I've been writing this alongside TotH and decided to just post it. Toth will still be updated, I've already finished the next chapter. Couldn't really wait to start this one, though.
PREVIEW
The sky was a late-afternoon gold.
"It's not funny, stop laughing."
"I'm not laughing."
"Well stop smiling, then. This match was very important to me. It's the second time I've failed to earn this badge. After two months of extra training, I don't really see how I could've missed the mark so completely. What am I missing?"
"Ah, I don't know. I wouldn't worry about it, though."
"Well thanks, I feel better," I said in a mildly sarcastic tone. There was no point in biting or blatant sarcasm with him. He'd just look at me with a confused or amused contortion of his otherwise careless face and then I'd feel like I'd wasted the energy.
"You should feel better. Let's just have a good time tonight and not worry about it. You'll train smarter and harder for the next match and you'll do a good job."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"I believe you can do it." With this, Will put his arm around my shoulder and we both headed to the apartment I rented in Mauville.
Short-term leases weren't hard to come by in gym towns: there was a large flow of travelers in and out of the city during any given season, most of them trainers there for a short stint then gone. We had rented a minimally furnished two bedroom apartment near the center of the town; close to the gym and close to the club. Originally, we had planned to rent this room for two months: One month for intensive training, half a month for battling local trainers for money and items, and then half a month for the gym battle and the post-victory celebration/relaxation period. This was the fifth month that Will and I had lived in our apartment on Illumise Drive. I didn't have many things, but even then, much of what I had was still unpacked. After five months, I had been getting dressed out of a suitcase and pulling my toothbrush out of a plastic bag.
I dropped my keys on the table by our door and sat down on our make-shift couch. It squalled and then settled. Will went straight back to the room.
"Where are we going tonight?"
"Probably Club Volume. There should be a new group of trainers passing through, most likely with a high volume of sultry young ladies looking for a good time." Will was in the other room, looking for something to wear. I could hear the drawers sliding back and forth along their tracks. I was sitting on a small crate in our living room, still sulking a bit, not totally sold on the idea of going out.
"I don't know if I'm going. I feel like just going to sleep, really."
"That's fine, I guess. If that's how you want to spend your moment. I'm leaving in about an hour, so you've got time to change your mind and those clothes and shoes. They smell like defeat. Or your feet. Hey, you know even later, you can catch up with me. You know where it is."
"Right," I said, pointing my head in the direction of the bedroom. I lifted myself off of the crate and took a look through our living room window.
It was the orange color of sunset outside.
"All right. I'm gonna take a walk. I'll see you later...or tomorrow morning."
"Haha, yeah, depending on if it's a good or bad night, right!?"
I stepped out of the apartment and headed down the hall towards the exit. Walking through the front lawn, out to the sidewalk, I got hit by a comforting breeze.
"I know who'd love this." I reached for the pokeball on my right side. "Amigo, come out."
Ever since he was a pooch..yena, Amigo has been a big fan of a good breeze. Before I figured this out, he used to run as fast as he could through my other apartments, usually causing damage that I had to pay for. He got out of his pokeball if he wasn't being supervised and then proceeded to run amuck.
"We're not going to be able to return your deposit. This dog has caused at least that amount in damage to the walls."
The second time it happened, I invested in a more expensive pokeball, a Great one, one that I didn't think he could escape from. This worked fine until he evolved...
Will and I were headed back from lunch at the bread shop in Dewford about a year ago. We both had left our pokebelts at home to avoid any annoying random challenges. Some trainers were so wired, though, it didn't seem to matter.
"You sir! I challenge you to a two-on-two battle! Release your pokemon!" Yelled a kid in short shorts holding a net over his shoulder.
"I think you need a new prescription. With glasses as large as those, I'm surprised you didn't see that our belts are absolutely devoid of pokeballs. So, sorry." I said this and then took a bite out of the cresaunt in my left hand.
"The pedestrian trail is that-a-way, then, busters! This path is only for trainers! Why are you walking through here!?"
"It's shorter," Will answered as we continued to walk.
We walked past the infuriated young trainer and through the woods towards our apartment.
"What do you think about those bug trainers?" In my head, I was prepared to call them lame or respectable.
"Whatever, you know. It's what they feel strongly about, they should train bugs. That kid, though; not as a bug trainer, but as a trainer is way too high strung!"
"Ha, I know!" I pushed imaginary glasses up the bridge of my nose and talked in a nasal voice. "What are you doing here?! You know this road is for trainers only! Nerrrr, RULES!". We both had a laugh.
Will was never quick to criticize, so I rarely made fun of anyone even though I often felt like it.
"That Dewford bread was so good. We have to go back there and stock up before we leave, man. Maybe get a little extra for the pokemon, give them some long-lasting energy for the upcoming battles."
"Yeah, I'm sure my Mightyena's got a much bigger appetite now..."
In my head, Poochyena's evolution replayed. The dog got bigger in a flash, growing more than twice his size instantly, right before my eyes.
Finally. I think this Great Ball will be able to hold this pup and keep him from doing any more damage.
"****!" I started running.
"What's up, man?"
"Do you think the Great Ball could hold Amigo as a Mightyena?"
"****!"
Butterfree!!! A purple Butterfree dropped down right in front of us, stopping us dead in our tracks.
"Not so fast! I know you guys have pokemon, you were just intimidated by me, so you hid your balls!" The bug catcher from earlier appeared behind us, stepping out from behind some foliage along the path.
"Kid, our balls are too big to hide, please leave us alone."
"I'll ignore that remark. My bugs and I will go easy on you if you just agree to a battle! Go, Caterpie!"
Will would always laugh as a first response to any undesirable situation. Always. It was like he didn't know what else to do, or maybe he just wouldn't let anything push any of his other buttons.
"Haha, come on! Leave us alone, please. We just realized that we have an emergency to tend to." Will and I turned to walk away.
"Silk Shot!" A violin played rapidly, signifying the beginning of the match.
"No! No! No!" Will was hit by the silk shot and it stuck onto his back. "You're not gonna win a tug-of-war with me, bug!" Will took off in a sudden sprint and yanked the Caterpie from his master's side. The bug pokemon must have been in shock. He flew off the ground and bounced up and down behind us, tethered to my friend's back.
"Stop! Caterpie, disengage! Disengage!"
Maybe it had been a poorly-executed silk shot that got partially stuck on the caterpie itself because, no matter how loud the kid yelled, the Caterpie continued to be dragged through the woods behind us.
Butterfree!!
Now silk shots were raining down from the tree tops as the kid's Butterfree chased us from above. I covered my head with my hands and continued to run. Will was still sprinting with no regards for the Caterpie being dragged behind him.
Butterfree shot another silk shot. In its haste and fury, it made the same mistake as the Caterpie and part of its stringy attack had been stuck to its face. A silk string dangled from the sky above me as I continued to run. And then this sadistic thought came to mind. I tried to dismiss it, but it was too perfect. I grabbed the silk string and started to run faster, Butterfree being yanked behind me at the other end.
I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the joy of flying a kite.
"Are you actually gonna give this kid a battle?" I asked Will.
"No, I'm not planning on it."
"Then I guess it's not right for us to string him along like this, then, you know?"
"HAHAHA, you're sick, man!"
"Hahaha!"
- - - - - -----
Amigo strolled beside me as I walked towards the Mauville gym. That wasn't where I was headed, that's just a directional notation. I guess I was also just headed West. The wind was headed East and Amigo was enjoying the hell out of it just like I thought he would.
"Haha, you love it, don't you?" I ran my hand through his thick black fur and Amigo let his tongue hang out and catch the breeze. In the apartment we had large box fans just for Amigo. The electric bill was probably a few pennies more, but it more than paid for itself. We'd come home and find him sitting or sleeping calmly in front of the fan on full blast. He only ran to feel the wind on his face and through his fur.
The sky had become purple, one of the final colors of day.
It's time to head back, Amigo. I stopped in my tracks and turned around, rolling the gravel beneath my feet against the road. I swept my gaze past the gym quickly. Without really noticing it, I had walked just as far as the gym and then decided to turn around. Maybe I was headed in that direction after all. Amigo looked up at my face which was focused on the Mauville gym, and he let out a sympathetic whimper and nudged his head against my leg.
I don't know if he thinks that I blame him. I don't. Things happen to me, I'm responsible for them. If I couldn't do it, it's because I didn't do my job right. Any inadequacies of the pokemon are to be taken into account by a good trainer. I should tell him this. I would tell him this if I was sure he could understand me. I'll just pat his head and smile at him. I honestly feel like I could lose a thousand battles with Amigo and still be one of the happiest trainers alive.
We strolled into the residential area of Mauville just as the street lights came on. "Return." Mightyena disappeared inside his Ultra Ball.
Will and some other trainers were leaving the building when we came to the door.
"Hey, you're back just in time! Come on, man. Don't go upstairs and go to sleep, come with us. You'll be glad you did. Don't sulk, man, be fun. Haha, that rhymed, didn't it?"
"What part? Wait, no." Will was obviously already a little drunk.
"You won't come out with your best friend? I've known you since we were...well, practically since we were babies."
"No, I meant nothing you said rhymed just now."
"Oh, that's cool. Didn't know I was getting ticketed by the poet police tonight, hahahaha!" Will, still laughing, grabbed my arm and started walking away from the apartment. "It's for your own good, man. Save some sorrow for the lonely. Tonight, eat, drink, ****, and be merry!" I didn't want to go, but I gave in to Will Power. He dragged me off into a small crowd of other young trainers headed the same way.
-----------
The Pokemon rap played in the background, full blast, with bass that shook the club and everyone on the dance floor. Volume was full to the brim with talented young trainers, relieving the stress of their journeys to hypnotizing beats and light patterns swept across a dark room. Alakazam was the DJ, spinning the right tunes for the crowd with a psychic's accuracy.
Alakazam ran the bar, too.
"I'll have a beer, you know which kind." A mug floated down the bar towards me, passed up by a martini headed elsewhere. A floating vodka flew over my head and to the person sitting next to me.
The girl sitting next to me grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, don't I recognize you from somewhere?"
"Oh, hey! What are you doing here?"
"Having a good time, trying to get drunk, obviously, hahaha" she laughed as some alcohol sloshed out of her glass. "I think I should be asking you what you're doing here. You were two quarters ahead of me in school, how are we at the same gym battle, hmmm?"
No man wants to seem like a failure in front of a cute girl. Instead of telling - her name was...Janine - Janine that I'd failed to get the badge from Mauville twice, I stammered and stuttered into a lie about enjoying the town too much, taking a hiatus, living and relaxing a while, etcetera.
Her drunken green eyes gave me a hard look and then transitioned into a smile with the rest of her face.
"That's ********, isn't it!? You didn't get the badge yet, did you? Hahaha."
The laughter didn't come off as judgmental or mocking. I even smiled along with her.
"Nah."
"That's fine. Are you at least good at dancing?"
Janine and I had attended the same elementary school and the same Pokemon trainer school. We had been acquaintances for many years, friends for a few. She came from quite a conservative family just like mine. She had been quite a conservative girl. It was a surprise to see her here like this. I joined her on the dance floor.
Yelling, I said, "Janine, it's good to see you."
She didn't respond, but continued to dance. I did too. Poorly. She didn't seem to mind. The night went on, but my clearest memories stop there. I think we left the club shortly after. Where did we go; My apartment, the pokemon center? I don't remember. I just know where I woke up.
My head was pounding rhythmically, like a second heartbeat. My vision was blurry, my throat dry. I lay sprawled out on some rough carpeting still fully clothed. I slowly became aware of my limbs. They felt heavy and lifeless, I was drained. I moved my arm up to message my temples and squinted with one eye to survey my surroundings.
"Gah, do I have a hangover." I sat up slowly.
"You don't really hold your alcohol well, do you?" Janine brought me a cup of coffee. I almost took a sip, but then my faculties started coming back.
"Does this really help? I hear the caffeine restricts the blood vessels. Will this make it worse? Do you have water?"
I didn't know a whole lot about a lot of things, but I was always cautious to try and apply what I did know to the current problem. It's kind of like a paranoia. If there is any random shard of knowledge floating around in my head that would make a decision possibly dangerous, I ran with it. I lived my life with a factor of safety of 18.
Janine left the room. When she reappeared, she had a glass of water in her hand. Even then, part of me wondered if she used at least an on-tap filter, but I ignored it.
"Thanks." As I took a drink, I realized where I was. At least, I realized where I might be. "Is this...your bedroom, Janine? Did we...?"
"Yes...and No. But you can tell your friends whatever you like, haha." She knew I wasn't that kind of person, so we both laughed. I sipped from my glass a bit more.
"So, uh, do your parents know that you've become a party animal?"
"Not really, but I think it's best that way. Otherwise they'd worry."
Her room was a cross section of a girl living dichotomously. On the one hand you had her Ember necklace made to resemble the pokemon attack and pay homage to Ho-oh. The symbol, purifying fire. On the other hand, you had shot glasses and beaded necklaces. A picture of her family sat on her nightstand; her brother, mother, and father.
"How is little Bruce these days?" I asked, mostly to avoid an unpleasant and stagnant air of silence.
"Well, he's taller than I am now. Started his first year of high school last fall."
"That must mean we're adults...damn." We both laughed.
-----------------------
That afternoon was all about battles and the money to be made from those battles. Will and I stood at the door to our apartment building with hands on belt and minds on battle. Will's pokebelt was strung through the tattered edges of his khaki shorts' belt loops, some of which were no longer attached to his waistband at both ends. As a result, the pokebelt slouched sloppily on his left side. Next to him stood his Castform, who simultaneously donned a pair of shades and a raincoat.
"We need about three hundred more dollars to cover this month's bills. That should be about six or so battles. Let's split up. Don't come back until you've got your half!" I turned to walk towards the bike trail and Will grabbed me by the shirt collar.
"Oh yeah, and remember; pokemon battles are not about friendship, they're not about the strength of your heart, it's a science and the only thing that will ensure victory is the strength of the wallop you can let down on your opponent. Stay sharp, buddy."
I went my way, he went his. Towards the bike trail, small groups of trainers would congregate and battle for money and so this is where I was headed. As I got closer, I could hear the intimidating growls and the clashing attacks. Amigo's pokeball began to shake; he was obviously very excited. We walked up on a battle in progress and decided to stop and watch. Two exotic pokemon, an Espeon and a Scyther were on the field, both looking exhausted and injured.
"This should be an interesting one." I knew I was on the clock, and I could feel Will's eyes leering at me from behind. I actually turned around, half expecting him to be standing there with his arms folded, disapprovingly staring. There were plenty of hours in the day, we'd be fine. I looked on.
"Your Hitmonlee is really tough, and really fast. I'm surprised he's survived against my Espeon for this long...Hmm. You've even managed to do some damage. But your hopes, if they are so lofty as to be of victory and not simply of a dignified defeat, end with this..."
"Shut up! Hitmonlee, hit that Espeon with an Alpha two!" It must have been some code that he and the pokemon had worked out to disguise their strategy. What followed was the lead-in to a Double Kick, followed by the execution of a High Jump Kick.
"Psychic!" Espeon reared back as Hitmonlee approached for his Double Kick. She let loose a wave of psychic energy in his direction catching his leg in the middle of his High Jump Kick. The rest of the energy flew back past the other trainer and I felt the force of it. Thrown off-balance and badly injured, the Hitmonlee fell from the sky and hit the ground with a thud and a puff of dust. I staggered a bit before regaining my balance.
Then I felt dizzy again. My vision became blurry and the sights around me twisted and flowed together. Then I heard a short whisper.
"You'll die before the end of your journey."
And my world stopped spinning. My vision cleared and everything was normal. What had just happened? Did that psychic attack hit me and predict my death?
"****, what does that mean?!" The battle over, I walked up to the Espeon's trainer. "I think your pokemon just put a spell on me or something. Can't you be more careful about where you aim your psychic attacks? I was standing pretty far back and I still got hit a little."
"A spell?" He asked. On his face he had the look of someone who understood your misunderstanding but still tarried around the answer. "From a psychic attack?"
"****, I don't know."
"Did you hear something?"
"Yes. I heard 'You'll die before the end of your journey'." This evoked serious concern. And seeing his expression, I became worried too.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say, really. My psychic must have predicted the time of your death. It came out in that attack. He should have been predicting the Hitmonlee's defeat, but sometimes he loses focus."
"What? I don't understand." I understood, but as a last defense, I hoped that I didn't.
"You see, a Psychic attack can be modeled as a distribution of psychic energy whose intensity varies inversely with the square of the distance from the center of the attack. The most intense part of that psychic attack is at the center, liken it to the blue portion of a Charizard's tail flame. Radially outward, the predictive energy dissipates rapidly. This energy is spread out over a far enough radius that the probability of hitting the target is very close to 1. As the psychic pokemon becomes stronger, that radius tightens as his predictive powers become more precise. The level of precision and the distribution of the psychic energy pattern is what is measured in a 'Special Attack' rating for a psychic pokemon. The limit of this value describes a psychic attack with zero radius and 100% accuracy, a feat that only Mewtwo can achieve...but I'm sorry, what was it that you were asking?"
I actually barely heard anything he said. My mind was alert for keywords and phrases like "yes, it's true" or "you will die", but he didn't say any of these things. His brow wrinkled and his mouth twisted.
"OH! Damn. Yeah, so you're going to die. That's what we were talking about! Forgive me for my rambl...oh ****. I'm sorry."
My insides twisted, I breathed heavily. I thought, "maybe I'm dreaming", but that wasn't the case. "Maybe he doesn't know what he's talking about", but he probably did.
"What the hell! This can't possibly be right! First of all, there'd be some kind of law against public psychic battles if you could just catch some unwarranted MIS-fortune cookie over the airwaves on a leisurely stroll! And Psychic pokemon's powers are all stochastic anyway, it's not written in stone. Pssh, ugh. Shhhh," I was reduced to making random noises and grunts. I was flustered, frantic, and bewildered at the same time. Every thought I had come up with to discredit this prediction fell under the weight of the possibility that it could be true, though. As with everything else, that possibility of danger outweighed any other line of thought in my mind. He just watched me flounder.
"I'm really sorry about this. Hey, maybe you're right, maybe it was a mis-reading. But most likely, you're going to die - when was it? - right, before the end of your journey. This is really terrible. Usually Espeon's good about focusing his predictions on the other pokemon, but...ah, really, damn. Terrible, terrible." He shook his head.
"Yeah, says you. They should put your ****in' ADD Espeon to sleep! Damnit!" I didn't do any battling that afternoon. The sun rolled down the westward sky slowly and I counted the seconds, each moment slipped by like sand through the center of an hourglass. Will found me that night laying on my back in the middle of the living room floor.
"Did you make your one fifty? And quicker than me, too! Good work, buddy." He took his pokebelt off and laid it on the crate. "Well, you look appropriately exhausted. Couldn't even make it to your bed, I see." His voice trailed as he walked back to his.
"No, I didn't make it." Will returned to the kitchen in his bare feet. He kicked at my side.
"Then get up, man! ****'s due tomorrow!"
"Will, I might be dead tomorrow."
PREVIEW
MAUVILLE: STINT OR STAY?
The sky was a late-afternoon gold.
"It's not funny, stop laughing."
"I'm not laughing."
"Well stop smiling, then. This match was very important to me. It's the second time I've failed to earn this badge. After two months of extra training, I don't really see how I could've missed the mark so completely. What am I missing?"
"Ah, I don't know. I wouldn't worry about it, though."
"Well thanks, I feel better," I said in a mildly sarcastic tone. There was no point in biting or blatant sarcasm with him. He'd just look at me with a confused or amused contortion of his otherwise careless face and then I'd feel like I'd wasted the energy.
"You should feel better. Let's just have a good time tonight and not worry about it. You'll train smarter and harder for the next match and you'll do a good job."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"I believe you can do it." With this, Will put his arm around my shoulder and we both headed to the apartment I rented in Mauville.
Short-term leases weren't hard to come by in gym towns: there was a large flow of travelers in and out of the city during any given season, most of them trainers there for a short stint then gone. We had rented a minimally furnished two bedroom apartment near the center of the town; close to the gym and close to the club. Originally, we had planned to rent this room for two months: One month for intensive training, half a month for battling local trainers for money and items, and then half a month for the gym battle and the post-victory celebration/relaxation period. This was the fifth month that Will and I had lived in our apartment on Illumise Drive. I didn't have many things, but even then, much of what I had was still unpacked. After five months, I had been getting dressed out of a suitcase and pulling my toothbrush out of a plastic bag.
I dropped my keys on the table by our door and sat down on our make-shift couch. It squalled and then settled. Will went straight back to the room.
"Where are we going tonight?"
"Probably Club Volume. There should be a new group of trainers passing through, most likely with a high volume of sultry young ladies looking for a good time." Will was in the other room, looking for something to wear. I could hear the drawers sliding back and forth along their tracks. I was sitting on a small crate in our living room, still sulking a bit, not totally sold on the idea of going out.
"I don't know if I'm going. I feel like just going to sleep, really."
"That's fine, I guess. If that's how you want to spend your moment. I'm leaving in about an hour, so you've got time to change your mind and those clothes and shoes. They smell like defeat. Or your feet. Hey, you know even later, you can catch up with me. You know where it is."
"Right," I said, pointing my head in the direction of the bedroom. I lifted myself off of the crate and took a look through our living room window.
It was the orange color of sunset outside.
"All right. I'm gonna take a walk. I'll see you later...or tomorrow morning."
"Haha, yeah, depending on if it's a good or bad night, right!?"
I stepped out of the apartment and headed down the hall towards the exit. Walking through the front lawn, out to the sidewalk, I got hit by a comforting breeze.
"I know who'd love this." I reached for the pokeball on my right side. "Amigo, come out."
Ever since he was a pooch..yena, Amigo has been a big fan of a good breeze. Before I figured this out, he used to run as fast as he could through my other apartments, usually causing damage that I had to pay for. He got out of his pokeball if he wasn't being supervised and then proceeded to run amuck.
"We're not going to be able to return your deposit. This dog has caused at least that amount in damage to the walls."
The second time it happened, I invested in a more expensive pokeball, a Great one, one that I didn't think he could escape from. This worked fine until he evolved...
Will and I were headed back from lunch at the bread shop in Dewford about a year ago. We both had left our pokebelts at home to avoid any annoying random challenges. Some trainers were so wired, though, it didn't seem to matter.
"You sir! I challenge you to a two-on-two battle! Release your pokemon!" Yelled a kid in short shorts holding a net over his shoulder.
"I think you need a new prescription. With glasses as large as those, I'm surprised you didn't see that our belts are absolutely devoid of pokeballs. So, sorry." I said this and then took a bite out of the cresaunt in my left hand.
"The pedestrian trail is that-a-way, then, busters! This path is only for trainers! Why are you walking through here!?"
"It's shorter," Will answered as we continued to walk.
We walked past the infuriated young trainer and through the woods towards our apartment.
"What do you think about those bug trainers?" In my head, I was prepared to call them lame or respectable.
"Whatever, you know. It's what they feel strongly about, they should train bugs. That kid, though; not as a bug trainer, but as a trainer is way too high strung!"
"Ha, I know!" I pushed imaginary glasses up the bridge of my nose and talked in a nasal voice. "What are you doing here?! You know this road is for trainers only! Nerrrr, RULES!". We both had a laugh.
Will was never quick to criticize, so I rarely made fun of anyone even though I often felt like it.
"That Dewford bread was so good. We have to go back there and stock up before we leave, man. Maybe get a little extra for the pokemon, give them some long-lasting energy for the upcoming battles."
"Yeah, I'm sure my Mightyena's got a much bigger appetite now..."
In my head, Poochyena's evolution replayed. The dog got bigger in a flash, growing more than twice his size instantly, right before my eyes.
Finally. I think this Great Ball will be able to hold this pup and keep him from doing any more damage.
"****!" I started running.
"What's up, man?"
"Do you think the Great Ball could hold Amigo as a Mightyena?"
"****!"
Butterfree!!! A purple Butterfree dropped down right in front of us, stopping us dead in our tracks.
"Not so fast! I know you guys have pokemon, you were just intimidated by me, so you hid your balls!" The bug catcher from earlier appeared behind us, stepping out from behind some foliage along the path.
"Kid, our balls are too big to hide, please leave us alone."
"I'll ignore that remark. My bugs and I will go easy on you if you just agree to a battle! Go, Caterpie!"
Will would always laugh as a first response to any undesirable situation. Always. It was like he didn't know what else to do, or maybe he just wouldn't let anything push any of his other buttons.
"Haha, come on! Leave us alone, please. We just realized that we have an emergency to tend to." Will and I turned to walk away.
"Silk Shot!" A violin played rapidly, signifying the beginning of the match.
"No! No! No!" Will was hit by the silk shot and it stuck onto his back. "You're not gonna win a tug-of-war with me, bug!" Will took off in a sudden sprint and yanked the Caterpie from his master's side. The bug pokemon must have been in shock. He flew off the ground and bounced up and down behind us, tethered to my friend's back.
"Stop! Caterpie, disengage! Disengage!"
Maybe it had been a poorly-executed silk shot that got partially stuck on the caterpie itself because, no matter how loud the kid yelled, the Caterpie continued to be dragged through the woods behind us.
Butterfree!!
Now silk shots were raining down from the tree tops as the kid's Butterfree chased us from above. I covered my head with my hands and continued to run. Will was still sprinting with no regards for the Caterpie being dragged behind him.
Butterfree shot another silk shot. In its haste and fury, it made the same mistake as the Caterpie and part of its stringy attack had been stuck to its face. A silk string dangled from the sky above me as I continued to run. And then this sadistic thought came to mind. I tried to dismiss it, but it was too perfect. I grabbed the silk string and started to run faster, Butterfree being yanked behind me at the other end.
I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the joy of flying a kite.
"Are you actually gonna give this kid a battle?" I asked Will.
"No, I'm not planning on it."
"Then I guess it's not right for us to string him along like this, then, you know?"
"HAHAHA, you're sick, man!"
"Hahaha!"
- - - - - -----
Amigo strolled beside me as I walked towards the Mauville gym. That wasn't where I was headed, that's just a directional notation. I guess I was also just headed West. The wind was headed East and Amigo was enjoying the hell out of it just like I thought he would.
"Haha, you love it, don't you?" I ran my hand through his thick black fur and Amigo let his tongue hang out and catch the breeze. In the apartment we had large box fans just for Amigo. The electric bill was probably a few pennies more, but it more than paid for itself. We'd come home and find him sitting or sleeping calmly in front of the fan on full blast. He only ran to feel the wind on his face and through his fur.
The sky had become purple, one of the final colors of day.
It's time to head back, Amigo. I stopped in my tracks and turned around, rolling the gravel beneath my feet against the road. I swept my gaze past the gym quickly. Without really noticing it, I had walked just as far as the gym and then decided to turn around. Maybe I was headed in that direction after all. Amigo looked up at my face which was focused on the Mauville gym, and he let out a sympathetic whimper and nudged his head against my leg.
I don't know if he thinks that I blame him. I don't. Things happen to me, I'm responsible for them. If I couldn't do it, it's because I didn't do my job right. Any inadequacies of the pokemon are to be taken into account by a good trainer. I should tell him this. I would tell him this if I was sure he could understand me. I'll just pat his head and smile at him. I honestly feel like I could lose a thousand battles with Amigo and still be one of the happiest trainers alive.
We strolled into the residential area of Mauville just as the street lights came on. "Return." Mightyena disappeared inside his Ultra Ball.
Will and some other trainers were leaving the building when we came to the door.
"Hey, you're back just in time! Come on, man. Don't go upstairs and go to sleep, come with us. You'll be glad you did. Don't sulk, man, be fun. Haha, that rhymed, didn't it?"
"What part? Wait, no." Will was obviously already a little drunk.
"You won't come out with your best friend? I've known you since we were...well, practically since we were babies."
"No, I meant nothing you said rhymed just now."
"Oh, that's cool. Didn't know I was getting ticketed by the poet police tonight, hahahaha!" Will, still laughing, grabbed my arm and started walking away from the apartment. "It's for your own good, man. Save some sorrow for the lonely. Tonight, eat, drink, ****, and be merry!" I didn't want to go, but I gave in to Will Power. He dragged me off into a small crowd of other young trainers headed the same way.
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The Pokemon rap played in the background, full blast, with bass that shook the club and everyone on the dance floor. Volume was full to the brim with talented young trainers, relieving the stress of their journeys to hypnotizing beats and light patterns swept across a dark room. Alakazam was the DJ, spinning the right tunes for the crowd with a psychic's accuracy.
Alakazam ran the bar, too.
"I'll have a beer, you know which kind." A mug floated down the bar towards me, passed up by a martini headed elsewhere. A floating vodka flew over my head and to the person sitting next to me.
The girl sitting next to me grabbed my shoulder. "Hey, don't I recognize you from somewhere?"
"Oh, hey! What are you doing here?"
"Having a good time, trying to get drunk, obviously, hahaha" she laughed as some alcohol sloshed out of her glass. "I think I should be asking you what you're doing here. You were two quarters ahead of me in school, how are we at the same gym battle, hmmm?"
No man wants to seem like a failure in front of a cute girl. Instead of telling - her name was...Janine - Janine that I'd failed to get the badge from Mauville twice, I stammered and stuttered into a lie about enjoying the town too much, taking a hiatus, living and relaxing a while, etcetera.
Her drunken green eyes gave me a hard look and then transitioned into a smile with the rest of her face.
"That's ********, isn't it!? You didn't get the badge yet, did you? Hahaha."
The laughter didn't come off as judgmental or mocking. I even smiled along with her.
"Nah."
"That's fine. Are you at least good at dancing?"
Janine and I had attended the same elementary school and the same Pokemon trainer school. We had been acquaintances for many years, friends for a few. She came from quite a conservative family just like mine. She had been quite a conservative girl. It was a surprise to see her here like this. I joined her on the dance floor.
Yelling, I said, "Janine, it's good to see you."
She didn't respond, but continued to dance. I did too. Poorly. She didn't seem to mind. The night went on, but my clearest memories stop there. I think we left the club shortly after. Where did we go; My apartment, the pokemon center? I don't remember. I just know where I woke up.
My head was pounding rhythmically, like a second heartbeat. My vision was blurry, my throat dry. I lay sprawled out on some rough carpeting still fully clothed. I slowly became aware of my limbs. They felt heavy and lifeless, I was drained. I moved my arm up to message my temples and squinted with one eye to survey my surroundings.
"Gah, do I have a hangover." I sat up slowly.
"You don't really hold your alcohol well, do you?" Janine brought me a cup of coffee. I almost took a sip, but then my faculties started coming back.
"Does this really help? I hear the caffeine restricts the blood vessels. Will this make it worse? Do you have water?"
I didn't know a whole lot about a lot of things, but I was always cautious to try and apply what I did know to the current problem. It's kind of like a paranoia. If there is any random shard of knowledge floating around in my head that would make a decision possibly dangerous, I ran with it. I lived my life with a factor of safety of 18.
Janine left the room. When she reappeared, she had a glass of water in her hand. Even then, part of me wondered if she used at least an on-tap filter, but I ignored it.
"Thanks." As I took a drink, I realized where I was. At least, I realized where I might be. "Is this...your bedroom, Janine? Did we...?"
"Yes...and No. But you can tell your friends whatever you like, haha." She knew I wasn't that kind of person, so we both laughed. I sipped from my glass a bit more.
"So, uh, do your parents know that you've become a party animal?"
"Not really, but I think it's best that way. Otherwise they'd worry."
Her room was a cross section of a girl living dichotomously. On the one hand you had her Ember necklace made to resemble the pokemon attack and pay homage to Ho-oh. The symbol, purifying fire. On the other hand, you had shot glasses and beaded necklaces. A picture of her family sat on her nightstand; her brother, mother, and father.
"How is little Bruce these days?" I asked, mostly to avoid an unpleasant and stagnant air of silence.
"Well, he's taller than I am now. Started his first year of high school last fall."
"That must mean we're adults...damn." We both laughed.
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That afternoon was all about battles and the money to be made from those battles. Will and I stood at the door to our apartment building with hands on belt and minds on battle. Will's pokebelt was strung through the tattered edges of his khaki shorts' belt loops, some of which were no longer attached to his waistband at both ends. As a result, the pokebelt slouched sloppily on his left side. Next to him stood his Castform, who simultaneously donned a pair of shades and a raincoat.
"We need about three hundred more dollars to cover this month's bills. That should be about six or so battles. Let's split up. Don't come back until you've got your half!" I turned to walk towards the bike trail and Will grabbed me by the shirt collar.
"Oh yeah, and remember; pokemon battles are not about friendship, they're not about the strength of your heart, it's a science and the only thing that will ensure victory is the strength of the wallop you can let down on your opponent. Stay sharp, buddy."
I went my way, he went his. Towards the bike trail, small groups of trainers would congregate and battle for money and so this is where I was headed. As I got closer, I could hear the intimidating growls and the clashing attacks. Amigo's pokeball began to shake; he was obviously very excited. We walked up on a battle in progress and decided to stop and watch. Two exotic pokemon, an Espeon and a Scyther were on the field, both looking exhausted and injured.
"This should be an interesting one." I knew I was on the clock, and I could feel Will's eyes leering at me from behind. I actually turned around, half expecting him to be standing there with his arms folded, disapprovingly staring. There were plenty of hours in the day, we'd be fine. I looked on.
"Your Hitmonlee is really tough, and really fast. I'm surprised he's survived against my Espeon for this long...Hmm. You've even managed to do some damage. But your hopes, if they are so lofty as to be of victory and not simply of a dignified defeat, end with this..."
"Shut up! Hitmonlee, hit that Espeon with an Alpha two!" It must have been some code that he and the pokemon had worked out to disguise their strategy. What followed was the lead-in to a Double Kick, followed by the execution of a High Jump Kick.
"Psychic!" Espeon reared back as Hitmonlee approached for his Double Kick. She let loose a wave of psychic energy in his direction catching his leg in the middle of his High Jump Kick. The rest of the energy flew back past the other trainer and I felt the force of it. Thrown off-balance and badly injured, the Hitmonlee fell from the sky and hit the ground with a thud and a puff of dust. I staggered a bit before regaining my balance.
Then I felt dizzy again. My vision became blurry and the sights around me twisted and flowed together. Then I heard a short whisper.
"You'll die before the end of your journey."
And my world stopped spinning. My vision cleared and everything was normal. What had just happened? Did that psychic attack hit me and predict my death?
"****, what does that mean?!" The battle over, I walked up to the Espeon's trainer. "I think your pokemon just put a spell on me or something. Can't you be more careful about where you aim your psychic attacks? I was standing pretty far back and I still got hit a little."
"A spell?" He asked. On his face he had the look of someone who understood your misunderstanding but still tarried around the answer. "From a psychic attack?"
"****, I don't know."
"Did you hear something?"
"Yes. I heard 'You'll die before the end of your journey'." This evoked serious concern. And seeing his expression, I became worried too.
"I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say, really. My psychic must have predicted the time of your death. It came out in that attack. He should have been predicting the Hitmonlee's defeat, but sometimes he loses focus."
"What? I don't understand." I understood, but as a last defense, I hoped that I didn't.
"You see, a Psychic attack can be modeled as a distribution of psychic energy whose intensity varies inversely with the square of the distance from the center of the attack. The most intense part of that psychic attack is at the center, liken it to the blue portion of a Charizard's tail flame. Radially outward, the predictive energy dissipates rapidly. This energy is spread out over a far enough radius that the probability of hitting the target is very close to 1. As the psychic pokemon becomes stronger, that radius tightens as his predictive powers become more precise. The level of precision and the distribution of the psychic energy pattern is what is measured in a 'Special Attack' rating for a psychic pokemon. The limit of this value describes a psychic attack with zero radius and 100% accuracy, a feat that only Mewtwo can achieve...but I'm sorry, what was it that you were asking?"
I actually barely heard anything he said. My mind was alert for keywords and phrases like "yes, it's true" or "you will die", but he didn't say any of these things. His brow wrinkled and his mouth twisted.
"OH! Damn. Yeah, so you're going to die. That's what we were talking about! Forgive me for my rambl...oh ****. I'm sorry."
My insides twisted, I breathed heavily. I thought, "maybe I'm dreaming", but that wasn't the case. "Maybe he doesn't know what he's talking about", but he probably did.
"What the hell! This can't possibly be right! First of all, there'd be some kind of law against public psychic battles if you could just catch some unwarranted MIS-fortune cookie over the airwaves on a leisurely stroll! And Psychic pokemon's powers are all stochastic anyway, it's not written in stone. Pssh, ugh. Shhhh," I was reduced to making random noises and grunts. I was flustered, frantic, and bewildered at the same time. Every thought I had come up with to discredit this prediction fell under the weight of the possibility that it could be true, though. As with everything else, that possibility of danger outweighed any other line of thought in my mind. He just watched me flounder.
"I'm really sorry about this. Hey, maybe you're right, maybe it was a mis-reading. But most likely, you're going to die - when was it? - right, before the end of your journey. This is really terrible. Usually Espeon's good about focusing his predictions on the other pokemon, but...ah, really, damn. Terrible, terrible." He shook his head.
"Yeah, says you. They should put your ****in' ADD Espeon to sleep! Damnit!" I didn't do any battling that afternoon. The sun rolled down the westward sky slowly and I counted the seconds, each moment slipped by like sand through the center of an hourglass. Will found me that night laying on my back in the middle of the living room floor.
"Did you make your one fifty? And quicker than me, too! Good work, buddy." He took his pokebelt off and laid it on the crate. "Well, you look appropriately exhausted. Couldn't even make it to your bed, I see." His voice trailed as he walked back to his.
"No, I didn't make it." Will returned to the kitchen in his bare feet. He kicked at my side.
"Then get up, man! ****'s due tomorrow!"
"Will, I might be dead tomorrow."
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And if it didn't, how did what's-his-face know that a high jump kick would be next? Or is it a mixture of the two? Or ...?