Odette had never wanted to trade her motorcycle in for a flying-type pokemon. Noel, when he wasn't going on and on about how his braviary partner Elton didn't listen to him, always claimed flying was a truly exhilarating experience. But for Odette, nothing trumped a motorcycle. She was in full control, weaving in and out of traffic and between buildings at mach speed; she decided where to go and how fast she went. Flyers didn't know what they were missing.
Odette tightened her grip on the handlebars as a breeze stirred her bangs, cool against her uncovered head. She'd have to be extra careful tonight, with the roads still being soaked from the downpour. The last thing she needed was to have Acadia screaming, "I told you so!" at her hospital bedside. Or worse, over her grave.
The city storefronts flew by her in streaks of bright light, seemingly absorbed by the headlights of the other cars she was surrounded by. The brisk air nipped at her face, leaving her nose inflamed and beginning to run. She quickly reached up a hand and rubbed at it as she switched into the middle lane of the road. Her eyes darted between the two cars that bordered her bike, and she instinctively slowed down when she saw the right car begin to swerve into her lane without using a blinker. It then sped up as if trying to leave that little faux pas behind.
"Dumbass," Odette said to herself, returning to her normal speed. Her mind ran with observations as she maneuvered between cars.
Watch the van, they're lane hopping...that hatchback's driving under the speed limit, the driver looks like they're texting, steer clear…why is this stupid sedan on my ass? And there's the stoplight. Shit, it's turning. Not even going to try to run it with Noel on here.
She slowed to a stop at the front of the pack of automobiles waiting for their chance to charge across the four-way intersection. The downtime allowed her to rub her tingling nose again and untangle her bangs.
Noel seized the opportunity for a chat. He rested his chin lightly on her shoulder and loudly inhaled.
"Dee, what shampoo do you use again? The inside of your helmet smells so good."
She looked over her shoulder, resisting the urge to laugh at the sight of Noel in her helmet. She'd felt it'd be safer for him to wear it considering she was the experienced motorcyclist between them, but the thing barely fit his head. Something was better than nothing, though.
"Bulba and Bulba curl moisturizing shampoo," she answered. Her eyes returned to the traffic running perpendicular to them. "It doesn't have much of a smell, though. You're probably noticing the heat protectant spray."
"I still don't understand why you straighten your hair," he sighed. He grabbed one of her braids and began to tug on it playfully. "Your curls are amazing, and you would rock the luxray mane look."
Odette pressed her lips together. "Until you have thick curly hair to deal with every day, don't yell at me about what I do to mine," she said. "I like my braids, and my braids like me."
Noel kept up with his chatter, but Odette tuned him out as she watched the traffic. The hundreds of tires rolling over soaked asphalt blended with the sounds of rumbling engines around her, combining with the music from the storefronts on either side to create a full cacophony. Odette drew in a deep breath. Most people weren't fans of traffic noise, but she had always found the sheer volume calming.
The sound of an engine revving echoed violently from over the building off to her right, and it caused her to jolt. Even from far off, it rattled in her eardrums above all the other sounds.
Odette jerked her head in the direction of the disturbance. On the street, a few people had halted, looking around.
"Street racers? Who the hell is street racing in Lumiose at this time of night?" Noel exclaimed, pulling his hand away from Odette's hair. Before Odette could answer, that same revving noise exploded through the area again, louder than the first.
"Look!" Noel called, nudging her back. Three cars raced around the corner. They were sleek, shiny, and probably cost more than her entire apartment and everything in it. They were colourful, too-clearly, they wanted to be seen doing this illegal nonsense.
Rich people out for a joyride.
"Red light's gonna rain hard on their parade," Noel laughed. Odette's eyes flicked over to their light; sure enough, it had gone green. The cars around them started forward, but Odette didn't move her foot from the brake. Her gaze was fixed on the three cars. Their speed wasn't letting up in the slightest.
They're not going to stop, she realized.
The cars behind her began to honk, and she felt Noel jostle her again, lighter this time.
"Uh, Dee?"
It all happened in a blink. As the sports cars entered the intersection, the honking became frenzied. Cars screeched to a halt. The street racers tore past, sending up a spray of mist. They rounded the next corner, and they were gone as quickly as they'd appeared.
Odette blinked rapidly, trying to process what she'd just seen. The passersby erupted into conversation. Even though she couldn't make out the words, she could hear their disdain and disbelief.
Those fuckers could have killed somebody, she thought numbly. Around her, the honking had died down. The light was still green, but the traffic remained halted, all sharing in the same shock.
Odette felt an all-too-familiar tingling sensation start to form in the small of her back. Her lips curled back over her teeth. The corners of her vision began to go red.
"Those fucking lowlives," she spat. She violently revved her bike. "I'm gonna-"
"Hey!" Noel snapped. He smacked her lightly on the crown of her head. "Simmer down, Hothead!"
Odette whipped around in her seat, one fist raised. She couldn't hear anything above the rush of blood in her head.
"Do you want my goddamn fist down your throat?" she shouted.
Noel flinched back. His hands came up defensively in front of his face. "I want you to drive before the guys behind us shove their fists down both our throats!" he yelled back.
She stared. The red began to clear as the aggravated honks behind her began to pick back up again. She lowered her fist, turned around, and propelled the bike forward. Her heart was pounding as fast as her mind was moving.
"Gods," Noel breathed when they were well away from the intersection. "Leave it to you to go psycho over some stupid racers. Keep it together, Dee."
Warm-up breaths, she thought. One second in, one second out. That was a start. Now two seconds in, two seconds out. She wasn't feeling any different. The tingle in her back had yet to lessen, and her brain buzzed with threats and ferocious thoughts of payback. She wanted nothing more than to blacken the eyes of one of those drivers. Haul him out of his car, slam him against the wall and punch and kick until they were a bloody pulp, until—
The audacity, the sheer fucking audacity…
The breathing wasn't working. She felt like she wasn't getting enough air. All of her brainpower was going toward her rage. She had to concentrate on something else.
So, she began to recite the Purrloins! script instead, starting with the opening song.
"Are you blind when you're born, can you see in the dark, can you look at a king, would you sit on his throne…" she sang to herself. She focused on remembering how the orchestra sounded when they played along with the singers in rehearsal. The harmonies, the rests, the subtle grooves, the way they were never quite together on the sudden rests, no matter how much the conductor scolded them.
She kept on driving toward her building. The more she focused on picturing the stage as she sang the lyrics, the less she focused on the idea of hunting the drivers down and making them pay for their bullshit.
Another turn brought her onto Gigavolt Way. She slowed to a stop outside a low-rise apartment building. The familiar sight helped in cutting her anger for a moment. Arched doors stood behind wrought iron balcony fences and flower boxes brimmed with blooming daisies and pansies. Some of Odette's night owl neighbours were on their balconies with their Pokemon friends, enjoying the cool post-rain air. They waved as Odette drove by and turned onto the downward incline leading into the garage.
"Flat sweet flat," Noel hummed as Odette stopped at the security gate and entered her code. She easily maneuvered down the rows of parked cars through the parking lot until she found one of the spots labelled 310. She and her mother had certainly gotten lucky when they moved into the building because the first 310 spot was stationed right next to the elevator and staircase leading up to the lobby.
Once the bike rumbled to a stop, Odette swung off and stomped toward the elevator doors. She'd forgotten about Noel. His voice caught her just as she reached out to jab the elevator button.
"Hey! Temper Tantrum!"
"That's not my name," Odette snapped back, not turning.
"It might as well be," he said. "Quit stomping around and come back here."
Odette closed her eyes. She didn't have the patience to deal with Noel being Noel. Nonetheless, she pulled back her arm and turned to face him.
"What," she said. The word came out more menacingly than she had intended.
Noel had taken off the helmet. He held it in front of him like a shield. "Pick one. We're either gonna woosah, or we're gonna sing another happy song."
The tingle in her back flared again. The attempt at calming herself was wasted.
"Neither, I'm fine," she ground out.
"Pick one," Noel repeated as he stepped closer. He had a ridiculous grin on his face. The fuck was he so happy about? "I would suggest singing because the acoustics in here are great. Don't think I didn't hear you singing Jellicle Songs."
His grin didn't falter, despite the intensity of her glare. All she wanted to do now was get up to her apartment and stretch all the anger out of her system with her Pokemon team, provided nobody was up to anything foolish. But no, Noel had to be a good friend and make sure she calmed down before any of that happened. The babying lunatic.
She sucked in a deep breath.
"Jellicles do, and Jellicles can," she sang, her voice echoing through the brightly lit garage.
Somehow, Noel's smile widened even further. "Jellicle purrloins sing Jellicle chants," he belted.
As they continued through the verse, Noel dropped his things and began to do his own choreography for the song as if he were back on the stage. Although she tried to keep herself from doing so, she was soon smiling at the ridiculousness of it. But, the subdued performer part of her was aching to dance with him. She'd spent enough time on the stage's wings, watching the dancers run through their steps repeatedly, that she felt she knew the choreography as well as she knew the timings of the scene changes.
As Noel danced, she began to move along with him. Not with the same pep but with just enough gusto to show she had an idea of what she was doing. A couple of steps in, the tingle in her back faded almost entirely.
She stopped what she was doing, arching over and placing her hands on her knees.
All previous thoughts of violence, wrath, and everything in between vacated her mind, leaving her feeling winded. Her vision began to cloud with sleepiness, and her insides felt like they'd melted into jelly. The feeling was so intense that she forgot what she'd been so mad at just moments before. She was so focused on the malaise that gripped her that there was no room to be angry at anything. To even feel anything else but weariness and, of course, regret.
It suddenly pained her to be standing upright.
Gods, I hate this part, she thought through her fatigued haze.
Nonetheless, she made herself breathe through it. She began smacking her lips together, longing for a big sip of water. Something to treat the dry feeling on her tongue and the gross feeling at the back of her throat.
Hydration was always the answer. The results were usually instant.
She felt a hand begin to paw her head as the elevator dinged, signaling it had been called.
"Maybe if you diverted more energy into smiling, you wouldn't always get so winded every time you got pissed off," Noel teased from his new spot next to her. "You think your eyes are red because you're so angry all the time?"
Odette dazedly leaned over to open her backpack. She retrieved the water bottle she'd swiped from the backstage fridge just before leaving for the night and started chugging it in greedy gulps.
"Smiling causes premature wrinkles," she huffed when she finished. "And it's a mutation, ass."
Pushing herself up to stand upright, she blinked until the corners of her vision straightened themselves out. Her guts reformed, and as the water hit her stomach, it sent an instant surge of energy through her nerves. She suddenly felt as if she'd never been tired in the first place. No aches, no dizziness, no urge to fall over. All was right within her again. The regret was still prominent, but at least she could focus on it without the lingering feeling that she would dry heave and pass out.
"I dunno, red eyes and anger go pret-ty well together," Noel said, his voice inflecting upwards. "Real talk, though. Getting so mad that you're tired afterward shouldn't be the move."
She pursed her lips as she wrestled the half-empty bottle into her bag. "My anger issues know no bounds." She paused, then exhaled slowly through her nose. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."
The elevator dinged again, and the doors slid open. Noel sauntered in. Odette followed with considerably less spring in her step.
"No harm done. I know how you are, Little Miss Angry Eyes," he replied easily. "Still, they were just stupid rich kids racing their new toys. Why waste your energy on that?" he continued as they began to move up. "Based on my observations, they might die of a sacrilege overdose soon, so..."
"Because," Odette said strongly, "they could really hurt somebody. If I hadn't been paying attention, there's a chance they would have hit us. Then we'd be paralyzed or dead. And they don't give a shit. The inconsideration just…"
Her jaw clenched, and she pushed back her rising anger. There was no need for a round two of that.
"It just pisses me off," she finished flatly. Another pause. "And that's not funny."
Noel sucked his teeth again, then returned his free hand to her head and began to scratch affectionately. "Sorry, sorry, my bad," he apologized. "But gods, you have so much rage in that tiny body. You must hide it all in your hair."
The elevator soon stopped and opened into the complex's main floor. The interior wasn't nearly as fancy as the exterior, just a wide open space with an empty front desk, a sitting area of mismatched chairs and loveseats, and a wall of mailboxes.
"Let's see what BS junk we got today," Noel said as he popped open his own mailbox. Odette's was quite high up, so she had to stand on the tips of her toes to be able to get the key in the lock.
She was surprised at how much mail she pulled out once it was open. A couple of magazines, pamphlets, and some smaller envelopes.
Maman's, maman's, maman's...she thought as she flipped through the magazine covers. Finally, she came upon a pamphlet addressed to her. She flipped it over to read the cover, and her chest seized at the words that blared in her face.
Fleurrh University of the Arts
You're almost done!
Sign up for summer classes today!
She dropped the rest of her mail and tore the page in half. The sudden movement made Noel flinch. When she returned from dumping the thing in the trash, she found him watching her with knowing eyes.
His brows raised. "More shit from Fleurrh?" he asked.
Odette didn't immediately respond. She kneeled and began to pick up what she had dropped.
"What gave it away?" she muttered.
"I know that look on your face. But what gives, Dee? Why are they still bothering you?"
She shrugged. "I only had six credits left when I dropped out, I guess they want to keep reminding me of that."
Noel shook his head incredulously while nudging his locker closed. He set his own mail pile down and knelt to help Odette collect the rest of hers.
"Oh yeah, because you're totally going to step foot back on that campus. After everything they did to you." He considered his words for a second. "Or didn't do for you, more like."
Her vision was swimming, but not with red this time. Her chest began to tighten, the same as it had when she'd started thinking of him.
She hadn't gotten anything from her former university for a while. She'd thought for sure they'd removed her from the mailing list. Her, her mother, her grandparents, and their lawyer had told the school's higher-ups and her former professor's family where to shove it, and she figured that was that.
But life seemed determined to rub salt against her wounds. Odette began to massage her forehead.
He forced himself on you, and you killed him for it…
You killed him.
She didn't realize she'd started staring at the floor until Noel snapped at her. She jerked her head up, catching his concerned gaze.
"Hey, ma'am, up here," he said. "You're good."
"Sorry," she said, shuffling the rest of her mail pile together. "All good. I'm fine, just thinking."
She stood up and pushed her locker closed, shaking her head as a means to rid herself of those thoughts.
"Would a glass of Domaine De La Roserade-Conti help? My mum would happily let us break into the wine cooler," Noel said, flashing a grin.
Odette had to admit the offer sounded tempting. A solid buzz would put her straight to bed, no wrestling with her brain needed. However, she also had to consider the possible hangover to follow.
She shook her head again, sighing. "It would, but I have trainer school tomorrow. I don't want to be dealing with dry mouth and wrangling Loïc at the same time."
At the mention of the name Loïc, Noel's expression melted into one of slight fear. "Right, handling a rabid mimikyu while hungover doesn't sound like a smart thing to do."
Odette scoffed as they made it back to the elevator. "For the millionth time, he's not rabid."
"You say that, and yet, he acts pretty damn rabid," Noel said. "I've never met a Pokemon that's so set on causing problems on purpose."
"Then you've never set foot in a Pokemon research lab," Odette said. "Have you ever met a gengar that's had too many bottles of protein? It put Loïc's tantrums to shame."
Noel shook his head as he pushed the button on the wall. "Fine, fine. I guess the little guy did get you out of bed."
Odette's nose crinkled at the mention of it. That all seemed so far away now; the days after that thing where she couldn't move, couldn't shower, couldn't eat. All she did was sleep because she had no will to do much more. And even that was interrupted by nightmares that the case was going to trial and that there was a chance she might be arrested for it and-
But, of course. Leave it to her mother to bring home an injured mimikyu that needed all the TLC in the world and then some. She couldn't have stayed in bed with him running laps around the apartment and breaking shit, especially in the state he was in. There had been no room left in her mother's lab for him to board there, so at home he stayed, keeping Odette on her toes and actually driving her to get up and move.
That was months ago, and Loïc made it abundantly clear he had no intention of returning to the wild any time soon. Apparently, he enjoyed crawling around in the vents and the free pecha berries he got out of the partner lifestyle. And truthfully, as much of a pain in the ass as he tended to be, that made Odette quite happy. Pain in the ass or not, it was a pain she welcomed because she wasn't wallowing in her depression in bed. Now she could at least do it while being a partially functional member of society.
Shuddering at the thought, she sighed. Fond feelings aside, Loïc still acted like a wilding. Surely leaving him home to pack with her team wouldn't bode well.
"Can't wait to see what nonsense is in store for me."
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep.
Nonsense had indeed struck the Cinq-Mars apartment.
Standing in the doorway, the sound that hit Odette immediately was the ring of the smoke alarm. White smoke rose in three separate columns behind the bar top bordering the kitchen. The dinner table was in complete disarray, with all four chairs completely toppled over and the tablecloth dangling off the edge in a bunched-up heap. A board game and its many colourful pieces were scattered over the wood floors. The only one of her Pokemon partners in sight was her froslass friend, who was face down on the living room sofa.
"I swear to gods..." Odette said as she began to fan the smoke away from her face with her mail stack. "Isaur?" she said loudly. "What the hell?"
"Don't ask; don't talk to me," Isaur said, her voice muffled by the cushion. She sounded exasperated, and that seemed to be the only answer she was going to give.
Odette kicked the door shut behind her, then threw her helmet and mail down onto the coffee table. Her eyes began to water as she stomped across the small family room to the dining area, passing the tipped chairs to get to her balcony doors. She threw them open and fanned the rising smoke outside. She tried to hold her breath for as long as possible to avoid breathing the smoke in but found the task to be a little too difficult. She took to staggering her breathing instead.
"What happened to packing?" she yelled through short huffs.
She moved into the kitchen and quickly found the source of the fumes. Her chandelure friend, Ange, was sitting on the floor, bright red in the face from pouting. His signature embers had flared up and were releasing smoke as a result.
"Ange!" she snapped. "What's the problem? You're going to smoke out the whole building!"
"He cheated!" he said angrily. "He cheated, and I'm mad about it!"
Odette began to cough, feeling that tickle returning to her back again, along with a new tightness in her lungs. She grabbed a plastic cup full of water from the sink and dumped it on Ange's fires. They fizzled out, and he slumped over, clearly winded from whatever energy he'd been exerting.
"You're ridiculous," she said in a huff, throwing the cup aside. She went back out to the living room and returned to fanning the exhaust. There, her gothitelle friend, Solene, came running out from the hallway leading to her bedroom, breathless.
"I'm...sorry," Solene said, panting. "I'm trying...to find-"
"Help me," Odette cut her off. "Psychic, please."
Solene drew in some air and put her hands together. An orb of pink light formed between them, and suddenly, the smoke still left in the room began to ball together. The ball hovered out the open balcony doors and said doors slammed shut behind it. The beeping stopped, and Odette sighed in relief. She began to rub her back as if trying to coax the tingling sensation out of it.
"Guys, I wanted to come home to a calm place tonight," she said, irritated. "Of all the days to be up to some shit, today wasn't it."
"Things were perfectly fine up until about ten minutes ago!" Solene said insistently.
Odette paused in her rubbing, a thought suddenly occurring to her. She looked around the room almost frantically. Isaur was on the couch, Ange was collecting himself in the kitchen, Solene was in front of her, and Enora was still in her ball.
"Where's the imp?" she asked.
Solene pointed up at the ceiling, evidently annoyed. Odette looked up just in time for the sound of skittering feet to echo from down from it. Her gaze cut to the vent above her, and it popped open almost immediately. That familiar fake pikachu head hung down from the darkness of the air duct.
"Kkkkkkkyu," Loïc hissed ominously.
Odette narrowed her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the vents? What could you possibly need up there?"
"Kkkkkkkkkkkkyu," he responded. His body weight shifted slightly, and several other board game pieces and cards fell from the duct. Odette silently watched them all hit the floor before speaking again.
"Why are you being a dickhead?"
"Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk." It was amazing how even after living as a partner Pokemon for so many months, he still elected to speak in hisses.
"Why are you being a dickhead?" she asked again, her anger rising. Loïc was silent after that.
Odette pinched the bridge of her nose and took another deep, long breath. "I'm going to count to three," she said evenly. "If you're not out of the vent by three, I'm throwing every single chocolate-covered pecha berry we have in the garbage. Do you-"
She didn't need to finish her sentence. Upon looking back up, she saw the rambunctious ghost-type slowly floating down to the floor. He landed at her feet.
"Am good," he said sweetly. Speaking in a way she could fully understand that time. For good measure, he began to rub himself up against her leg.
"You're so easy," Odette sighed. She picked up the haphazardly thrown board game and unfolded it, seeing the familiar print of a Monopoly track. She frowned at it.
"Who was playing Monopoly?" she asked, peering up at Solene.
"Those two!" Solene snapped. She pointed down at the now-politely sitting mimikyu, and toward the kitchen.
"Kkkyu," Loïc replied.
"Tattletale…" Ange called in a wary tone.
Odette nodded slowly. "I could have told you that the two of you playing Monopoly would be a horrible idea. What were you even thinking?"
There wasn't a verbal response from Loïc this time. Instead, he scurried between Odette's feet and dove under the living room coffee table. That was all the answer she needed.
"Boys, when I said 'start some packing,' I meant 'start some packing without getting sidetracked by random shit,'" she sighed. She sat the board on the table, along with her backpack.
"I'm not sure how you expected this to go any other way," Solene spoke. "The two of them together results in the opposite of efficiency."
Odette eyed the gothitelle dubiously. "Fair, but what'd you do today?"
Solene wildly gestured back toward the kitchen, where there was a stack of four small boxes against the back wall, plain as day. Odette had been in such a hurry to do some damage control, she hadn't noticed them.
"All the glassware?" she asked.
Solene nodded firmly, then gestured to Isaur, who had yet to move from the couch. "Of course! How could you underestimate our efficiency? I'm the fastest packer in the group!"
At least the girls-sans Enora-had gotten something done.
"Can I humbly request I not be left with them tomorrow? I'm over it," Isaur grumbled, rolling over onto her back. At that moment, Loïc stuck his head out from under the coffee table and attempted to jump up on the couch with her. She immediately sat up and swatted at him.
"You better get the hell away from me, I'm not in the mood!" she yelled.
"Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk," Loïc growled.
Odette pulled Enora's pokeball from the front pocket and pressed the front button. With a bright flash of blue, Enora herself appeared on the table. She stretched herself out, yawning as if just waking up from a nap.
"Loïc and Ange, clean up your mess. Solene, make sure Loïc and Ange clean up. Enora, make sure Isaur doesn't kill Loïc. I'm going to take a shower," Odette instructed flatly, grabbing her bag and making her way toward her bedroom. She'd typically be able to attempt to diffuse the situation, but her brain was fried at this point. She needed a breather before she got upset again.
Her bedroom was a bit messier than she normally tolerated. The contents of her closet spilled all over the floor, reaching as far as her desk chair and bed. Most of the drawers on her dresser stood open, also threatening to also dump their stuff. The only thing that looked relatively well-kept was her astral shrine, which had been arranged neatly on a small table in front of her window. It was still fit with the ganlon and liechi berries and various items she'd put out as offerings, her standard configuration for the sake of her team's battle prowess. She had half a mind to light the odd incense sitting in the middle of the crudely drawn magic circle, just as a means of calming her nerves, but decided against it. She settled for dusting off one of the candles, wondering when she should start breaking it down for the move.
With the preparations to move underway, she had a lot of organizing she needed to do. What could be packed away for now, and what she needed to keep out. A pile of flattened boxes was leaned up against her wire bed frame, ready for use. Only one box in the room had been packed and taped, but she'd had that box together for over a year-long before this move to Alola was even finalized.
Her eyes instinctively traveled to her wall of empty shelves, catching on the amount of dust that had started to accumulate on them. Despite the fact that she'd shoved every last of her trophies and photos from her performance days into that box, she still found herself glancing at the shelves every time she entered her room. They used to fill her with joy and a sense of accomplishment and worth. But now, they just existed, hoping to hold something else that filled her with those same feelings.
That possibility seemed bleak.
She threw herself onto her unmade bed after tossing her bag to the floor. Lying there, she allowed herself to really take a second to decompress. Forget the day, forget work, forget her team's shenanigans. She just concentrated on relaxing.
She hoped, in some way, shape or form, tomorrow would steer clear of the weird brushes with the past. Just a day at Santalune Pokemon Academy, focused on nothing but training. That was all she was asking for.
A small crash sounded from the family room, followed by a chorus of angry shouts from her teammates. She cringed to herself and took the deepest breath she could muster.
"All good. All good."