Mouse Tourmaline
Lost Cause Defender
One-shot. Possibly PG-rated? Reviews welcome.
---------------
My trainer lies there, sleeping.
Some Pokémon have had so many trainers in their long lives that they feel the need to call them by their human names, or something as close as their own voices can manage. For myself, I have no need for such things. She is my trainer, and that is all.
I sit here, quiet and still, as she lies sleeping. Everything is silent save for the sound of the falling rain.
*
I have always been able to sum up, in a couple of words, what it means to me to be a Pokémon, one with a trainer and a ball of my own. At first, those words were the simplest I knew: veee, veee. The meaning: Love you, I love you. The words that a Pokémon should always speak to its trainer, whatever the language, whatever the situation. Love. You.
They are the words I spoke to my trainer when I first saw her. No matter that she was taking me away from the Breeding Centre where I had spent my childhood days; no matter that she hardly seemed to look into my eyes as she laid a few strange circles of golden metal on my breeder’s desk. I would have plenty time to gaze into hers: two dark eyes of utmost beauty, sparkling with golden light from within, framed by her soft, fair hair. If it’s true what they say, that every creature has a Mewgiven destiny, then I knew that mine was to be with her. My trainer. Veee, veee, I crooned softly, taking my last look at my home before she drew out the red-and-white sphere that was to be mine.
I remember those days, now, as she lies sleeping in front of me.
I love my trainer for making me what I am. The battles we have fought together are the evidence of my power, my newfound strength. I have beaten seemingly insurmountable type disadvantages, taking down Pikachus, Chikoritas, opponents fierce and cunning the world over. Naturally, the training was hard. How could it be otherwise? I forget the number of times that my trainer lost her temper, screaming, hitting out. It was a long and frustrating journey. Sometimes I was too weak from training even to fight, my paws collapsing from under me. But pain heals, struggle is forgotten, and I always knew that one day, I would be good enough to win any battle. And then she’d smile.
Her smile is so beautiful. I wish I could see it now, as she lies sleeping.
*
The day she brought the jewel to me, glittering night-blue in her hands like a dream of distant rivers, was the day I grew up. As soon as I let her touch it to my fur, I knew something had changed. I was no longer the little child who had lived at the Breeding Centre, nor would I be a fragile creature afraid to fight. I was an adult, elegant and powerful, and I would exist only to be hers.
I opened my mouth, ready to speak the comforting words of love, but my new voice stumbled over the once simple phrase. Sitting with my paws folded, I considered. Then I had it, and I spoke.
“Vvrr vr-ii.”
I am yours.
The refrain of my life.
*
Of course, I am not the only Pokémon she has ever had. There was a Bulbasaur, a Geodude, a Pidgeotto, a Gyarados. I remember them, wherever they are now. They’ve been gone a long time now, swapped for others or for a handful of those metal discs. Some for reasons I don’t know. Others, she said weren’t good enough. I doubt I will ever see them again. May they be happy if they are still living, and may Mew and Celebi be their eternal guardians if they have since left this life.
I remember the Ninetales, though.
“Do you never dream of freedom?” she asked softly, her elegant tail flicking against my side.
I shook my head violently. “Why would I? I have my trainer, I am growing stronger. What more could I ask for?”
“This isn’t how life should be, my dear,” she replied, grooming herself with one paw. “If you had seen the world, you’d understand that…” She lifted her tail-tip delicately, exposing her training scars. I supposed she was not used to the rigours of daily battle-practice, or to a trainer who strove for the best. “You may love your trainer, but she doesn’t love you back, dear. As soon as you lose, you’ll follow the road of all those other Pokémon.”
I couldn’t afford to let her words twist my thoughts. “Here. Have something to eat.” I offered her a little of the food my trainer had rewarded me with after I’d won that day’s battle. She turned up her nose and blew an experimental blast of smoke into the autumn air. I watched her stupidly, not knowing what she was about to do.
“Enough. I would rather die than spend another day with this so-called trainer,” she snarled. And she leapt.
My trainer screamed.
I don’t remember the next few moments. All I know is that I was standing in front of my trainer, her graceful body now soaked in precious, cool water. I had put out the flames that the Ninetales had lit, before turning my attack on the Pokémon herself. Now she lay fainted on the scorched grass, exhausted.
My trainer was shivering, staring wide-eyed at the fallen Ninetales. I ran to her, my eyes brimming with tears for the actions of my companion. “Vi-i,” I managed hoarsely, the closest I could get to my childhood declarations of love. She barely seemed to notice, huddling her coat around her body. Picking up my Pokéball, ready to return at her word, I whispered my refrain, vvrr, vr-ii. I am yours. I am forever yours.
The Ninetales is gone, now, of course. An excited trainer with a pocket full of metal discs took her, the very next day, and I hope they are happy together. There is no-one left but me, to watch my trainer as she sleeps.
*
I remember the day we came to the Indigo Plateau, the two of us, her and me. I had listened to her, and now I knew what she wanted. She wanted to win, to beat all the contenders. And so, that was what I wanted, too.
Each battle was more tiring than the last. I had never faced such a challenge, never met opponents of such strength. I fought on, defeating them one after another, watching her beautiful smile glitter in the sunlight.
Until the human boy came with his Gyarados.
Other water-type creatures have always been my one weakness. I tried my hardest, knowing even as I did so that it was not enough. As the water-dragon’s stormy blast took away the last of my strength, I looked up into my trainer’s eyes. They blazed with anger and disappointment as she clutched my Pokéball, her knuckles white. She was angry with me. I had failed her.
I had time to speak a single phrase.
Vvrr, vr-ii.
However I have let you down, I am still yours.
Then the darkness took me.
*
Ninetales had been wrong about my trainer. For when I woke, she was there, sitting in the Pokémon centre on the Plateau with my Pokéball cradled in her slender hands.
Oh, I knew she didn’t love me. I had grown enough to know she didn't love me. Not like some of the trainers I’d seen, not like the boy with his arms around the injured Krabby, not like the girl with her Pikachu dressed in pretty pearls and scarves.
But she would love me. I would make it happen. If it was battling that she cared about, then I would be the best. And she would smile. For I was hers, and whatever happened, I had to do my best to make her smile.
Ironic now, I think to myself, as my trainer lies sleeping…
*
We trained. We trained until my whole body ached. We trained until she was ready to scream at the frustration of it all. I practically fell into my Pokéball at the end of each day, exhausted. Still, I couldn’t be sure that I could defeat a strong Water Pokémon.
Then one day, she called me out of my Pokéball with no battlefield or training targets in sight. I looked at her in puzzlement, but she was gazing at a picture in a book. “We’re going Pokémon hunting,” she said with an odd smile, holding the picture in front of my eyes. “Remember this picture.”
It was a bird, fierce and bright as the image seemed to leap from the page. No Pidgey, nor Fearow, nor Farfetch’d was this. The wings were jagged, as though they’d been torn by a million sharp spikes. Its beak stood open in a perpetual screeching cry. There were words on the page in human-writing, but I had never learnt to understand those signs and symbols.
“Are you serious?” As a human boy ran over to my trainer’s side, I realised we were in a crowded Pokémon Centre. “You’re going after a legendary?”
“Why not?” she smiled. “They say it can call down lightning from the sky. Once I have this addition to my team, no trainer in the world will be able to stop me. I won’t have a single battle weakness.”
Once she catches this Pokémon, she will never lose. She will never be unhappy. She…
She will love me!
Vvrr, vr-ii! I ran round my trainer’s feet in circles, trying to show her without words my excitement, my optimism. “Get back in your ball, you ditzy thing,” she sighed, but I could tell that she, too, was excited.
The next place I saw was a building we had never before entered. It was a dark place of corridors and flickering light bulbs, and I thought I heard the soft lapping of water somewhere outside. I recall every detail now, as she lies sleeping.
My trainer walked with her shoes off, silently stepping over machinery and broken tiles. I followed her, trying my best to keep quiet. Rusty water dripped from the roof, cool but corrupted.
All at once, a Geodude jumped out in front of us. I shot an attack at it, knocking it out instantly but soaking my trainer from head to toe. She sighed, shaking the droplets from her hair. “Clumsy. C’mon.”
We walked together, and I wondered why I felt so… so alone. Over my shoulder, I stole a glance at her.
You don’t love me.
You will never love me. I was sure now, and the words were like a sentence. And yet…
I am yours.
Then she hesitated, her footsteps slowing, and lifted me off the ground, hiding behind a doorway as she peeked round the corner. “There,” she whispered.
I stifled a gasp of wonder as I saw the bird, enormous and majestic, with its wings folded in sleep. It was taller than my trainer, its nest a coiled tangle of electrical wires, its feathers pointed as swords. And we were going to capture it, my beloved trainer and I. I knew I had the type disadvantage—the water that enveloped my small body would make a good conductor for the electricity—but a few attacks in the right place and this bird would be ours. I could avoid being attacked for a few turns, and that would be enough.
You want this prize, and you shall have it.
For I am yours.
My trainer gestured, and I leapt down in front of the bird’s colossal figure, tensing myself for the first attack. Taking aim, I jammed a pointed spike into the creature’s wingtip.
Its bright-glowing eyes opened as it felt the pain, and it rose up, angry and afraid, screeching a cry that rocked the building to its rafters. As it looked down on me, my breath caught in my throat. For I had realised my mistake, my trainer’s mistake.
This was no tamed Pokémon, taught to obey turns and regulations of battle and to trade named attacks with me until one of us collapsed into the relief of unconsciousness. This was a wild creature, knowing nothing of capture or understanding, fighting for its survival against an unknown enemy.
And the glow that surrounded its wings, preparing to strike, was no feeble, human-taught attack move.
They say it can call down lightning from the sky…
There was nowhere to run, no chance to hide from a bolt of jagged light calculated to destroy me.
I closed my eyes and filled my mind with sweeter memories, with the light in my trainer’s eyes, her laughter, the way I had loved her…
Waiting…
*
It is rare for a Vaporeon to cry, especially one already thirsty for life-giving water. Still, tears as pure as the crystal rain slip from my tired eyes, scattering on the broken tiles where my trainer lies sleeping.
I must not cry. She would be furious, if she were to wake.
The sound of water dripping from a broken pipe brings me out of my trance, and I run to lap the liquid from the ground. Rusty and metallic, but still water, the water that I need. I drink and praise the heavens for its coolness.
Strengthened and refreshed, I gaze at the broken ceiling where the night stars show through. I do not look at my trainer, at her once-fair hair as dark as the night, at her closed eyes. I look out into the darkness, into the strange newness of my destiny.
“Oh, my…”
Her eyes wide with panic…
The way she grabbed me and ran…
My Pokéball. Where is it? I see it now, lying a short distance away. It has shattered into a thousand pieces. Picking one of them up, I can feel its sharp edges, like broken glass.
I do not look at my trainer, at her darkened dress that had shone so delicately in the bright lights of the Pokémon centre, or the old guidebook that she still holds in her hand. My own eyes closed against the world, I begin to climb the broken brickwork.
“Jewel, c’mon… we’ll make it out of here… don’t look…”
I have a name? My name is… Jewel?
Then the sound of screeching that echoed behind us, and the force of landing as she threw me to the ground in front of her. “Jewel, run!”
I am on the roof. A metal pipe trails down to a clouded river, flowing beside the old power station. Above me, the stars are glittering like my trainer’s bright smile.
Once more, once for ever, I turn and look down through the shattered roof, down to the floor of the station, where a motionless figure is lying. Vrrr, I whisper softly, vr-ii.
I am yours.
Who would have guessed that you were mine, all along?
And I walk away from the place where my trainer lies sleeping.
Mew, guard her forever in the only place she’ll wake.
---------------
My trainer lies there, sleeping.
Some Pokémon have had so many trainers in their long lives that they feel the need to call them by their human names, or something as close as their own voices can manage. For myself, I have no need for such things. She is my trainer, and that is all.
I sit here, quiet and still, as she lies sleeping. Everything is silent save for the sound of the falling rain.
*
I have always been able to sum up, in a couple of words, what it means to me to be a Pokémon, one with a trainer and a ball of my own. At first, those words were the simplest I knew: veee, veee. The meaning: Love you, I love you. The words that a Pokémon should always speak to its trainer, whatever the language, whatever the situation. Love. You.
They are the words I spoke to my trainer when I first saw her. No matter that she was taking me away from the Breeding Centre where I had spent my childhood days; no matter that she hardly seemed to look into my eyes as she laid a few strange circles of golden metal on my breeder’s desk. I would have plenty time to gaze into hers: two dark eyes of utmost beauty, sparkling with golden light from within, framed by her soft, fair hair. If it’s true what they say, that every creature has a Mewgiven destiny, then I knew that mine was to be with her. My trainer. Veee, veee, I crooned softly, taking my last look at my home before she drew out the red-and-white sphere that was to be mine.
I remember those days, now, as she lies sleeping in front of me.
I love my trainer for making me what I am. The battles we have fought together are the evidence of my power, my newfound strength. I have beaten seemingly insurmountable type disadvantages, taking down Pikachus, Chikoritas, opponents fierce and cunning the world over. Naturally, the training was hard. How could it be otherwise? I forget the number of times that my trainer lost her temper, screaming, hitting out. It was a long and frustrating journey. Sometimes I was too weak from training even to fight, my paws collapsing from under me. But pain heals, struggle is forgotten, and I always knew that one day, I would be good enough to win any battle. And then she’d smile.
Her smile is so beautiful. I wish I could see it now, as she lies sleeping.
*
The day she brought the jewel to me, glittering night-blue in her hands like a dream of distant rivers, was the day I grew up. As soon as I let her touch it to my fur, I knew something had changed. I was no longer the little child who had lived at the Breeding Centre, nor would I be a fragile creature afraid to fight. I was an adult, elegant and powerful, and I would exist only to be hers.
I opened my mouth, ready to speak the comforting words of love, but my new voice stumbled over the once simple phrase. Sitting with my paws folded, I considered. Then I had it, and I spoke.
“Vvrr vr-ii.”
I am yours.
The refrain of my life.
*
Of course, I am not the only Pokémon she has ever had. There was a Bulbasaur, a Geodude, a Pidgeotto, a Gyarados. I remember them, wherever they are now. They’ve been gone a long time now, swapped for others or for a handful of those metal discs. Some for reasons I don’t know. Others, she said weren’t good enough. I doubt I will ever see them again. May they be happy if they are still living, and may Mew and Celebi be their eternal guardians if they have since left this life.
I remember the Ninetales, though.
“Do you never dream of freedom?” she asked softly, her elegant tail flicking against my side.
I shook my head violently. “Why would I? I have my trainer, I am growing stronger. What more could I ask for?”
“This isn’t how life should be, my dear,” she replied, grooming herself with one paw. “If you had seen the world, you’d understand that…” She lifted her tail-tip delicately, exposing her training scars. I supposed she was not used to the rigours of daily battle-practice, or to a trainer who strove for the best. “You may love your trainer, but she doesn’t love you back, dear. As soon as you lose, you’ll follow the road of all those other Pokémon.”
I couldn’t afford to let her words twist my thoughts. “Here. Have something to eat.” I offered her a little of the food my trainer had rewarded me with after I’d won that day’s battle. She turned up her nose and blew an experimental blast of smoke into the autumn air. I watched her stupidly, not knowing what she was about to do.
“Enough. I would rather die than spend another day with this so-called trainer,” she snarled. And she leapt.
My trainer screamed.
I don’t remember the next few moments. All I know is that I was standing in front of my trainer, her graceful body now soaked in precious, cool water. I had put out the flames that the Ninetales had lit, before turning my attack on the Pokémon herself. Now she lay fainted on the scorched grass, exhausted.
My trainer was shivering, staring wide-eyed at the fallen Ninetales. I ran to her, my eyes brimming with tears for the actions of my companion. “Vi-i,” I managed hoarsely, the closest I could get to my childhood declarations of love. She barely seemed to notice, huddling her coat around her body. Picking up my Pokéball, ready to return at her word, I whispered my refrain, vvrr, vr-ii. I am yours. I am forever yours.
The Ninetales is gone, now, of course. An excited trainer with a pocket full of metal discs took her, the very next day, and I hope they are happy together. There is no-one left but me, to watch my trainer as she sleeps.
*
I remember the day we came to the Indigo Plateau, the two of us, her and me. I had listened to her, and now I knew what she wanted. She wanted to win, to beat all the contenders. And so, that was what I wanted, too.
Each battle was more tiring than the last. I had never faced such a challenge, never met opponents of such strength. I fought on, defeating them one after another, watching her beautiful smile glitter in the sunlight.
Until the human boy came with his Gyarados.
Other water-type creatures have always been my one weakness. I tried my hardest, knowing even as I did so that it was not enough. As the water-dragon’s stormy blast took away the last of my strength, I looked up into my trainer’s eyes. They blazed with anger and disappointment as she clutched my Pokéball, her knuckles white. She was angry with me. I had failed her.
I had time to speak a single phrase.
Vvrr, vr-ii.
However I have let you down, I am still yours.
Then the darkness took me.
*
Ninetales had been wrong about my trainer. For when I woke, she was there, sitting in the Pokémon centre on the Plateau with my Pokéball cradled in her slender hands.
Oh, I knew she didn’t love me. I had grown enough to know she didn't love me. Not like some of the trainers I’d seen, not like the boy with his arms around the injured Krabby, not like the girl with her Pikachu dressed in pretty pearls and scarves.
But she would love me. I would make it happen. If it was battling that she cared about, then I would be the best. And she would smile. For I was hers, and whatever happened, I had to do my best to make her smile.
Ironic now, I think to myself, as my trainer lies sleeping…
*
We trained. We trained until my whole body ached. We trained until she was ready to scream at the frustration of it all. I practically fell into my Pokéball at the end of each day, exhausted. Still, I couldn’t be sure that I could defeat a strong Water Pokémon.
Then one day, she called me out of my Pokéball with no battlefield or training targets in sight. I looked at her in puzzlement, but she was gazing at a picture in a book. “We’re going Pokémon hunting,” she said with an odd smile, holding the picture in front of my eyes. “Remember this picture.”
It was a bird, fierce and bright as the image seemed to leap from the page. No Pidgey, nor Fearow, nor Farfetch’d was this. The wings were jagged, as though they’d been torn by a million sharp spikes. Its beak stood open in a perpetual screeching cry. There were words on the page in human-writing, but I had never learnt to understand those signs and symbols.
“Are you serious?” As a human boy ran over to my trainer’s side, I realised we were in a crowded Pokémon Centre. “You’re going after a legendary?”
“Why not?” she smiled. “They say it can call down lightning from the sky. Once I have this addition to my team, no trainer in the world will be able to stop me. I won’t have a single battle weakness.”
Once she catches this Pokémon, she will never lose. She will never be unhappy. She…
She will love me!
Vvrr, vr-ii! I ran round my trainer’s feet in circles, trying to show her without words my excitement, my optimism. “Get back in your ball, you ditzy thing,” she sighed, but I could tell that she, too, was excited.
The next place I saw was a building we had never before entered. It was a dark place of corridors and flickering light bulbs, and I thought I heard the soft lapping of water somewhere outside. I recall every detail now, as she lies sleeping.
My trainer walked with her shoes off, silently stepping over machinery and broken tiles. I followed her, trying my best to keep quiet. Rusty water dripped from the roof, cool but corrupted.
All at once, a Geodude jumped out in front of us. I shot an attack at it, knocking it out instantly but soaking my trainer from head to toe. She sighed, shaking the droplets from her hair. “Clumsy. C’mon.”
We walked together, and I wondered why I felt so… so alone. Over my shoulder, I stole a glance at her.
You don’t love me.
You will never love me. I was sure now, and the words were like a sentence. And yet…
I am yours.
Then she hesitated, her footsteps slowing, and lifted me off the ground, hiding behind a doorway as she peeked round the corner. “There,” she whispered.
I stifled a gasp of wonder as I saw the bird, enormous and majestic, with its wings folded in sleep. It was taller than my trainer, its nest a coiled tangle of electrical wires, its feathers pointed as swords. And we were going to capture it, my beloved trainer and I. I knew I had the type disadvantage—the water that enveloped my small body would make a good conductor for the electricity—but a few attacks in the right place and this bird would be ours. I could avoid being attacked for a few turns, and that would be enough.
You want this prize, and you shall have it.
For I am yours.
My trainer gestured, and I leapt down in front of the bird’s colossal figure, tensing myself for the first attack. Taking aim, I jammed a pointed spike into the creature’s wingtip.
Its bright-glowing eyes opened as it felt the pain, and it rose up, angry and afraid, screeching a cry that rocked the building to its rafters. As it looked down on me, my breath caught in my throat. For I had realised my mistake, my trainer’s mistake.
This was no tamed Pokémon, taught to obey turns and regulations of battle and to trade named attacks with me until one of us collapsed into the relief of unconsciousness. This was a wild creature, knowing nothing of capture or understanding, fighting for its survival against an unknown enemy.
And the glow that surrounded its wings, preparing to strike, was no feeble, human-taught attack move.
They say it can call down lightning from the sky…
There was nowhere to run, no chance to hide from a bolt of jagged light calculated to destroy me.
I closed my eyes and filled my mind with sweeter memories, with the light in my trainer’s eyes, her laughter, the way I had loved her…
Waiting…
*
It is rare for a Vaporeon to cry, especially one already thirsty for life-giving water. Still, tears as pure as the crystal rain slip from my tired eyes, scattering on the broken tiles where my trainer lies sleeping.
I must not cry. She would be furious, if she were to wake.
The sound of water dripping from a broken pipe brings me out of my trance, and I run to lap the liquid from the ground. Rusty and metallic, but still water, the water that I need. I drink and praise the heavens for its coolness.
Strengthened and refreshed, I gaze at the broken ceiling where the night stars show through. I do not look at my trainer, at her once-fair hair as dark as the night, at her closed eyes. I look out into the darkness, into the strange newness of my destiny.
“Oh, my…”
Her eyes wide with panic…
The way she grabbed me and ran…
My Pokéball. Where is it? I see it now, lying a short distance away. It has shattered into a thousand pieces. Picking one of them up, I can feel its sharp edges, like broken glass.
I do not look at my trainer, at her darkened dress that had shone so delicately in the bright lights of the Pokémon centre, or the old guidebook that she still holds in her hand. My own eyes closed against the world, I begin to climb the broken brickwork.
“Jewel, c’mon… we’ll make it out of here… don’t look…”
I have a name? My name is… Jewel?
Then the sound of screeching that echoed behind us, and the force of landing as she threw me to the ground in front of her. “Jewel, run!”
I am on the roof. A metal pipe trails down to a clouded river, flowing beside the old power station. Above me, the stars are glittering like my trainer’s bright smile.
Once more, once for ever, I turn and look down through the shattered roof, down to the floor of the station, where a motionless figure is lying. Vrrr, I whisper softly, vr-ii.
I am yours.
Who would have guessed that you were mine, all along?
And I walk away from the place where my trainer lies sleeping.
Mew, guard her forever in the only place she’ll wake.
