LOVE AND OTHER NIGHTMARES
chapter six
how to take a stand
*
“We're gonna watch a movie tonight.”
It's a simple declaration, one that makes Virokoe and Kephi throw a fit for their respective reasons. Twenty minutes have passed since Virokoe was supposed to take a bath, and Kephi's beat as it is. Why make him stay up for two more agonizing hours? Well, they'll have to toss me into the dimension world if they want to go rid of me that easy.
“It'll be fun. We can bond over it and everything.” With that, I pull a chocolate bar out from my pocket and show it to them. “Eat what you want, say what you want, do what you want.” They stare at me blankly. “Be nice about it,” I add as Virokoe comes to sniff the sweets in my hand. I don't mention that the chocolate melted thanks to the sun,
and it kind of got ruined during the whole lake spectacle. He's too perceptive, anyway, saying that the wrapper is wrinkly and it smells like old cabbage. He pouts and walks away.
That doesn't deter Kephi, though. He comes up to me, rubs his antennae against the top of the paper before grabbing hold of it and swallowing it in one gulp. “Thanks,” he says. “Midnight snack. Goodnight.”
“
No! You can rest your eyes while I give Virokoe a bath, but no sleeping yet.”
“Stupid humans and their sleeping schedules.”
“Hey, I have one too!” Virokoe snaps, his fur prickling as if he's about to pick a fight in the middle of an expensive Pokémon Center room.
“Oh, no you don't,” I say. I step past them and into the bathroom, knowing Virokoe will follow. He trots along beside me, describing the exact temperature the water should be. I don't have a thermometer, so I figure I'll give it my best shot lest I want a face full of purrloin claws. I pull the lever and let the water flow. When I think it's warm enough, I put the drain down and tell him to wait just five more minutes, and then he can wash up.
“Next time, start a little earlier,” he says. “If we were in Jubilife, you'd be fired on the spot.”
“If I got fired, I'd be grateful,” I retort. He walks away with a huff and lays down on his towel, one that he picked out from a batch Nurse Joy offered us. The nurse didn't seem to mind Virokoe's picky attitude, but I felt obligated to apologize for it anyway. Now I feel obligated to apologize
again. “Just kidding, of course.”
“Yes, I'm sure.”.
“I tried hard to get you to come with me, didn't I?”
“If the television stage workers changed from day to day, I would never have gone with you.”
How blunt. It hurts to know he only came with me because there weren't enough people to give him attention. It makes me wonder what will happen when he's bored of me, or when he realizes the team isn't going to play along with his fantasy world. Maybe Kephi's right in the way he speeds us along. The faster the recovery, the sooner the journey is over. Or is it vice versa? The fact that I have to pick a movie is first on my mind. Ah, well. Tomorrow is another day, and early morning is best when it comes to adaptation and learning.
“Hmm,” I say. The second wind I experienced when we reached Oreburgh Gate is disappearing fast, it seems. I gather Virokoe up in my arms and place him in the bath slowly, in case he has a tantrum about the temperature. He purrs with contentment. “Do you use human body wash and everything?” I ask him, eyebrows raised.
“No,” Virokoe says, glaring at me. “There better be something for pokémon up there,” he threatens, referring to the rack hanging from the knob.
I look and, thank Arceus, there's a body wash with the scent and color of green apples, made specifically for pokémon. It's probably not the fanciest bath he's ever had, but I'm not about to complain and set him off. I clean him as well as I can, let him lick wherever until he's satisfied and then I use the hair dryer. After leaving it to him to finish up, I decide to check on Kephi.
I'm not surprised to find him halfway up the television, covering it with his gross slime. His slime is becoming worse than the prospect of poison. I pull him off for what seems like the millionth time, and scold him so fast that I'm not sure what I'm even saying.
“That's it,” I say, gasping for breath. The motion reminds me of earlier today. “You're staying up whether you like it or not. I know what we're watching now too.”
I flop down on the bed, fetching the remote and forcing Kephi to lay next to me. Virokoe joins us soon and ends up taking half of the bed's space. I tell him to move, but he's hesitant, saying he's used to moving around a lot when he sleeps. I'm expecting bruises in the morning.
As the night wears on, mixed feelings set in between all of us. We rent and watch
Being John Malkovich, a comedic fantasy movie about people finding a portal that lets them see through an actor's eyes. They're able to read his thoughts, see through his eyes and everything else. Kephi yawns once in a while, Virokoe squeals at the movie's premise and I jump out of bed to block the vulgar scenes. My pokémon have to stay as innocent as possible.
It's little late for that, but it's the thought that counts.
*
Heeding Gregory’s warning soon proves to be impossible. I don’t
want to explore the mines, not unless given an incentive. Rocks and minerals and whatever else aren’t my thing. They’re too concrete and physical. Only abstract concepts interest me, and even then, they have to stimulate my brain to really get me thinking.
There’s always an exception. My exception comes in the form of yet another pokémon from Unova. Not only is Kephi going to hate me for this, but also the saying about curiosity killing cats has no relation whatsoever to Virokoe. Kephi's antsy and anxious to battle; Virokoe's deprived and dust is getting on his skin. Kephi's ready to sit down and eat; Virokoe's ready to strut down the street.
I had figured taking them to the pokémart wouldn’t cause any harm. There, I could buy food and Virokoe could talk to anyone who would listen. I was wrong. I’m wrong a lot these days, and I’m not sure if my luck has always been this rotten or if it’s just something every trainer goes through. Either way, I have a new target pokémon. Kephi and Virokoe are unaware of this, and it’s best to keep it that way for the time being.
My first impression of the tepig: he’s an absolute sweetheart. He’s waiting in line, alone, murmuring a grocery list to himself with a fixed expression. I’m behind him and I can hear part of the extensive list. He needs rage candy bars, lava cookies, slowpoke tails, and Arceus knows what else. Something tells me he isn’t here because he chose to be. He’s here on someone else’s behalf. For a moment I wish he were here for me. There’s no way Kephi or Virokoe would act like that without provocation.
I fiddle with the can of catnip in my hand. It occurs to me that one can isn’t going to please Virokoe, and I forgot about Kephi until now. For all I know, he’s stuck inside a freezer, unwrapping packaged foods. I can see my purrloin, at least. He’s trying to converse with someone who ignores him in favor of browsing hygiene products.
Watching two out of three pokémon isn’t bad, right? I can’t babysit them every single second of every single day.
It's the tepig's turn. The clerk recognizes him and bends down to rummage through the shelves underneath the counter. The clerk pulls out three boxes tied with ribbons, then hands them to the tepig. The tepig shuffles them onto his back. Though his stomach slides against the floor, he moves out of the way, toward the automatic doors at the entrance.
I realize that if I stay in line and check out, the tepig has a chance to escape. I don't know where he's going, so hunting him down afterward isn't an option. I call after him, and he stops to look at me as if I'm crazy.
“Uh, hi,” I say. Why do the meetings with my pokémon always have to be so awkward? “You dropped something.” I give him the catnip and vow to pay for it as soon as I can. I can't forgive myself if the first thing I do with the tepig is let him steal food, even if it is for a good cause.
“Oh,” he says, a perturbed expression on his face. “I don't know who ordered that, but they're weird. Thanks.”
“Ordered?” I motion toward the counter. “This isn't a restaurant.”
The tepig sneers at me. “You must be new to town.”
I had only been making myself look stupid to egg him on, but giving me the benefit of the doubt was nice. “Well, you could say that...” I say.
He gives me a once over. “Are you a trainer?” he asks.
“Is it that obvious?” I reply, covering the pokéballs on my belt like it's no big deal.
Confused, he says, “Not at all. It was a lucky guess, if anything.”
I shake my head. “You don't just get something like that right on the first try,” I say. I imagine I'm attracting attention from the crowd with my loudness, but I'm struck by the tepig's seriousness. Given my age, he should have suspected me to be a mere foreigner or a tourist before a trainer.
“Well, I just got it right, didn't I?”
“Are you part psychic-type? I bet you are,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and leaning in to hear his answer.
This seems to strike a chord. “No,” he says, lowering his head. “I'm a fire-type. And when I evolve someday, I'll be part fighting-type.”
A fire-type! Kephi's scared to death of going near the heat and Virokoe acts like a single scorch mark is the end of the world. I, on the other hand, am willing to risk alighting a few loose strands of hair if it means I can be warm at night. I'm no good at setting up camp; the flames die before half the night has passed. Hopefully my days of creating fires in the most absurd ways are over. That is, if I can get him to come with me.
But of course, he plans on evolving someday, unlike my other pokémon. I can tell by the seriousness in his voice. I can work out that kink later on.
“Dojo-like fighting-type? Or the fighting-type that kind of just throws out insults at everyone?” I ask.
“Yeah...” he says, trailing off. “I'm leaving now. It was nice meeting you, or whatever.”
He escapes and leaves me in the dust all at once. I'm torn between not being able to locate the tepig or losing the two pokémon I already have. I pace back and forth, confused as I've ever been, like I'm in a coma again. No one ever teaches you how you think for yourself in school, and my parents were wary of helping me make important life decisions. Thanks for nothing, guys. I'll count on Arceus for this one, and I can't even tell you what the creature looks like.
“Sir,” I say, rushing the counter, “please take care of my purrloin and my venipede. I just remembered something important I need to do. Don't let them leave, and if they try, lock them up or something. Boxes are okay. Chains are not. Oh, and here's one hundred pokédollars for catnip.” At this point, I'm thinking
I'll be the weird one who orders catnip and eats it, if it means being in the tepig's world.
I chase after him.
It's difficult to pick him out of a crowd. Oreburgh City is bustling with people I know are tourists judging by how they're going north one second, south the next. The cobbled street is hard below my feet, reminding me that I need to invest in some better boots. When I come to a crossroad—my first
literal crossroad—my eyes scan the sign in front of me. I head left without comprehending what I read.
The road to the mines, at least, is near deserted. There's the tepig, me and another man, short and wearing a red construction hat and a coal-colored outfit to match. The man guards the entrance to the mines, holding a shovel in his hand like he's uncomfortable with the object, yet it's a necessity. Never mind him, though. The little orange pig—I'll name him soon—is my goal.
I slow my walk to a near halt to make myself look casual. I wave to the man and he smiles back, but it's not a happy smile. Another necessity he's destined to fulfill. Arceus has no greater plans for him, at least not for today.
After I pass him, I jog over to the tepig, who seems eager to reach his nearby destination. He's humming to himself and wiggling his behind back and forth to his own designated rhythm. The boxes on his back sway back and forth with him. There's my excuse. I yell for him to be careful.
“You again?” he says, stopping. “Hmm.”
“You bet! With me being a trainer and all, I have to see what kind of pokémon are here.” The tepig glowers at me. He's offended by my statement, and I can't tell why. “I mean... I bet there are lots of rock-types, steel-types... Right?”
“No.”
“Water-types?” My grin fades. I should probably just leave if a golduck is here.
“No.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “More fire-types?”
“Soon.”
“You're the most cryptic tepig I know.” Granted, he's the only tepig I know, but I'm not about to admit that and demean his species like I already have.
“And fighting-types too,” he says. Ah, right. He mentioned his evolution line being part fighting-type. Does that mean he's close to evolving? If so, I need to intervene sooner rather than later. “I'm one of the last remaining pokémon in the mines,” he adds, and that changes everything.
His tone scares me, but I can't back down now. “I didn't know,” I say. “I'm sorry.”
“You really
are new to Oreburgh. But don't you read the news? Watch television?”
“...I watch movies.”
He sighs. “Not good enough. Anyway, it happened about a month ago.” I expect him to keep going, but he doesn't. He keeps plodding along to wherever, and to whomever remains. I motion for him to continue. “Sorry. I'm thinking.”
“Oh... Go ahead,” I say. Finally, I have a pokémon that thinks things through before talking. I wonder how Kephi and Virokoe are reacting to my absence. I could see them throwing a party. If I brought the tepig along, we'd ruin the fun, and not just because of his stoic attitude.
“Well, I'll tell you how the city used to be. Since you're not the brightest and all.”
“Fair enough,” I said, not taking the insult to heart.
“I'm sure you haven't noticed, but there are vents all over town. The vents allow steam to escape and fresh air to enter the mines. This clears the mines of any poison gas, which is, historically speaking, the bane of coal miners. We take care of the mines as best we can to protect everyone.”
“I get it.” My best guess at this point is that poison wafted throughout the mines and killed several inhabitants.
“Regional professors shipped me over from Unova with a bunch of other tepig, along with some torchic from Hoenn. The professors selected us for our fire- and fighting-type combination. We were told we could work in the mines when we evolved. So I haven't been here long, but I've observed and shadowed former workers and formed bonds with them. ...Then I learned about a feral hippopotas living underground and causing trouble whenever possible.”
This isn't leading anywhere good, and to top it all off, the wreckage is becoming more obvious as we walk. There's crushed bulldozers lying on their sides, caked blood spots, piles and piles of rocks, and more. People roam about, trying to repair things, but their shoulders are slumped and their frowns obvious. They aren't energized or motivated at all.
I stop the tepig and tell him I'm going to sit down. “If you want to finish educating me, stay here,” I say. Whatever he's seen, it's been enough for one lifetime.
“Okay,” the tepig obliges. He sets down his food packages and plants himself away from me. “The hippopotas broke equipment, cost the town a ton of money and scared many workers away. Eventually it was asked to leave. As a result, it created a giant earthquake attack, which demolished the mines and trapped a lot of workers inside. We... weren't able to get to them in time. We prepare ourselves for revelations and breakthroughs, not accidents.”
“I don't think it was an accident.”
The tepig nods. “Anyway, after that, I lost my entire sense of purpose. What right did the hippopotas have to do that? What about my friends, my future? I... loathe ground-types and I loathe this earth for giving them so much land and prosperity. Someday I'm going to create an army of fire- and fighting-types and get my revenge on them.”
And there it is—the tepig's full backstory, and his crafted goal. He doesn't sound determined, but I know that a flat, slow tone of voice is indicative of depression and sluggish thoughts.
“What will that accomplish?” I ask him.
He sighs. “It gives me something else to do. And this time, it'll feel
so good when it's all over.”
It's clear to me that the tepig isn't satisfied where he is. I look around again, taking in the scenery, or lack thereof. Blood, hopelessness and remnants of the past surround us. That's about all I can take, so I glance in his direction without making it seem like I'm waiting for him to say more.
On one hand, the tepig could be happy here. Rebuilding his home can act as positive reinforcement for decent behavior and contentment. There's a future inside the mines, sure. But that doesn't guarantee it will be a pleasant one, especially if the workers can't fathom a reason to regain what was lost. So if not, what happens? Without a sense of purpose, he might act out his plans. He could become more violent and desperate for revenge. He could shut himself away from the world, become pessimistic (more than he already is), or never come up with a long term goal again. Is this something I want to deal with?
It is.
“Hey,” I say, smiling. “Do you really want to stay here?” That's something I have to hear from him. Even with my inner monologue ramblings, my thoughts are aimless without a confirmation from him.
“What kind of question is that?” he says. “I have to.”
I shake my head. “No, no. That's not what I asked.”
“...Oh.”
“Having to be here is your duty. It's an obligation. What you want is different. When you think about what you want, the ideas come to you in fits of passion. You feel happy, or feel that you might be happy, under the right circumstances.”
The tepig doesn't answer. He fumbles through the packages of food, opening them and then closing them again. If he had fingers I imagine he'd be counting and distributing rations. He's using this rouse to disguise his thinking process, or he's feeling guilty about not getting the food to the others on time. I'm not about to interrupt him either way. I walk away to give him some space.
I whistle because, wow, am I ever
bored. The view isn't appealing, and I don't want to help lest I screw something up. Arceus knows I'd make the mines collapse again. I miss Kephi's comebacks and Virokoe's perkiness. When we're a team, they can fill in each other's silences. Virokoe will rant while Kephi battles, and the tepig will come up with elaborate stories and strategies. And so on. There won't be any time to relax.
After about an hour of wandering, I look at the tepig expectantly. He lowers his head in shame. He hasn't come to any sort of revelation. Why had I expected him to alter his whole life based on a short lecture given by a stranger? He walks past me, delivers the food and gets right down to work. He's powerful, and I can tell he prides himself in his strength. His back can carry long slabs of metal from one side of the mines to the other, making the boxes he had carried before look like nothing.
I have a feeling that Kyurem is somewhere, watching with signs of disapproval etched onto its face. I don't like the image, so I turn my head from side to side, trying to track down the tepig again. I find him near the man with the red helmet. He looks like he's faring better than before.
I walk up to the two of them and offer a smile. “Hi, Tepig!” I say, waving. “Who's your friend?”
“...He's not my friend,” he says. “This is Roark. He's the city's gym leader.”
So this is a man who's lost a lot in a short amount of time. No wonder he looked forlorn earlier. I reach out my hand and he shakes it, saying, “It's nice to meet you, ma'am...”
“Annie Willems,” I say. “I'll be challenging your gym at one point. My pokémon insists on it.”
“The pokémon controls the trainer? That's a new one,” he says.
I shrug my shoulders. “I just want to see the sights. We're not the greatest match. And that's quite the understatement.” I've never met a gym leader before. Are they supposed to guide new trainers in the right direction? Well, Roark doesn't tell me to release Kephi for both our sakes, so I guess he's not interested in being a role model today. “Anyway, Tepig, can I come by tomorrow?” I ask, bending down to see him face-to-face. “I'd like to talk to you more.”
“Nobody
talks in this city. You get work done.”
“This little guy is one of the most dedicated pokémon I've ever seen,” Roark agrees.
The tepig just scowls.
“Well...” I say, my eyes scanning the two of them. “I'll help you out tomorrow, all right? I'll bring along helpers.” The words leave a foul taste in my mouth. Virokoe, working outside the spotlight? The image is laughable. And Kephi would do more harm than good.
The tepig seems skeptical, but agrees. I say goodbye. I can't believe I'm letting him go and risking never seeing him again. A lot can happen in a day.
*
I'm pleased to see that the clerk took my request to heart. My pokémon behave by sitting on the conveyor belt and handing the clerk the next item to be scanned, then priced. It's the first act of teamwork I've seen them do. I go up to them, and they stare at me, perplexed by the idea of me returning at all.
“I'm sorry!” I say, out of breath. “I needed to run a few errands.”
Virokoe harrumphs, and Kephi's eyes are as dull as ever. The clerk informs me that I owe a fee of five hundred pokédollars to pay for the damage done to one of the display cases. Virokoe had knocked over a tower of soup cans to gather a crowd.
“Your purrloin didn't even help clean up,” the clerk says, “but he did make up for it, so...” At least he's good-natured about it.
I apologize for the inconvenience, pay him and get out of there before my pokémon can cause more trouble. Virokoe seems eager to move on to the next part of the city and is disappointed when I lead the team back to the Pokémon Center. We take the elevator to the second floor and enter our room. I lock the door behind me and ask why they had to go and be so naughty.
“We were good. We didn't battle,” Kephi says. “Can't do that without a trainer around.”
“Suck up,” I say, not having the energy to argue with him.
“If I wanted to suck up, I would have fought and gotten some reward money to pay for my teammate's insolence.”
“What did you just say?” Virokoe says, scowling at the bug-type.
I'm glad to be around my pokémon again. There's something about their bickering that makes me forget my own problems. “Yeah, Kephi,” I say, crossing my arms, “what did you say?”
“You're a great trainer. Might you buy me some of my own catnip next time?” he says. He goes over to the side of the bed and struggles to attach himself to the sheets hanging off the edge.
I sit down and pick him up. He's heavier than usual. Then I cover my face in shame when I realize the implication of his question. “Dear Mew,” I say. “I forgot to get you something.”
“Damn right you did,” Kephi snarls. “My intestines are twisting themselves in an attempt to find the tiniest scrap of food.”
“Catnip in the bowl, please!” Virokoe cries.
I look at the clock. It's not even time for his dinner. He just wants to torture Kephi. I point this out and add, “We can eat the leftovers from our party last night.”
“Sure!” Kephi says, feigning enthusiasm. “Caramel apple sticks and butterscotch candy wrappers make for delicious meals.”
I smile without trying. “Oh, Kephi. If only you knew how adorable you are.”
Kephi had been crawling toward the pillows, but he stops. “Fetch me a
fucking burger. Now.”
“All right,” I say, motioning toward the television. “I'll make it up to you. But if you're gonna swear like that, I'm gonna make you watch television.”
“The horror of it all.”
My venipede already has an odd vendetta against the television, but I know a way to make him madder. I pick up the remote and flip through the channels until I see a man standing in front of a map of the Sinnoh region. He's holding a microphone and spewing out facts about the weather. “You can watch the news,” I say, placing the remote on top of the stand. “No amount of slime can help you this time.”
My venipede gapes at me, as if wondering how I, his trainer, could be so rude. I shrug my shoulders at him, thinking it could be worse. I could wake him in the middle of the night just to rile him up with promises of a gym battle. On second thought, it's not a bad idea. I smile to myself as I close the door.
I make my way downstairs. The Pokémon Center is such a blessing. If they didn't exist, I'd have to make another trip to the store, buy something cheap, and
then find an oven or a microwave. Kephi wouldn't be able to stand the waiting time.
The lobby is full, yet empty. Trainers roam back and forth, worrying about their hurt pokémon. There's nothing to distract them because the walls are bare. The walls have no paintings, no maps, no educational posters designed to help the newbies. There's a couch or two, but that's hardly comforting. The mess hall is a trainer's only solace right about now. I head in there, not daring to look at the Nurse Joy on duty. She's not the same nurse I talked to about Kephi's operation, but the conversation's been weighing on my mind. How could I have been so foolish and selfish? Kephi would throw his morals out the window and kill me if he found out.
The least I can do is get him some food. It's seven o'clock, and so the selection is scarce. I build him a grilled chicken sandwich just the way he likes it, with ranch, pickles, three strips of bacon and extra onions. The person behind me in line taps his foot and checks his watch before sighing. I glare at him and make an angus steak burger for myself, though I don't know what I want on it and so it takes twice as long.
Satisfied, I head back to the room, and am half-surprised when I see the two of them haven't moved from their designated spots on the bed. My pokémon, well-behaved for the second time in one day, are immersed in whatever the news reporter is saying. I have to wave Kephi's plate in front of him before he takes notice of me.
“Come on! Just put it on the table,” Kephi says.
“Yeah, because you care about ranch getting on the sheets,” I say, testing my purrloin by waving my own burger in his face too.
And then I hear it.
“...
Sinnoh region may be in danger...”
“Huh?” I say instantly, as if the television had addressed me by name. So now, not only am I in danger, but the whole region is as well? “That's got to be a joke...”
It isn't.
My eyes follow the movement of the weather chart first. Blotches of red, orange and yellow cover the screen. If this is accurate, there will be massive ice accumulation all over Sinnoh. But news reporters are notorious for being wrong on a day-to-day basis... I listen as the news reporter goes on.
“
The weather in Snowpoint City predicts a winter filled with category five ice storms. The city is experiencing strong winds, which have caused trees to block trainer routes. Power lines have fallen as well. Should this continue, temperatures will drop and outages can occur. We ask everyone not to underestimate what's to come and to prepare to stay inside when November comes...”
I hit the power button on the remote as fast as I can, but it's too late. Kephi and Virokoe now have new expectations for this journey, and they're stuck with a trainer who's at the heart of the whole mess. A trainer who's in over her head and doesn't know what to do about it.
“Well, then,” I say, clasping my hands together. “Eat up. We'll do something fun after.”
“Your idea of fun is pathetic,” Kephi says. “Don't try to deny it.”
“Okay. I won't.”
Kephi raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. Clearly he had been asking for some sort of sassy response, but I have none. I'm trying not to shake as it is. I should have taken lessons from the tepig about how to take a stand for myself in lieu of others.
Tepig...
I had been so confident before the news. I have a name prepared for him already. I don't dare think it or say it aloud, in case he refuses to join my team. If he refuses, which I have accepted is a possibility, then a catastrophe will occur.
I just have to do my best. That's all anyone ever asks for, right?
...No one cares about what others want. You can search and search the deepest crevices of your mind for some semblance of humanity, but you won't find any. For my sake, I want to succeed. As most people would believe, failure is not an option.
“Hey, guys?” I say, turning from my team to face the mirror hanging on the hotel door. My hair needs a good brushing and my eyes are frantic. My clothes are streaked with dirt.
Virokoe looks up, his fur tidy. He's the exact opposite of me, composed and reassured. “What? You have something to say to me?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say. “You're wonderful.”
“Tell me something I don't know.”
“I mean it.”
Virokoe blinks.
“Holy
shit. Spit it out already,” Kephi says, but not without a roll of the eyes.
“I have someone I want you to meet,” is all I say. Soon we're out the door and heading to the mines, where the tepig had led me earlier. Somehow I know he'll still be there, working his tail off even though he doesn't have to. My pokémon ask me questions, but they don't register in my brain. I give them automatic answers and brush them off with halfhearted gestures.
I think about those ice storms. I think about what it means for me. For my pokémon and my family. For people I haven't met, but want to meet on the off chance they might amaze me. I'm generally an optimistic person, but not when it comes to immortality.
It hurts because I know more than others do. There's very few things that can cause such a winter disaster, after all. What about a legendary ice-type pokémon, for instance?
Kyurem...
I'm not surprised. For me, a storm is always coming.
*
“Oh, no,” Kephi says as soon as he spots the fire-type from afar. “No, no, no.”
“Kephi, I haven't said anything yet.” I sigh, exasperated. They had given up asking me questions about five minutes into our trip. They must not have been that interested, after all.
“You don't have to. I know exactly where you're going with this.”
“Uh...” I say, my voice trailing off. The tepig is the only one working now that it's night, so I suppose my goal is obvious. This is going about as well as I had expected.
“Are we going to a cleaner place?” Virokoe says as he stands on his tip-toes and makes minimum contact with the ground.
“Don't run off, or you're sleeping outside tonight,” I warn him.
The tepig calls over to us. “Is something wrong?” He's carrying three thick pieces of wood on his back, and he stops to talk to us as if the weight doesn't faze him at all. “Why are you guys arguing?” he asks.
I rub the back of my head, embarrassed. “Aren't you going to ask why I'm here?”
“No. I already know that you have a strange habit of stalking others.”
“...What?”
Kephi bursts out into laughter and says, “On second thought, this guy might not be so bad...”
“He's terrible!” Virokoe cries, going up to the tepig and inspecting him. “His eyes are an ugly shade of brown, which doesn't match his orange fur.”
The tepig's expression hardens. He moves his back so that a piece of wood touches a patch of Virokoe's cream-colored fur, causing him to flinch. “And your fur is the color of a pearl, which only bothers to be beautiful in order to hide the bits of dirt at its core,” he says.
It's been five minutes and already both of my pokémon want to beat up the tepig, albeit for separate reasons. Virokoe's about to pounce. I recall him to his pokéball, but not before the tepig drops the pieces of wood.
“Nothing to be afraid of,” I say, waving the pokéball around. “He's gone.”
“I wasn't scared. I was preparing to fight.”
Oh, boy. I can picture another golduck scandal happening, this time with a fire-, fighting- or ground-type pokémon. Gregory was right when he said I had a knack for picking up the least tame pokémon types. I'd call him and ask him to soothe the tepig, but I can't count on him for everything. Then again, it might not be so bad, considering the biggest threat is yet to come.
“Well, anyway...” I bend down to see the two pokémon. I pet Kephi between his antennae, hoping he likes it. “Kephi, you're right. I want the tepig on our team.”
The tepig's face twists into something indecipherable. “I didn't know this,” he says.
“We don't need you,” Kephi says, pulling away from my touch. Now that my intentions have been confirmed, he's irritated. “Move along,
asshole.”
“Well, I should have known better. Why else does a trainer pursue a pokémon like me? Hmm...”
“Don't flatter yourself, kid.”
“Kephi...” I say in an even tone. I'm about to return him to his pokéball, but then I risk losing all his trust. That is assuming, of course, that I have any of his trust at all. Virokoe doesn't mind his pokéball, but Kephi...
The tepig continues talking to himself as he says, “This girl
did ask me to think about what I want...” My eyes widen. So he had been listening to me! Now if only I could get him to tell me what he wants. I nod to him, encouraging him to go on. “You know that Roark guy? The gym leader?”
I feel Kephi's body tense up with excitement. “What about him?” he asks. “We're gonna kick his sorry
ass into the ground.”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
“You didn't seem to like him when we talked,” I agreed.
“Look, he tries hard, but he doesn't try hard when it counts. He never helped my friends,” he says. “He let them die.”
“I'm sorry—”
“No,
he should be sorry. He's trying to rebuild the mines, but...”
“It doesn't bring back the dead.”
“Right.”
I appreciate the tepig's tolerance for bluntness. He's gonna need it if he's around Virokoe and Kephi. I can't help but sigh, however, because I know where this is going. Kephi isn't going to like it.
“So, what you want is for us to beat the gym leader,” I say.
“Yeah. He needs a reality check. He's the first gym in the circuit, but he makes it hard to get by,” the tepig explains.
“Do you... want to fight on our team?” I say, but I know I'm pushing my luck.
“I've tried to beat him. I'm not strong enough because of the type disadvantage, and no one wants to join an army with a lowly tepig as a leader. That's why I want to evolve...”
“We don't want to force that,” I say, interrupting him. “We'll take care of it. And if we do?”
“I'll think about joining your team.”
“No guarantees?”
“No guarantees.”
“Now wait a
fucking minute,” Kephi says. He must be confused, not knowing the tepig's story, but something tells me he wouldn't care if he knew. “I'm beating the gym for myself, not for
you. If you so much as interfere with my battle, I'll fill this whole goddamn town with poison gas. We'll see if
that helps you grow a spine.”
The tepig's response is quick. “So you're a pokémon with no respect for others, least of all yourself. How charming.”
“What the
fuck is that supposed to mean?” Kephi snarls, scuttling forward in a menacing manner.
“Kephi, don't make me do this,” I say, holding up his friend ball. I could release him after, hoping he'll be tamed if he's recalled. The ball isn't so powerful that it can erase every bit of animosity inside him, though.
“Is that your quick fix for everything?” he asks, not bothering to look at me. “Someday you're not gonna be able to do that
shit and you're gonna feel like you're in hell once I'm done with you.”
“Just calm down, and I won't have to do it.”
“I
am calm!”
“Doesn't seem like it,” the tepig chimes in.
“You think you're better than me just because you're a fire-type?”
“Well, the element of fire is certainly better than what you can do...”
Kephi, with all his anger and the insults that follow, has no argument for that. Even he can't overcome a type disadvantage like that. Even if he has the power of poison at his disposal, there's very little that can put out a raging fire. The tepig's just happened to run into one of the few things that can beat him. That obstacle's name is Roark.
“So it's settled then,” I say happily, but inside I feel lazy and drained. “We'll fight Roark tomorrow. We'll do our best for you, won't we, Kephi?”
“Whatever.”
I go over to the tepig and whisper in his ear, “How'd you do that? He totally gave in to you.”
The tepig shrugs. “Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day.
Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life.”
“Don't set Kephi on fire, please.” I stand up and tell him I'll be back tomorrow. “For real this time,” I add.
“...See you then.”
*
That night, I can't sleep. How can I get any rest with the ice storms lurking in the shadows?
Kephi's curled up on a pillow. Even his snores sound angry. Virokoe's sprawled out over half the bed, and I only wish it was his kicking that kept me awake.
I leave and go back to the mines. There's no tepig to be found. I traipse through the area, surveying the damage once more. I ignore the sharp cracks of concrete below me, which are only made pleasant by the occasional blade of grass peeking through. I bend down and pick up one of the blades, rubbing it around in my palms until it disintegrates. It certainly feels real enough. As if I'd been doubting its existence at all. Because if the mines hadn't experienced that catastrophe, this little bit of the external world wouldn't have had a chance to grow.
Sometimes I think Kephi isn't real, or Virokoe, and soon, I suspect the tepig will join that solid abyss I've created for them. They're extensions of my world meant to teach me a lesson for being an impulsive, irrational girl traveling on some fake path to self-righteousness. I'm not cut out to be a therapist. I don't think people can change, not completely. I might care about Kephi, but I can't imagine him staying in my life once he's cured. I use the term “cured” loosely, since most psychological issues can only go into remission. Kephi will always wonder whether to kill in the heat of the moment. Virokoe and the tepig won't be any different.
When I think too much about things like this, I wish evidence proved Arceus's existence. It'd be nice if Arceus existed, though if He did exist, someone might have stolen His powers by now. I'm not a thief, but
I would have stolen His powers by now. Then this journey would have ended days before it began. I would have warped to Kyurem's ice cavern and destroyed it without a hint of remorse. I'd be healthy, not tied down by death.
Again, I miss Sandgem Town. I miss Renee, my mother and father. I can't say I know why. Renee is sweet, but she brings me down. She knows what she wants, but has no drive. My mother and father became detached a long time ago, when they realized I was fragile. They became scared. They wanted me to live a life with no regrets so much, they kept their mouths shut even when I begged them to help me.
My breath hitches. Oreburgh City isn't the place for me. It's too industrialized. The air is thick and smells of smoke. Floaroma Town would have been a better choice. It always feels like spring there; no ice can be seen for hundreds of miles. There would be newborn bacterium in the soil. That bacterium would naturally release serotonin, which can elevate moods and decrease anxiety. I'd dig in, get my hands dirty. I'd make Kephi and Virokoe roll around in the hole. They'd feel a sort of euphoria they could find just about anywhere, if only they had been looking.
I look down. I imagine the tepig standing at my side. He knows, and I know, that the concrete could break apart even more. There won't be enough grass to act as a cushion. I can't say for sure what would happen then, but I have a hunch.
I'm not afraid of falling.
