EonMaster One
saeculum harmonia
Chapter 79-1
Middle-of-the-road rock played in the background of the Emerald Village’s most popular restaurant. It seemed on this, the night before what many were touting as the “biggest match in a century,” everyone who could afford it was at the Sapphire Star. These people included all sorts – many of them were families with children, here to celebrate the final night of the Tournament. Of course, anybody that knew tradition knew that there was an after-party the night following the final match. They also knew that, unless they knew the new Champion or one of the current Elite Four members or Gym Leaders, they had no shot of getting in. So most were satisfied to enjoy the food and the atmosphere here at the restaurant. Both were catered by the same chef – a man that had been at his career for years and knew to pull out all the stops on this particular night, when anyone from common spectators to the King himself was liable to show up.
The chef – an aging, man with salt-and-pepper hair who was surprisingly lanky for one who had worked around food all his life, gazed out from the bar, waving in a couple of random directions to make sure none of his greeters thought he was blowing them off. He scanned the area for any sign of a larger concentration of soldiers – that would mean that the King or one of the other important generals was present. The King was obviously not there. Even if he had taken to wearing commoners’ clothes, he had a very particular eye color that would have been very difficult not to notice. The chef’s eyes, however, did glimpse a pair sitting relatively at the edge of all the action. The man had hair that was the darkest black, coupled with milk chocolate skin of the smoothest complexion. That was obviously Lord Rashid al-Zevi, one of the Three Generals. But who was that young lady with him? She had short, curly, white-blond hair that seemed to be the very antithesis to his. Her skin tone was a very similar brown, but he was sure that was merely a coincidence. Rashid was the late Lord Roald’s only child, after all…
Rashid was telling the woman something. She looked down at the table. The chef saw her body shudder. Was she crying? Rashid reached over the table and put a hand on her shoulder. He was wearing a very serious face (as he normally did), but the chef noticed what might have been the most subtle tint of red. The young woman looked up, seemingly surprised, and stared at him for a moment. The faces of the two met over the center of the small table, lips locked in a kiss…
At that moment a clamor of sorts erupted in a corner of the restaurant. Striding across the bar (“Sorry,” he muttered as he nearly knocked over one of his waitresses) he peered out to see what was going on. The attention seemed to be centered around another couple, much younger this time. They were only teenagers, in fact. The boy had curly, brown hair and, were it not for the slightly tanned complexion, didn’t seem like he would stand out much in a crowd. The boy looked slightly harried by the closing crowd. Many of them were pre-teen children, younger than rookie-age, holding various objects out for him to sign. The chef shook his head. He felt sorry for the boy in a way. He was clearly uncomfortable with all of this attention, and he wasn’t even Champion yet. In fact, the chef, in nearly twenty years of operating the Sapphire Star, didn’t remember a finals competitor ever getting this much attention. After all, in previous years, the finals winner was of little matter unless he could meet and beat the current Champion. But this year was special – the tournament winner was the new Champion…and obviously, there were hundreds of young children that knew that. After about three or four minutes of the boy grudgingly signing various objects, the girl that was sitting across from him, her shiny, black hair tied in a complex bun-and-braids combo, turned politely to the children and said something to them. Many of them left disappointed, with the exception of one little girl, who said something to her that caused her to turn a brilliant red. The little girl walked off…
Another mild ruckus started near the door. The chef grimaced. He figured that would be the other competitor. He was wrong. Walking in was not a teenager (or two), but a rather large, suit-wearing individual whose very presence caused the approaching crowd to back off a bit. A young man who must have been in his early twenties walked in, laughing a bit as he put his hand on the large bruiser’s shoulder. He turned and looked back to see a handful of other guys walking in. They looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. A couple of them had hairstyles that weren’t what one would call ‘normal’. The chef looked away, hoping in the back of his head that these guys weren’t here to cause trouble.
The young man in the front looked around, his windswept-looking bleach-blond hair covering one of his eyes very slightly.
“Aww, man…” the guy stopped walking as one of his friends, sporting a similar-color fauxhawk, walked past him, hands behind his head. “Dude, the ambiance in here is lame. Where’s the DJ?”
“Don’t gripe, Blake,” the first young man sighed. “This is supposed to be the second best restaurant in the country.”
“Clearly, there’s a party going on in here tonight,” Blake replied. “So why does the music sound like we’re smack-dab in the middle of a chick flick?”
He looked around.
“Is there a stage somewhere? You, me, and Ax could come back with our acoustics and play some tunes.”
“We’re taking a day off,” a third man, sporting wavy, dark red hair, between a trilby and two pierced ears, said. “I’m here to eat, not steal anybody’s thunder. But Blake here does have a point, Trace. The music isn’t the best.”
The blond-haired man turned around again. “Yeah, I know…I might nudge the DJ later, but we’ve gotta find a table first. See one?”
“For seven people?” Blake uttered, turning around. “Good luck. Our best shot’s finding two tables, and I don’t think that’s happening, either.”
“It’s a total zoo in here,” the hat-wearing man known as ‘Ax’ commented. “Maybe we should find another restaurant.”
“Nope,” Tracy Robblee said with a smile. Walking off to find a table, he added, “This is the place to be tonight.”
Another young man from the back approached the others, his dark, black hair and lack of height distinguishing him. “Does Robbie get a high off being around lots of people? You guys know him better than I do, so…”
Ax sighed. “You’re probably right, Jed. Don’t get me wrong, I like being around people, too – whether or not they know who we actually are…but I just want to eat sometime today.”
“It’s all part of being a rock star, kid,” Blake slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Guys – guys,” Tracy came running back, looking over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna believe who I just saw.”
“Is the King here?” the young man known as ‘Ax’ tried looking over his shoulder.
“That’s a negative,” Tracy answered. “But I saw someone I think you’ll recognize – two people, actually.”
He turned and pointed at a specific table. A black-haired boy and a blond-haired girl were sitting there.
“Isn’t that the kid that you signed the guitar for a few days back?” Blake asked.
“I’m pretty sure that’s him,” Ax replied. “Hard to make out in this light, though…”
“That’s definitely the same guy,” Tracy commented. “Did you see who he was with, though?”
“Who, the blonde?” Jeddah, the youngest member of the group, looked around the others. “There are a lot of blonde girls. What’s your point?”
“That’s the girl that sang the anthem at the beginning of the Tournament,” Tracy replied. With a knowing smirk, he said, “You know…the one that had you and Ax crying like babies?”
“Her?” Jeddah uttered.
“And I was not crying, for the record,” Ax retorted sharply. “Okay, I was, but not for that reason. I got juice from a hot pepper in my right eye. Long story.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Blake muttered. Ax rolled his eyes.
“You wanna go over and talk to them?” Tracy asked.
“Uh…what?” Jeddah uttered.
“All of us?” Blake asked, mirroring the expressions of the two men that hadn’t yet spoken. “That’d probably scare the crap out of them, wouldn’t it?”
“That was the guy that let his Umbreon loose near our trailer just so he’d have a legit excuse to sneak back there,” Tracy commented. “I don’t think he spooks easily.”
“You enjoying the food?” Nate Elm looked up. Avril was looking across the table, smiling at him.
“It’s good,” he commented. “The view’s even better, though.”
This comment left Avril turning a bright red and Nate wondering where the hell it had come from. He wasn’t trying to be perverted – but the fact that he had said the comment while looking at her in the same strapless dress she wore at the beginning of the Tournament didn’t help her case.
“I don’t mean – that is – you’re beautiful,” Nate added, looking away from her uncomfortably. Avril frowned.
“It was a lot better when you left it,” she remarked sadly.
“Damn it,” Nate muttered. “I’ve been hanging around Shiro too much…”
“It’s a nice change of pace,” Avril said. “You’re so quiet and mysterious all the time.”
“I thought you liked that I wasn’t a huge flirt,” Nate replied, bewildered. “I don’t want anybody to start thinking that I only care about how you look.”
“Don’t worry,” she answered. “I know you care about more than just my body. But you don’t mind it, do you?”
“O-of course not,” Nate stammered, very careful to look her in the eyes. “Like I said…you’re beautiful.”
Avril giggled, as Nate went back to his food. “You’re still so awkward around me, like we’re meeting for the first time. It’s cute.”
“We interrupting anything?” Nate jumped, and then grimaced. He had hit his knee on the bottom of the table. Avril had another laugh at his expense. He turned to his left and did a double-take sort of blink, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Avril, looking to her right and recognizing the group of young men, gasped.
“You’re…” she started.
The guy with the lank, blond hair did an urgent throat-clearing noise while shaking his head. “We’re nobody important. Just a bunch of hungry guys looking for food…that just happen to be in a rock band, but that’s beside the point. You…”
He was looking straight at Avril.
“…were amazing the other night,” he finished.
Leaving this statement open to interpretations could have resulted in a couple that were very unfortunate. The blond seemed to realize this after about a half second, so he amended his statement. “On the anthem, I mean. Where’d you learn to sing like that?”
Avril looked very nervous. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered uncomfortably. “I just…do it, I guess.”
“Raw talent, huh? Impressive,” he replied. “What’s your name?”
“Avril,” she answered. “Avril Pennington.”
“Nice…I’m –” he started, but Avril cut her off.
“Tracy Robblee,” she replied for him. Going down the line with each of the young men, she said, “And you’re Blake Shaw (she looked at the young man with the fauxhawk), Adam Chaplin (she looked at Ax), Victor, Danny, and…Jeddah North, right?”
“Wow, she got all of us,” Tracy laughed. “So you two here for something special?”
“His birthday,” Avril answered. Tracy’s eyes turned toward Nate, who was being his usual laconic self.
“He turns sixteen today.”
“Sixteen?” Tracy asked in a ‘that’s-it?’ kind of tone. “I could have sworn you were both older than that.”
“I get that a lot,” Nate finally said.
“Well, you’ve got very good taste,” Tracy commented. “Or you’re amazingly lucky. My first girlfriend was…”
He shook his head and let out a snicker.
“In any case, it’s really nice meeting both of you. See ya later,” Tracy said, turning around. Assorted goodbyes from the rest of the band echoed his as they all walked away.
“Wow…that was…random,” Nate commented. Avril was grinning and trying to hide it.
“Wish we could have gotten a picture or something. Tai wouldn’t believe us if we told him,” she said.
“He’ll believe us,” Nate said with a strange confidence. “Hey…isn’t that…”
Avril turned around. Another teenage couple was walking into the restaurant. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, open, over a black t-shirt with a grainy yellow taxi logo, and jeans. He and his pink-haired girlfriend were coming toward the center of the restaurant just as the six band members and their large security guy were leaving. The blond in the front waved at the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. The girl did a double-take and said something to him. He looked down at his t-shirt and then at the back of the band’s security detail, who was the last to leave.
“How many outfits did he pack?” Nate muttered. “There’s no way he had that shirt when we got here.”
“Katrina…” Avril said, staring at the other girl as she greeted a couple of people who apparently noticed her and the boy. “She just looks so beautiful without trying, doesn’t she?”
“Erm…” Nate didn’t think that there was a right answer for this question. He wasn’t about to call another girl ‘beautiful’ in front of his girlfriend – but to say anything otherwise would have made him a liar, which was just as bad. She was wearing a white sash with her black dress, and had her long hair hanging against her right shoulder in a ponytail.
“You know…” Travis said as the two were being led to their table by their waitress (they were smart and reserved one beforehand). “For someone who wanted us to keep a low profile, you sure went out of your way to dress up.”
Katrina smiled coyly. “Well, I can’t come outside looking trashy. I’d make you look bad.”
Travis pulled her chair out for her and let her sit down. Normally, she hated that, but tonight, he noticed, she let it go. He eased into his own chair. He happened to look up. Avril’s fair blonde hair and green dress were not hard to miss, but she had her back turned to him and Travis was looking over her and Nate anyway. The boy that had caught his eye was at a distance, but he had obviously been watching them the entire time, as he was looking straight at him. He raised his hand in a slight wave. Travis responded in turn.
“Geez, I think everybody except the King is here,” Travis commented. “Matt and Mariah are over there, I see Avril and Nate…I thought Shiro and Madeline would show up, but I guess not…”
“They’re probably with Madeline’s family,” Katrina surmised. “Either that, or they found a corner and they’re making out somewhere…”
Travis raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Katrina uttered. “It’s what they do. They’ve been like that since they started going out…again. Madeline’s just clingy like that, and Shiro’s not going to be the one to complain about it.”
“Good point,” Travis said.
With a smile, Katrina commented. “Nate’s the polar opposite. Avril told me it’s still sort of a battle just to get him to kiss her in public. You can tell he loves her, but…that’s just his personality. He’s not really emotional.”
“I’ll just ask you because you’re going to tell me anyway,” Travis sighed. “How are Matt and Mariah doing?”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“Well…as far as I know, they haven’t been together very long,” he answered. “And then Matt got captured – of course, we didn’t know that at the time, we thought he was just dead and Mariah did, too…and now all of a sudden he’s back. Don’t you think that would make things kind of…never mind, I think they’re fine.”
“What makes you…oh,” Katrina said. According to what Mariah had said, Matt was affectionate, but perhaps not as much so as she wanted him to be at times. Katrina could sympathize. But, given Matt’s quiet demeanor, instead of coming off like a gentleman like Travis did, Matt tended to come off as aloof and distant. But damned if the two weren’t presently kissing right there in the middle of the restaurant. “Matt’s changed.”
“Well…**** happens,” Travis muttered. Katrina raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by Travis’ flippant use of language. (She hadn’t heard the conversation he was sort of referencing.) “And when it does, you get one of three things…it either kills you entirely, you become more twisted, or you change into a better person. There aren’t a whole lot of people our age that know that as well as we do…”
He suddenly became sullen for a moment.
“How did we even get this far?” he asked, head down toward the table. “Most of us should be dead by now – or worse.”
“Luck? Divine intervention? I have no idea,” Katrina said. “But…I’m glad for whatever it was.”
She offered up a smile. The two looked up just in time to see their food arrive.
After dinner was over, they walked back to the Pokémon Center together. The lobby and eatery were both relatively empty; it was already past nine at night, and anyone who wasn’t already in bed, it seemed, was out at the Emerald Village.
“You going to bed?” Katrina asked as they approached the staircase leading up to the lodgings.
“Not right now,” Travis replied simply.
“Too excited?” she asked.
“I guess you could say that,” he answered with a smile.
“Well…I’m tired,” she said. “And I want to be up early tomorrow. So…I guess this is good night. I really…enjoy being with you.”
Travis was confused. Weren’t they together nearly every single day? Hadn’t that been the case for nearly two full years now?
“I mean…” Katrina said. “That’s the first time in a while that we’ve gotten to go on a date like…”
“Normal people,” Travis finished, almost inaudibly.
Katrina bit her lip for a moment in the following silence. Her expression trembled. With a gasp, she fell upon him. He embraced her tightly, holding her and feeling her push gently against him as she drew in slow breaths.
“I really missed you,” she said, squeezing him tighter. “And now that I finally have you back…”
“Katrina…” Travis uttered – she shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s like asking me not to breathe,” he answered. “If something’s wrong, I want to know.”
“I’m okay,” she repeated. “I mean it. I’m just…tired, that’s all…”
She drew away from him, left him with a short smile, and walked up the stairs. Travis thought of chasing after her, but knew it would do no good; once she closed up like that, she would only talk on her own terms – so trying to pry anything out of her would be a waste of time. He sighed and turned around, making his way back toward the exit.
Fog clouded his senses as minutes of aimless meandering seemed to simply slip by unnoticed. He wandered around the Emerald Village for a while. He vaguely remembered waving at a few people. Some of them he knew, some of them he did not. Had he signed something? Taken a picture with someone?
The next thing he became aware of was the Coliseum’s entrance. He looked straight up at the front of the colossal building. A thought went through his head – where was everyone? There was obviously no match going on right now, but one would expect a place like this to be more guarded so that no one could just waltz in.
Maybe the guards were off partying, too.
Or maybe they were protecting the King, wherever he was. No doubt there may have been a seed or two of discord among the large crowd that had gathered at Evergrande; someone who might have wanted to force-feed King Elrik a length of steel. His protection was infinitely more important than some old building. Well, if no one was going to come and stop him…it was good for taking a walk with no distractions. He showed himself inside.
A refreshing kind of nighttime quiet filled the concourse’s vast hall. He could hear his own breaths, slow but steady. He could hear every step, the echoing sound of his feet making contact with the hard floor beneath him. More importantly, he could hear himself think, away from the static hum of the masses.
The life of a Champion…it alternated, he supposed, between moments of incessant noise and this kind of overwhelming, pressing silence.
Introvert, extrovert, it mattered not – at least one portion of one’s life would make him unhappy.
As for Travis, he alternated. He noticed, she noticed, and it seemed that his friends noticed as well. That was why no one had followed him here, was it not?
The cool breeze blew against him as he stepped from the shadow of the inner colonnade into the moonlight, the innards of the stadium itself. This place was majestic – it had an ancient quality about it, which was, he guessed, what the architects had in mind when they built it.
He made his way down the stairs, all the way to the first row on the center aisle. He could look straight ahead and see the Pokéball-model circle that marked the arena’s center.
He slipped into a chair and sat down, taking the time to process…everything.
He evaluated his situation.
The war was over. Elrik was on the throne and the Kingdom of Hoenn had begun to stabilize again.
Travis’ time as a Swordbearer was done. The swords were taken by their Creator, sealed away in the heavenly realms until such a time when they would be needed once more.
He and Katrina had gone through a near-breakup that had ended with him asking her to be his wife when the time came. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time…and yet, after the evening he gave her the ring, it had disappeared, never to be seen again.
And, of course, he was one match away from being Hoenn’s Pokémon League Champion.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?” a boy’s voice alerted him. Travis opened his eyes and looked out of their corners to his right. Sitting a few seats down from him was the one that would be his opponent in a matter of hours.
“What about you?” Travis asked. “Party’s in the village.”
“I’ve never been much for parties,” Matt admitted, a half-smile creasing his face.
There was a long silence between them.
“So…this is it, huh?” Matt finally commented. “If my count’s right, we’ve battled each other exactly four times since we started as rookies; we’ve each won one, and there were two draws.”
“Hmm,” Travis wasn’t going to argue with those numbers.
“For the record, I’m glad it went down like this,” he said. “If I’m going to fight a battle to be Champion, I want my heart to be in it.”
Travis looked at Matt with a bewildered expression.
“Becoming Champion means separating myself from everyone I care about,” the brown-haired boy said, his green eyes alight with reflections of the bright October moon. “Bee, Madeline, my dad, Mandi, Veronica...If I’m going to sacrifice that – and I’m still not sure I will…”
Travis’ jaws separated for a second. Was Matt saying that he didn’t want to be Champion at all?
“…I’d rather do it knowing I beat one of the greatest out there,” Matt finished seriously. “Modesty’s all well and good, but those are the facts. Anybody on the outside looking in would be a fool to say different, if you ask me. I wonder...no, I don’t…”
He looked up into the air.
“I know your granddad’s up there somewhere,” he declared. “And I know he’ll be watching you. And hopefully, my brother and sister…”
He clutched the charm hanging at his neck.
“If it weren’t for me,” Travis muttered. “They’d have better seats.”
“Stop it,” Matt was on his feet now. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what happened to them? I said before, it’s not...not anybody’s fault.”
He sat back down.
“If you’re moving forward and looking back, it’s damned hard to see where you’re going. You have to look ahead now.” Matt said. “You owe it to Katrina…unless I’m totally off and you don’t plan on marrying her one day.”
“I do,” Travis answered, ironically enough.
“That’s what I thought,” Matt said. “There were a lot of things you probably would do differently if you could go back – same goes for me. But then, we’d be completely different people. In any case, there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You can’t go back and change the past, right?”
“Right…” Travis muttered. Matt stood up.
“I’m going to call it a night,” he said. “You should too. If you can’t battle at your best tomorrow because you’re only running on a couple of hours’ sleep, I’ll be really ****** off.”
And he started up the stairs, leaving Travis to stare out at the battlefield.
Travis stared at the locker room door, which exited out into the entrance tunnel. He looked over his right shoulder and offered the scowling little girl a smile. She was standing up on the bench, and instead of returning his smile, she looked down sadly.
“You’ll keep your promise, right?” she asked.
Travis turned toward her.
“Sure, I will,” he answered. The girl put her arms around his neck. He hugged her back as she rested her head on his shoulder.
A man in the small crowd sighed after a while.
“Alright, Anhje, it’s almost time to go find our seats. Hurry up,” he said.
“Daddy,” she whined, burying her face in the boy’s shoulder again.
“It’s not like you won’t see him again. He promised you would,” Sander pleaded with her.
Anhje scowled, dropping her arms to her sides. “Okay. Bye, Travis.”
“Bye,” he responded, smiling at her warmly. She started back toward her father, walking down the bench. Then, without warning, she turned around, left her feet, and lunged at Travis again. Travis was definitely taken aback by the sudden weight of a small child hanging from around his neck, but he did a good job of holding her up as she hugged him again and pressed her face into his cheek, almost as if it had been something she had been holding in for days. He finally let her down, and she ran back over to her father, who picked her up and let her out of the room. With a grimace, Travis caught a glimpse of her face and noticed that it was already red and stained with tears.
Anhje’s and his mother’s facial expressions were matching.
“Oh, come on, honey, don’t act like that, you’re embarrassing him,” his father, holding Kylie, tried to explain calmly.
“I’m sorry…” Amy sniffled. “It’s just…I’m so proud of you…”
She swallowed her son into her arms, sobbing unabashedly. He looked over his mother’s shoulder at his dad, who was giving him an apologetic smile.
Once she had gotten it all out, he let her son go.
“Where are the others?” Travis’ father asked, looking around in confusion. “Thought they’d be here by now…”
As if on cue, a girl wearing a familiar-looking dress strode in.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked. “I made sure all of our seats were reserved, so…”
“Of course not,” T.J. answered. “Actually, we were headed that way right now…”
He seemed to be putting emphasis on the words. Whatever message he was trying to send, Amy got it, and started toward the door with him. Allowing his wife out first, he turned to him and said, “I’m proud of you, too. Hope you know that.”
Travis smiled. “Of course I do.”
And he let the door shut, leaving just him…
And her.
“You look amazing,” he said.
She offered a weak smile. “Now that we’ve been out on the town, everyone’s seen us together. I just thought I’d look nice in case they wanted to turn a camera my way for some reason…”
Her voice broke – not cracked – on the last few words.
“Katrina…”
She shook her head tearfully. “I should have brought a cheat sheet or something. Damn it…what am I supposed to say to you after…after…everything?”
Travis was taken aback for a moment. Truth be told, he didn’t know how to respond. So he tried to make a joke out of it – maybe he could get her to leave him with a smile before he went out. “‘I love you’ would have been okay.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she answered vehemently. “Not for me.”
There was a long, long silence. It was surreal, to be sure. But it was appropriate. She was absolutely right. What could possibly be said now?
Her fists were clenching and trembling a bit. In fact, her entire body was.
“I know you can do this,” she said, her teeth grit and a blazing look in her eyes. It was at that point that he noticed, faintly glimmering on her violently shaking right hand, a ring… “I know y—”
Her voice cut out on her in the middle of the sentence. She tried talking, but no more words would come. He put his arms around her.
“When I woke up in my own bed two years ago with half the bones in my body broken,” he said. “You could have gone anywhere. When I focused all my anger on you, just because you were the only one around, you didn’t just stay. You kept coming back – because you knew that if I didn’t hurt you, I’d try to hurt myself. Nobody reasonable could have asked you to do that. Nobody did ask you. But you did it anyway, because you knew how much I needed you. So I promise…no, I swear…I won’t let everything you did be for nothing.”
After a while, she spoke.
“It’s enough for me that you’re your old self again,” she finally said, in the faintest whisper.
“You deserve better than that. You deserve the world. But this is the best I can do…”
She looked up at him…and then smiled, bringing the hand with the ring up to her chest.
Travis finally had to say something. “You wore it today.”
“I did,” she answered.
She blushed and looked down, then back up. She leaned in to kiss him. He tasted a faint trace of fruit on her lips before she drew away.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked.
“Plan?” Travis uttered incredulously. “This is Matt we’re talking about. Of course I don’t have a plan.”
She laughed. “You’ve got a point. Still, I think you’ll be fine. Listen…”
She touched her forehead and her lips to his.
“I love you,” she said. “That won’t change if you win or lose. You don’t have to win for me. Do it for yourself, okay?”
“Sure,” Travis answered after a while.
“This is your dream. It’s been your dream since you were six years old,” she said. “And you had every reason in the world to give up, but you didn’t. Now, it’s time to go out there and get what you’ve worked so hard for.”
She kissed him again, and embraced him tightly.
“I’ll be behind you all the way,” she said, finally letting him go. He watched her leave for a moment.
“I know you will, Katrina,” he answered. She turned around. “I know you will.”
She smiled.
THUNK. THUNK.
“Room service!”
A knock and a raised voice made the girl inside the room jump. She had been lying back on her bed, looking up at the ceiling, dressed in her new halter top and jeans just because she didn’t feel like spending the entire day in her bedclothes.
The girl rolled her green eyes. “Come in, it’s unlocked.”
Once the person came in – a tall, red-haired boy – she sat bolt upright.
“Shiro, what the hell are you doing here?” she barked at him. Then, turning away from him and slumping back onto her pillow, she added, “I thought I told you to go on without me.”
“…You’re not going at all?” he asked. “Y-you’re kidding, right?”
“I didn’t think it’d be too much…but it is, Shiro. It is,” she said, staring out of the window with eyes that were now blurring with tears. She heard scraping and knew that Shiro had just pulled up a chair. “Travis against Matt…I don’t want Matt to lose – he’s my brother, I can’t not root for him to win – but if he does win, then I lose him again. And we just got him back. Veronica just met him. But if Travis loses…then everything he went through will be for nothing and I don’t know if I could watch that, either. I care so much about both of them…”
“…But not as much as about your own feelings being hurt,” was the boy’s response.
“What? That’s not fair,” she said. “I haven’t had a real family since I was ten years old, Shiro.”
“Well, what if Matt looks into the stands and sees that his own sister didn’t show up to watch the battle?” Shiro asked. “And Travis bent over backwards to make sure you were doing alright, even when I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“I just don’t…want to feel like I have to pick a side,” she answered. “Because, honestly, I don’t know which one to pick.”
“Then don’t pick one,” Shiro replied. The chair creaked as he rose from it and walked over to her bed, hovering over her. “That’s pretty simple, right? In any case, if you’re gonna decide, you’d better do it quick – the match starts in fifteen minutes.”
She sat up, appeared to contemplate her next move for several moments…and then stood.
“You’re probably right,” she finally answered.
“Wait…what?” Shiro hadn’t expected to hear that. “I am?”
“I love you,” she said with a smile.
“Sure,” Shiro answered, smirking as he turned toward the door.
“No – really,” she uttered. Her tone became very serious. “I love you.”
As if unsure whether her words had made her point clear, she put her arms around him.
Travis wasn’t alone in the locker room for very long; he looked left when a small, lavender form slunk through the cracked door.
“<Sorry I took so long to catch up, Hester wanted to play…>” she replied. “<I’m not late, am I?>”
“Where the hell have you been?! The match was supposed to start an hour ago!” Travis spat, his eyes glittering with rage. His angry scowl started to contort strangely.
“<You can’t even do that with a straight face,>” she chuckled. “<You’re so full of it.>”
He laughed as the Espeon leapt up onto the bench and sat next to him.
“<So this is it…?>” she answered. “<Nervous?>”
“Not really,” he said. “It was everything else leading up that got me. I’ve been here in my dreams hundreds of times.”
“<Really?>” Angel tilted her head. “<What’s your record?>”
“Didn’t get that far,” he replied.
“<So…undefeated?>” she asked.
“…I guess you could say that,” he answered. He let out a heavy sigh. “You realize that, if we win…”
“<I trust you,>” Angel interrupted him. “<So I won’t hold back. You can count on it.>”
“Our first challenger is a third-year Trainer, who hails all the way from New Bark Town, Johto…”
An old-sounding voice cut through the silence, echoing out of the PA system. Travis jumped to his feet, looking over his shoulder at the speaker.
“That’s the Commissioner,” he said breathlessly, his heart suddenly up-shifting into its highest gear. He let out a ragged sigh and looked down at the ground.
“<You okay?>” Angel asked, a worried expression on her face.
Travis looked straight ahead again – and the glint in his eye was manic, like bottled madness. His thumbs locked around his fingers in clenched fists, and everything on him seemed to stiffen visibly.
“Let’s go.”
He stood close to the tunnel’s exit, waiting for some sort of signal to let him know that it was time to emerge. He was trying to mark where McClellan was in his introduction, but the crowd was implacable. The old commissioner’s voice was strong for being nearly eighty, but it sounded to Travis like Sir R.J. McClellan was trying to shout into a raging hurricane.
This would be the nation’s last chance to distract itself for a while.
Off this island, back in the real world, there was a country that was still licking its wounds from the horrific civil war that had engulfed it. There were families still trying to adjust to life without a spouse, a sibling, or a parent. There were survivors from both sides returning home as the only one left out of a group of childhood friends. There was no doubt in his mind – the King would need as many hands and as many voices as possible.
And, if he won, he would be among that number.
He no longer fought with the sword, but the people still needed heroes.
That would be the cost of achieving his dream.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t so bad.
He had slowly fallen in love with this land during the course of his time here. The rolling meadows of Verdanturf, majestic Mt. Chimney overlooking Lavaridge City, the white sands on Dewford Island…even the bustle and sprawl of places like Rustboro and Mauville…
He saw a group of people that had been wounded time and time again, and still refused to give up their hopes.
And if he never did another great work for the people of Hoenn, beyond what he had already done…he made good entertainment. The people, despite the pain many of them had endured in the last several months, were clearly enjoying themselves, ceasing to dwell on their troubles if only for these moments.
Steven had clearly set it up for Hoenn to emerge from this crisis with a new generation atop the League, just as there was a new generation of leaders in Sootopolis Castle.
The noise had gone to deafening levels.
“<I think that’s your cue,>” Angel commented.
Travis stepped into the late-morning sun, and an explosion of cheering greeted him. Honestly, Travis was a bit surprised; he had been used to hearing at least a few boos and catcalls scattered throughout the crowd. If they were there today, then the cheering and yelling were definitely drowning them out – them and anybody else. He remembered vaguely that they’d been giving away complimentary earplugs in the Emerald Village. Perhaps he should have brought some – he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear anything come tomorrow morning.
He made his way out silently toward the center of the stadium, his target a very old man, slightly hunched, in a neatly pressed suit and tie. The old man saw him coming and proffered a long-fingered, wrinkled hand as he got there. Travis took it and gently shook it, then felt the pressure of the old man squeezing his hand a bit harder, almost as if to prove that he still had a decent grip for his age. There was a glint in the old man’s eye – a shadow, perhaps, of the Champion that had battled in this Coliseum himself, decades ago…
“Our second challenger is originally from Cherrygrove City, also in Johto…”
Matt observed the emptiness of the locker room. He had to say, he wasn’t surprised. After all, Travis was just plain more popular than he was. It was just as well. He didn’t really do crowds. He wanted to concentrate…to focus.
Still, he wondered why Madeline hadn’t shown up. His parents had been there, Veronica had been there…
Having his family…
Having a family, period…
…was enough for him.
And yet, Madeline had not shown up. Maybe she was late? She was usually late. Then again, Mariah hadn’t been there, either…
Almost on cue, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said loudly.
A girl with long, black hair and green eyes strode in soon after the door opened. Matt jumped to his feet.
“Mariah…you made it,” he said, unable to hide the smile on his face. This smile, as rare as it was, quickly faded when he took a better look at the girl’s pale face. He was looking down at the ground, seemingly making a point to focus on a spot that was nowhere near Matt’s eyes.
“I…” she started. “I thought you should know…I think…”
She took a deep breath, and then another. Her face started to twist.
“I think we should just be friends from now on,” she said, very quickly. Letting out a loud sob, she tore for the door. The sheer shock of this comment froze Matt for a brief moment.
“Bee! Wait a second…” he uttered, getting her hand right as she was about to leave. She whirled around and swatted wildly, nearly hitting Matt in the process.
“Wait?” she repeated. “I’m tired of waiting. And that’s all that’s going to happen. More waiting. If you win, you’re a continent away. If you don’t win, you’re going to Pummelo to be with your family. I’m happy for you, I really am – but, either way, I lose.”
Matt frowned.
“That’s the only reason, huh?” he said sadly, turning away from her. “You can’t trust me.”
“I want to…I do,” Mariah answered tearfully. “I’m just…afraid of being hurt again.”
“That’s a vote of confidence,” Matt bit back. “You’re pretty much telling me that I’m no better than any other guy that’s left you alone. You’re saying I’m no better than Rafael!”
“I’m – sorry!” Mariah started screaming at him. “I can’t be like you in a relationship! Whoever wins my heart has it. But you’ve never given your heart to anything except your own goals.”
“Okay, fine,” Matt answered, quietly but sharply. “If that’s what you really want to think about me, then this conversation is over.”
Mariah gasped. She bit her lip and silently made her way toward the door. She reached toward the handle, but stopped. A strange sound was interrupting the silence. Mariah turned around.
“…Matt?”
It was quiet, but not enough for him to hide…he was crying. She had only ever seen him cry twice – several months ago, on the anniversary of his brother and sister’s deaths, and that past week, when he met Veronica in person for the first time. Always family – and that was a start, but she had never seen him show that kind of emotion about her. At least, she thought, she held out hope…that it might have been about her.
He straightened.
“You have my heart,” he finally said, his voice shaky. “You had it before I wanted to admit I had one to give. But…if you really want to leave, then I can’t stop you, can I?”
¬Mariah stood rooted to the spot.
“I…didn’t mean…” she murmured.
“But you’re right, aren’t you?” he asked. “I shouldn’t be as cold as I am. It’s just…”
“…you’re used to it,” Mariah finished. “You felt like you had to be like that…to survive. I know you’re not heartless…but sometimes it’s easy to forget.”
Matt turned around and took a couple of strides toward her.
“I’m working on it,” he said, sounding a bit weary, almost as if they’d had this conversation a thousand times before. He silently reached his arms around her.
How long would it be until he became the type of person that he could look at in the mirror every morning and not mind so much?
Six years ago, he was a normal boy with a normal family – two parents that argued, but nonetheless stayed together for the sake of their children. He had two older siblings who were from a different father but cared for their family nonetheless. He had a twin sister who teased and antagonized him to no end. But she was the only one allowed to do it. If someone at school tried it, they were liable to leave with a black eye or a tooth missing.
Four years ago, he was reeling. Everything had come crashing down in a matter of months. His father – gone. His older brother and sister – gone. And, in a way, he lost his twin as well. She had gone from fighting simply to protect him, to picking fights with everyone. Eleven-year-olds on the verge of adolescence had it tough enough – a total and complete domestic breakdown was the last thing they needed. On top of everything else, Taylor, seemingly unlucky in love, turned from an otherwise tolerable lady with a bit of a temper to the vindictive, abusive mother from hell. He decided then that he would become a Trainer, and that he would encourage Madeline to be one, too – if for no other reason than to get away from their mother.
Two years ago, he achieved his dream. He never remembered being so happy with his mother losing patience. He was finally a Pokémon Trainer. Not a particularly good one at first…he lost more than he won initially, but he slowly grew stronger…
…and at the same time, colder, more ruthless. He isolated himself, believing other Trainers to be, at best, competition, and at worst, unworthy hindrances. His dream, at one point such an innocent and well-intentioned creature, had morphed into a monster. Perhaps all he had needed was one clear defeat to teach him a lesson. It just so happened that, as his obsession for being the best grew, his skills grew that much faster. Not only did he dream of being the best, but he thought that he could actually get there.
That was when it all fell apart.
Whispers of a war in the north, an attack upon the nation.
One gym leader was dead.
Another, wounded in a besieged city.
A third, on his sickbed, slowly dying of old age.
A fourth, due to give birth soon.
A fifth, too close to the frontlines of the battle to justify having her gym open.
And the league’s own Champion, away from Mt. Silver, defending his city against the strange threat.
The League had no choice. Having to put half of the nation’s Gyms in the charge of interim leaders and junior assistants halfway through the season “would compromise the competitive integrity on which the Johto Pokémon League prides itself.” Those were the words of one Alex Grady, Johto League Commissioner, as he officially announced the cancellation of the upcoming Tournament, and the closing of all League-sanctioned gyms for the 2011 season.
All the effort he put in…he had worked so hard…
Only for circumstance to come and take it away…
Had he simply failed, he could have dealt with it a bit better, perhaps. But the fact of the matter was, it was simply not his fault.
But he had to blame someone. He had to release all of his anger at someone…but there was no one around.
So he swallowed this bitter pill, kept it deep inside him…
He was angry at nothing, and thus angry at everything.
He wasn’t like most teenagers. Style and popularity weren’t worth the effort, and falling in love wasn’t on his daily to-do list. Funny how that works. If he had been looking for it, he probably wouldn’t have found it.
He could say that, but the fact was, it found him.
She found him.
He didn’t remember exactly what it was that made her so attractive to him. Maybe it was because, underneath that quiet spirit, he saw a tiny part in her that would rather take on the world than worry too much about what it thought of her.
In any case, she was an added motivation – something that got him out of the funk he was in. But part of him still felt like anything less than the Championship for his effort was a failure.
Then, through some strange miracle, he had a family.
He remembered staring at that screen, the turquoise eyes of that little girl as she introduced herself to him – and with that, the reality that he had a home, somewhere he could go to and belong if nothing else worked.
The old commissioner gripped his hand and shook it, a smile etched on his wizened face. This old man had been Champion once. Matt wondered if, through that glint in his bespectacled eyes, R.J. McClellan was remembering himself as a teenager or young man, standing exactly where Matt was, shaking hands with the commissioner of his era. As Matt turned his eyes on Travis, he wondered if R.J. remembered vividly the name and face of the person that he battled in the finals match to have a shot at the Champion.
In any case, R.J. had lived to a ripe old age. Matt could only imagine that he did so by just going out there and doing it – not worrying so much about what might happen after failure…or after success, for that matter.
Free and easy. Win or lose…
Neither was the end of the world.
Chapter 79: Two Sides of a Coin
October 15, PA 2013 –Evergrande City, Eastern Hoenn
Middle-of-the-road rock played in the background of the Emerald Village’s most popular restaurant. It seemed on this, the night before what many were touting as the “biggest match in a century,” everyone who could afford it was at the Sapphire Star. These people included all sorts – many of them were families with children, here to celebrate the final night of the Tournament. Of course, anybody that knew tradition knew that there was an after-party the night following the final match. They also knew that, unless they knew the new Champion or one of the current Elite Four members or Gym Leaders, they had no shot of getting in. So most were satisfied to enjoy the food and the atmosphere here at the restaurant. Both were catered by the same chef – a man that had been at his career for years and knew to pull out all the stops on this particular night, when anyone from common spectators to the King himself was liable to show up.
The chef – an aging, man with salt-and-pepper hair who was surprisingly lanky for one who had worked around food all his life, gazed out from the bar, waving in a couple of random directions to make sure none of his greeters thought he was blowing them off. He scanned the area for any sign of a larger concentration of soldiers – that would mean that the King or one of the other important generals was present. The King was obviously not there. Even if he had taken to wearing commoners’ clothes, he had a very particular eye color that would have been very difficult not to notice. The chef’s eyes, however, did glimpse a pair sitting relatively at the edge of all the action. The man had hair that was the darkest black, coupled with milk chocolate skin of the smoothest complexion. That was obviously Lord Rashid al-Zevi, one of the Three Generals. But who was that young lady with him? She had short, curly, white-blond hair that seemed to be the very antithesis to his. Her skin tone was a very similar brown, but he was sure that was merely a coincidence. Rashid was the late Lord Roald’s only child, after all…
Rashid was telling the woman something. She looked down at the table. The chef saw her body shudder. Was she crying? Rashid reached over the table and put a hand on her shoulder. He was wearing a very serious face (as he normally did), but the chef noticed what might have been the most subtle tint of red. The young woman looked up, seemingly surprised, and stared at him for a moment. The faces of the two met over the center of the small table, lips locked in a kiss…
At that moment a clamor of sorts erupted in a corner of the restaurant. Striding across the bar (“Sorry,” he muttered as he nearly knocked over one of his waitresses) he peered out to see what was going on. The attention seemed to be centered around another couple, much younger this time. They were only teenagers, in fact. The boy had curly, brown hair and, were it not for the slightly tanned complexion, didn’t seem like he would stand out much in a crowd. The boy looked slightly harried by the closing crowd. Many of them were pre-teen children, younger than rookie-age, holding various objects out for him to sign. The chef shook his head. He felt sorry for the boy in a way. He was clearly uncomfortable with all of this attention, and he wasn’t even Champion yet. In fact, the chef, in nearly twenty years of operating the Sapphire Star, didn’t remember a finals competitor ever getting this much attention. After all, in previous years, the finals winner was of little matter unless he could meet and beat the current Champion. But this year was special – the tournament winner was the new Champion…and obviously, there were hundreds of young children that knew that. After about three or four minutes of the boy grudgingly signing various objects, the girl that was sitting across from him, her shiny, black hair tied in a complex bun-and-braids combo, turned politely to the children and said something to them. Many of them left disappointed, with the exception of one little girl, who said something to her that caused her to turn a brilliant red. The little girl walked off…
Another mild ruckus started near the door. The chef grimaced. He figured that would be the other competitor. He was wrong. Walking in was not a teenager (or two), but a rather large, suit-wearing individual whose very presence caused the approaching crowd to back off a bit. A young man who must have been in his early twenties walked in, laughing a bit as he put his hand on the large bruiser’s shoulder. He turned and looked back to see a handful of other guys walking in. They looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. A couple of them had hairstyles that weren’t what one would call ‘normal’. The chef looked away, hoping in the back of his head that these guys weren’t here to cause trouble.
The young man in the front looked around, his windswept-looking bleach-blond hair covering one of his eyes very slightly.
“Aww, man…” the guy stopped walking as one of his friends, sporting a similar-color fauxhawk, walked past him, hands behind his head. “Dude, the ambiance in here is lame. Where’s the DJ?”
“Don’t gripe, Blake,” the first young man sighed. “This is supposed to be the second best restaurant in the country.”
“Clearly, there’s a party going on in here tonight,” Blake replied. “So why does the music sound like we’re smack-dab in the middle of a chick flick?”
He looked around.
“Is there a stage somewhere? You, me, and Ax could come back with our acoustics and play some tunes.”
“We’re taking a day off,” a third man, sporting wavy, dark red hair, between a trilby and two pierced ears, said. “I’m here to eat, not steal anybody’s thunder. But Blake here does have a point, Trace. The music isn’t the best.”
The blond-haired man turned around again. “Yeah, I know…I might nudge the DJ later, but we’ve gotta find a table first. See one?”
“For seven people?” Blake uttered, turning around. “Good luck. Our best shot’s finding two tables, and I don’t think that’s happening, either.”
“It’s a total zoo in here,” the hat-wearing man known as ‘Ax’ commented. “Maybe we should find another restaurant.”
“Nope,” Tracy Robblee said with a smile. Walking off to find a table, he added, “This is the place to be tonight.”
Another young man from the back approached the others, his dark, black hair and lack of height distinguishing him. “Does Robbie get a high off being around lots of people? You guys know him better than I do, so…”
Ax sighed. “You’re probably right, Jed. Don’t get me wrong, I like being around people, too – whether or not they know who we actually are…but I just want to eat sometime today.”
“It’s all part of being a rock star, kid,” Blake slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Guys – guys,” Tracy came running back, looking over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna believe who I just saw.”
“Is the King here?” the young man known as ‘Ax’ tried looking over his shoulder.
“That’s a negative,” Tracy answered. “But I saw someone I think you’ll recognize – two people, actually.”
He turned and pointed at a specific table. A black-haired boy and a blond-haired girl were sitting there.
“Isn’t that the kid that you signed the guitar for a few days back?” Blake asked.
“I’m pretty sure that’s him,” Ax replied. “Hard to make out in this light, though…”
“That’s definitely the same guy,” Tracy commented. “Did you see who he was with, though?”
“Who, the blonde?” Jeddah, the youngest member of the group, looked around the others. “There are a lot of blonde girls. What’s your point?”
“That’s the girl that sang the anthem at the beginning of the Tournament,” Tracy replied. With a knowing smirk, he said, “You know…the one that had you and Ax crying like babies?”
“Her?” Jeddah uttered.
“And I was not crying, for the record,” Ax retorted sharply. “Okay, I was, but not for that reason. I got juice from a hot pepper in my right eye. Long story.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Blake muttered. Ax rolled his eyes.
“You wanna go over and talk to them?” Tracy asked.
“Uh…what?” Jeddah uttered.
“All of us?” Blake asked, mirroring the expressions of the two men that hadn’t yet spoken. “That’d probably scare the crap out of them, wouldn’t it?”
“That was the guy that let his Umbreon loose near our trailer just so he’d have a legit excuse to sneak back there,” Tracy commented. “I don’t think he spooks easily.”
“You enjoying the food?” Nate Elm looked up. Avril was looking across the table, smiling at him.
“It’s good,” he commented. “The view’s even better, though.”
This comment left Avril turning a bright red and Nate wondering where the hell it had come from. He wasn’t trying to be perverted – but the fact that he had said the comment while looking at her in the same strapless dress she wore at the beginning of the Tournament didn’t help her case.
“I don’t mean – that is – you’re beautiful,” Nate added, looking away from her uncomfortably. Avril frowned.
“It was a lot better when you left it,” she remarked sadly.
“Damn it,” Nate muttered. “I’ve been hanging around Shiro too much…”
“It’s a nice change of pace,” Avril said. “You’re so quiet and mysterious all the time.”
“I thought you liked that I wasn’t a huge flirt,” Nate replied, bewildered. “I don’t want anybody to start thinking that I only care about how you look.”
“Don’t worry,” she answered. “I know you care about more than just my body. But you don’t mind it, do you?”
“O-of course not,” Nate stammered, very careful to look her in the eyes. “Like I said…you’re beautiful.”
Avril giggled, as Nate went back to his food. “You’re still so awkward around me, like we’re meeting for the first time. It’s cute.”
“We interrupting anything?” Nate jumped, and then grimaced. He had hit his knee on the bottom of the table. Avril had another laugh at his expense. He turned to his left and did a double-take sort of blink, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Avril, looking to her right and recognizing the group of young men, gasped.
“You’re…” she started.
The guy with the lank, blond hair did an urgent throat-clearing noise while shaking his head. “We’re nobody important. Just a bunch of hungry guys looking for food…that just happen to be in a rock band, but that’s beside the point. You…”
He was looking straight at Avril.
“…were amazing the other night,” he finished.
Leaving this statement open to interpretations could have resulted in a couple that were very unfortunate. The blond seemed to realize this after about a half second, so he amended his statement. “On the anthem, I mean. Where’d you learn to sing like that?”
Avril looked very nervous. “I-I don’t know,” she stammered uncomfortably. “I just…do it, I guess.”
“Raw talent, huh? Impressive,” he replied. “What’s your name?”
“Avril,” she answered. “Avril Pennington.”
“Nice…I’m –” he started, but Avril cut her off.
“Tracy Robblee,” she replied for him. Going down the line with each of the young men, she said, “And you’re Blake Shaw (she looked at the young man with the fauxhawk), Adam Chaplin (she looked at Ax), Victor, Danny, and…Jeddah North, right?”
“Wow, she got all of us,” Tracy laughed. “So you two here for something special?”
“His birthday,” Avril answered. Tracy’s eyes turned toward Nate, who was being his usual laconic self.
“He turns sixteen today.”
“Sixteen?” Tracy asked in a ‘that’s-it?’ kind of tone. “I could have sworn you were both older than that.”
“I get that a lot,” Nate finally said.
“Well, you’ve got very good taste,” Tracy commented. “Or you’re amazingly lucky. My first girlfriend was…”
He shook his head and let out a snicker.
“In any case, it’s really nice meeting both of you. See ya later,” Tracy said, turning around. Assorted goodbyes from the rest of the band echoed his as they all walked away.
“Wow…that was…random,” Nate commented. Avril was grinning and trying to hide it.
“Wish we could have gotten a picture or something. Tai wouldn’t believe us if we told him,” she said.
“He’ll believe us,” Nate said with a strange confidence. “Hey…isn’t that…”
Avril turned around. Another teenage couple was walking into the restaurant. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, open, over a black t-shirt with a grainy yellow taxi logo, and jeans. He and his pink-haired girlfriend were coming toward the center of the restaurant just as the six band members and their large security guy were leaving. The blond in the front waved at the boy and tapped him on the shoulder. The girl did a double-take and said something to him. He looked down at his t-shirt and then at the back of the band’s security detail, who was the last to leave.
“How many outfits did he pack?” Nate muttered. “There’s no way he had that shirt when we got here.”
“Katrina…” Avril said, staring at the other girl as she greeted a couple of people who apparently noticed her and the boy. “She just looks so beautiful without trying, doesn’t she?”
“Erm…” Nate didn’t think that there was a right answer for this question. He wasn’t about to call another girl ‘beautiful’ in front of his girlfriend – but to say anything otherwise would have made him a liar, which was just as bad. She was wearing a white sash with her black dress, and had her long hair hanging against her right shoulder in a ponytail.
“You know…” Travis said as the two were being led to their table by their waitress (they were smart and reserved one beforehand). “For someone who wanted us to keep a low profile, you sure went out of your way to dress up.”
Katrina smiled coyly. “Well, I can’t come outside looking trashy. I’d make you look bad.”
Travis pulled her chair out for her and let her sit down. Normally, she hated that, but tonight, he noticed, she let it go. He eased into his own chair. He happened to look up. Avril’s fair blonde hair and green dress were not hard to miss, but she had her back turned to him and Travis was looking over her and Nate anyway. The boy that had caught his eye was at a distance, but he had obviously been watching them the entire time, as he was looking straight at him. He raised his hand in a slight wave. Travis responded in turn.
“Geez, I think everybody except the King is here,” Travis commented. “Matt and Mariah are over there, I see Avril and Nate…I thought Shiro and Madeline would show up, but I guess not…”
“They’re probably with Madeline’s family,” Katrina surmised. “Either that, or they found a corner and they’re making out somewhere…”
Travis raised an eyebrow.
“What?” Katrina uttered. “It’s what they do. They’ve been like that since they started going out…again. Madeline’s just clingy like that, and Shiro’s not going to be the one to complain about it.”
“Good point,” Travis said.
With a smile, Katrina commented. “Nate’s the polar opposite. Avril told me it’s still sort of a battle just to get him to kiss her in public. You can tell he loves her, but…that’s just his personality. He’s not really emotional.”
“I’ll just ask you because you’re going to tell me anyway,” Travis sighed. “How are Matt and Mariah doing?”
“What do you mean by that?” she asked.
“Well…as far as I know, they haven’t been together very long,” he answered. “And then Matt got captured – of course, we didn’t know that at the time, we thought he was just dead and Mariah did, too…and now all of a sudden he’s back. Don’t you think that would make things kind of…never mind, I think they’re fine.”
“What makes you…oh,” Katrina said. According to what Mariah had said, Matt was affectionate, but perhaps not as much so as she wanted him to be at times. Katrina could sympathize. But, given Matt’s quiet demeanor, instead of coming off like a gentleman like Travis did, Matt tended to come off as aloof and distant. But damned if the two weren’t presently kissing right there in the middle of the restaurant. “Matt’s changed.”
“Well…**** happens,” Travis muttered. Katrina raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by Travis’ flippant use of language. (She hadn’t heard the conversation he was sort of referencing.) “And when it does, you get one of three things…it either kills you entirely, you become more twisted, or you change into a better person. There aren’t a whole lot of people our age that know that as well as we do…”
He suddenly became sullen for a moment.
“How did we even get this far?” he asked, head down toward the table. “Most of us should be dead by now – or worse.”
“Luck? Divine intervention? I have no idea,” Katrina said. “But…I’m glad for whatever it was.”
She offered up a smile. The two looked up just in time to see their food arrive.
After dinner was over, they walked back to the Pokémon Center together. The lobby and eatery were both relatively empty; it was already past nine at night, and anyone who wasn’t already in bed, it seemed, was out at the Emerald Village.
“You going to bed?” Katrina asked as they approached the staircase leading up to the lodgings.
“Not right now,” Travis replied simply.
“Too excited?” she asked.
“I guess you could say that,” he answered with a smile.
“Well…I’m tired,” she said. “And I want to be up early tomorrow. So…I guess this is good night. I really…enjoy being with you.”
Travis was confused. Weren’t they together nearly every single day? Hadn’t that been the case for nearly two full years now?
“I mean…” Katrina said. “That’s the first time in a while that we’ve gotten to go on a date like…”
“Normal people,” Travis finished, almost inaudibly.
Katrina bit her lip for a moment in the following silence. Her expression trembled. With a gasp, she fell upon him. He embraced her tightly, holding her and feeling her push gently against him as she drew in slow breaths.
“I really missed you,” she said, squeezing him tighter. “And now that I finally have you back…”
“Katrina…” Travis uttered – she shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s like asking me not to breathe,” he answered. “If something’s wrong, I want to know.”
“I’m okay,” she repeated. “I mean it. I’m just…tired, that’s all…”
She drew away from him, left him with a short smile, and walked up the stairs. Travis thought of chasing after her, but knew it would do no good; once she closed up like that, she would only talk on her own terms – so trying to pry anything out of her would be a waste of time. He sighed and turned around, making his way back toward the exit.
Fog clouded his senses as minutes of aimless meandering seemed to simply slip by unnoticed. He wandered around the Emerald Village for a while. He vaguely remembered waving at a few people. Some of them he knew, some of them he did not. Had he signed something? Taken a picture with someone?
The next thing he became aware of was the Coliseum’s entrance. He looked straight up at the front of the colossal building. A thought went through his head – where was everyone? There was obviously no match going on right now, but one would expect a place like this to be more guarded so that no one could just waltz in.
Maybe the guards were off partying, too.
Or maybe they were protecting the King, wherever he was. No doubt there may have been a seed or two of discord among the large crowd that had gathered at Evergrande; someone who might have wanted to force-feed King Elrik a length of steel. His protection was infinitely more important than some old building. Well, if no one was going to come and stop him…it was good for taking a walk with no distractions. He showed himself inside.
A refreshing kind of nighttime quiet filled the concourse’s vast hall. He could hear his own breaths, slow but steady. He could hear every step, the echoing sound of his feet making contact with the hard floor beneath him. More importantly, he could hear himself think, away from the static hum of the masses.
The life of a Champion…it alternated, he supposed, between moments of incessant noise and this kind of overwhelming, pressing silence.
Introvert, extrovert, it mattered not – at least one portion of one’s life would make him unhappy.
As for Travis, he alternated. He noticed, she noticed, and it seemed that his friends noticed as well. That was why no one had followed him here, was it not?
The cool breeze blew against him as he stepped from the shadow of the inner colonnade into the moonlight, the innards of the stadium itself. This place was majestic – it had an ancient quality about it, which was, he guessed, what the architects had in mind when they built it.
He made his way down the stairs, all the way to the first row on the center aisle. He could look straight ahead and see the Pokéball-model circle that marked the arena’s center.
He slipped into a chair and sat down, taking the time to process…everything.
He evaluated his situation.
The war was over. Elrik was on the throne and the Kingdom of Hoenn had begun to stabilize again.
Travis’ time as a Swordbearer was done. The swords were taken by their Creator, sealed away in the heavenly realms until such a time when they would be needed once more.
He and Katrina had gone through a near-breakup that had ended with him asking her to be his wife when the time came. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time…and yet, after the evening he gave her the ring, it had disappeared, never to be seen again.
And, of course, he was one match away from being Hoenn’s Pokémon League Champion.
“Shouldn’t you be in bed by now?” a boy’s voice alerted him. Travis opened his eyes and looked out of their corners to his right. Sitting a few seats down from him was the one that would be his opponent in a matter of hours.
“What about you?” Travis asked. “Party’s in the village.”
“I’ve never been much for parties,” Matt admitted, a half-smile creasing his face.
There was a long silence between them.
“So…this is it, huh?” Matt finally commented. “If my count’s right, we’ve battled each other exactly four times since we started as rookies; we’ve each won one, and there were two draws.”
“Hmm,” Travis wasn’t going to argue with those numbers.
“For the record, I’m glad it went down like this,” he said. “If I’m going to fight a battle to be Champion, I want my heart to be in it.”
Travis looked at Matt with a bewildered expression.
“Becoming Champion means separating myself from everyone I care about,” the brown-haired boy said, his green eyes alight with reflections of the bright October moon. “Bee, Madeline, my dad, Mandi, Veronica...If I’m going to sacrifice that – and I’m still not sure I will…”
Travis’ jaws separated for a second. Was Matt saying that he didn’t want to be Champion at all?
“…I’d rather do it knowing I beat one of the greatest out there,” Matt finished seriously. “Modesty’s all well and good, but those are the facts. Anybody on the outside looking in would be a fool to say different, if you ask me. I wonder...no, I don’t…”
He looked up into the air.
“I know your granddad’s up there somewhere,” he declared. “And I know he’ll be watching you. And hopefully, my brother and sister…”
He clutched the charm hanging at his neck.
“If it weren’t for me,” Travis muttered. “They’d have better seats.”
“Stop it,” Matt was on his feet now. “When are you going to stop blaming yourself for what happened to them? I said before, it’s not...not anybody’s fault.”
He sat back down.
“If you’re moving forward and looking back, it’s damned hard to see where you’re going. You have to look ahead now.” Matt said. “You owe it to Katrina…unless I’m totally off and you don’t plan on marrying her one day.”
“I do,” Travis answered, ironically enough.
“That’s what I thought,” Matt said. “There were a lot of things you probably would do differently if you could go back – same goes for me. But then, we’d be completely different people. In any case, there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. You can’t go back and change the past, right?”
“Right…” Travis muttered. Matt stood up.
“I’m going to call it a night,” he said. “You should too. If you can’t battle at your best tomorrow because you’re only running on a couple of hours’ sleep, I’ll be really ****** off.”
And he started up the stairs, leaving Travis to stare out at the battlefield.
;384;
“You’d better win, or I’ll be mad.”
“You’d better win, or I’ll be mad.”
Travis stared at the locker room door, which exited out into the entrance tunnel. He looked over his right shoulder and offered the scowling little girl a smile. She was standing up on the bench, and instead of returning his smile, she looked down sadly.
“You’ll keep your promise, right?” she asked.
Travis turned toward her.
“Sure, I will,” he answered. The girl put her arms around his neck. He hugged her back as she rested her head on his shoulder.
A man in the small crowd sighed after a while.
“Alright, Anhje, it’s almost time to go find our seats. Hurry up,” he said.
“Daddy,” she whined, burying her face in the boy’s shoulder again.
“It’s not like you won’t see him again. He promised you would,” Sander pleaded with her.
Anhje scowled, dropping her arms to her sides. “Okay. Bye, Travis.”
“Bye,” he responded, smiling at her warmly. She started back toward her father, walking down the bench. Then, without warning, she turned around, left her feet, and lunged at Travis again. Travis was definitely taken aback by the sudden weight of a small child hanging from around his neck, but he did a good job of holding her up as she hugged him again and pressed her face into his cheek, almost as if it had been something she had been holding in for days. He finally let her down, and she ran back over to her father, who picked her up and let her out of the room. With a grimace, Travis caught a glimpse of her face and noticed that it was already red and stained with tears.
Anhje’s and his mother’s facial expressions were matching.
“Oh, come on, honey, don’t act like that, you’re embarrassing him,” his father, holding Kylie, tried to explain calmly.
“I’m sorry…” Amy sniffled. “It’s just…I’m so proud of you…”
She swallowed her son into her arms, sobbing unabashedly. He looked over his mother’s shoulder at his dad, who was giving him an apologetic smile.
Once she had gotten it all out, he let her son go.
“Where are the others?” Travis’ father asked, looking around in confusion. “Thought they’d be here by now…”
As if on cue, a girl wearing a familiar-looking dress strode in.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked. “I made sure all of our seats were reserved, so…”
“Of course not,” T.J. answered. “Actually, we were headed that way right now…”
He seemed to be putting emphasis on the words. Whatever message he was trying to send, Amy got it, and started toward the door with him. Allowing his wife out first, he turned to him and said, “I’m proud of you, too. Hope you know that.”
Travis smiled. “Of course I do.”
And he let the door shut, leaving just him…
And her.
“You look amazing,” he said.
She offered a weak smile. “Now that we’ve been out on the town, everyone’s seen us together. I just thought I’d look nice in case they wanted to turn a camera my way for some reason…”
Her voice broke – not cracked – on the last few words.
“Katrina…”
She shook her head tearfully. “I should have brought a cheat sheet or something. Damn it…what am I supposed to say to you after…after…everything?”
Travis was taken aback for a moment. Truth be told, he didn’t know how to respond. So he tried to make a joke out of it – maybe he could get her to leave him with a smile before he went out. “‘I love you’ would have been okay.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she answered vehemently. “Not for me.”
There was a long, long silence. It was surreal, to be sure. But it was appropriate. She was absolutely right. What could possibly be said now?
Her fists were clenching and trembling a bit. In fact, her entire body was.
“I know you can do this,” she said, her teeth grit and a blazing look in her eyes. It was at that point that he noticed, faintly glimmering on her violently shaking right hand, a ring… “I know y—”
Her voice cut out on her in the middle of the sentence. She tried talking, but no more words would come. He put his arms around her.
“When I woke up in my own bed two years ago with half the bones in my body broken,” he said. “You could have gone anywhere. When I focused all my anger on you, just because you were the only one around, you didn’t just stay. You kept coming back – because you knew that if I didn’t hurt you, I’d try to hurt myself. Nobody reasonable could have asked you to do that. Nobody did ask you. But you did it anyway, because you knew how much I needed you. So I promise…no, I swear…I won’t let everything you did be for nothing.”
After a while, she spoke.
“It’s enough for me that you’re your old self again,” she finally said, in the faintest whisper.
“You deserve better than that. You deserve the world. But this is the best I can do…”
She looked up at him…and then smiled, bringing the hand with the ring up to her chest.
Travis finally had to say something. “You wore it today.”
“I did,” she answered.
She blushed and looked down, then back up. She leaned in to kiss him. He tasted a faint trace of fruit on her lips before she drew away.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked.
“Plan?” Travis uttered incredulously. “This is Matt we’re talking about. Of course I don’t have a plan.”
She laughed. “You’ve got a point. Still, I think you’ll be fine. Listen…”
She touched her forehead and her lips to his.
“I love you,” she said. “That won’t change if you win or lose. You don’t have to win for me. Do it for yourself, okay?”
“Sure,” Travis answered after a while.
“This is your dream. It’s been your dream since you were six years old,” she said. “And you had every reason in the world to give up, but you didn’t. Now, it’s time to go out there and get what you’ve worked so hard for.”
She kissed him again, and embraced him tightly.
“I’ll be behind you all the way,” she said, finally letting him go. He watched her leave for a moment.
“I know you will, Katrina,” he answered. She turned around. “I know you will.”
She smiled.
;384;
Meanwhile, back at the Pokémon Center…THUNK. THUNK.
“Room service!”
A knock and a raised voice made the girl inside the room jump. She had been lying back on her bed, looking up at the ceiling, dressed in her new halter top and jeans just because she didn’t feel like spending the entire day in her bedclothes.
The girl rolled her green eyes. “Come in, it’s unlocked.”
Once the person came in – a tall, red-haired boy – she sat bolt upright.
“Shiro, what the hell are you doing here?” she barked at him. Then, turning away from him and slumping back onto her pillow, she added, “I thought I told you to go on without me.”
“…You’re not going at all?” he asked. “Y-you’re kidding, right?”
“I didn’t think it’d be too much…but it is, Shiro. It is,” she said, staring out of the window with eyes that were now blurring with tears. She heard scraping and knew that Shiro had just pulled up a chair. “Travis against Matt…I don’t want Matt to lose – he’s my brother, I can’t not root for him to win – but if he does win, then I lose him again. And we just got him back. Veronica just met him. But if Travis loses…then everything he went through will be for nothing and I don’t know if I could watch that, either. I care so much about both of them…”
“…But not as much as about your own feelings being hurt,” was the boy’s response.
“What? That’s not fair,” she said. “I haven’t had a real family since I was ten years old, Shiro.”
“Well, what if Matt looks into the stands and sees that his own sister didn’t show up to watch the battle?” Shiro asked. “And Travis bent over backwards to make sure you were doing alright, even when I couldn’t handle it anymore.”
“I just don’t…want to feel like I have to pick a side,” she answered. “Because, honestly, I don’t know which one to pick.”
“Then don’t pick one,” Shiro replied. The chair creaked as he rose from it and walked over to her bed, hovering over her. “That’s pretty simple, right? In any case, if you’re gonna decide, you’d better do it quick – the match starts in fifteen minutes.”
She sat up, appeared to contemplate her next move for several moments…and then stood.
“You’re probably right,” she finally answered.
“Wait…what?” Shiro hadn’t expected to hear that. “I am?”
“I love you,” she said with a smile.
“Sure,” Shiro answered, smirking as he turned toward the door.
“No – really,” she uttered. Her tone became very serious. “I love you.”
As if unsure whether her words had made her point clear, she put her arms around him.
Travis wasn’t alone in the locker room for very long; he looked left when a small, lavender form slunk through the cracked door.
“<Sorry I took so long to catch up, Hester wanted to play…>” she replied. “<I’m not late, am I?>”
“Where the hell have you been?! The match was supposed to start an hour ago!” Travis spat, his eyes glittering with rage. His angry scowl started to contort strangely.
“<You can’t even do that with a straight face,>” she chuckled. “<You’re so full of it.>”
He laughed as the Espeon leapt up onto the bench and sat next to him.
“<So this is it…?>” she answered. “<Nervous?>”
“Not really,” he said. “It was everything else leading up that got me. I’ve been here in my dreams hundreds of times.”
“<Really?>” Angel tilted her head. “<What’s your record?>”
“Didn’t get that far,” he replied.
“<So…undefeated?>” she asked.
“…I guess you could say that,” he answered. He let out a heavy sigh. “You realize that, if we win…”
“<I trust you,>” Angel interrupted him. “<So I won’t hold back. You can count on it.>”
“Our first challenger is a third-year Trainer, who hails all the way from New Bark Town, Johto…”
An old-sounding voice cut through the silence, echoing out of the PA system. Travis jumped to his feet, looking over his shoulder at the speaker.
“That’s the Commissioner,” he said breathlessly, his heart suddenly up-shifting into its highest gear. He let out a ragged sigh and looked down at the ground.
“<You okay?>” Angel asked, a worried expression on her face.
Travis looked straight ahead again – and the glint in his eye was manic, like bottled madness. His thumbs locked around his fingers in clenched fists, and everything on him seemed to stiffen visibly.
“Let’s go.”
He stood close to the tunnel’s exit, waiting for some sort of signal to let him know that it was time to emerge. He was trying to mark where McClellan was in his introduction, but the crowd was implacable. The old commissioner’s voice was strong for being nearly eighty, but it sounded to Travis like Sir R.J. McClellan was trying to shout into a raging hurricane.
This would be the nation’s last chance to distract itself for a while.
Off this island, back in the real world, there was a country that was still licking its wounds from the horrific civil war that had engulfed it. There were families still trying to adjust to life without a spouse, a sibling, or a parent. There were survivors from both sides returning home as the only one left out of a group of childhood friends. There was no doubt in his mind – the King would need as many hands and as many voices as possible.
And, if he won, he would be among that number.
He no longer fought with the sword, but the people still needed heroes.
That would be the cost of achieving his dream.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t so bad.
He had slowly fallen in love with this land during the course of his time here. The rolling meadows of Verdanturf, majestic Mt. Chimney overlooking Lavaridge City, the white sands on Dewford Island…even the bustle and sprawl of places like Rustboro and Mauville…
He saw a group of people that had been wounded time and time again, and still refused to give up their hopes.
And if he never did another great work for the people of Hoenn, beyond what he had already done…he made good entertainment. The people, despite the pain many of them had endured in the last several months, were clearly enjoying themselves, ceasing to dwell on their troubles if only for these moments.
Steven had clearly set it up for Hoenn to emerge from this crisis with a new generation atop the League, just as there was a new generation of leaders in Sootopolis Castle.
The noise had gone to deafening levels.
“<I think that’s your cue,>” Angel commented.
Travis stepped into the late-morning sun, and an explosion of cheering greeted him. Honestly, Travis was a bit surprised; he had been used to hearing at least a few boos and catcalls scattered throughout the crowd. If they were there today, then the cheering and yelling were definitely drowning them out – them and anybody else. He remembered vaguely that they’d been giving away complimentary earplugs in the Emerald Village. Perhaps he should have brought some – he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear anything come tomorrow morning.
He made his way out silently toward the center of the stadium, his target a very old man, slightly hunched, in a neatly pressed suit and tie. The old man saw him coming and proffered a long-fingered, wrinkled hand as he got there. Travis took it and gently shook it, then felt the pressure of the old man squeezing his hand a bit harder, almost as if to prove that he still had a decent grip for his age. There was a glint in the old man’s eye – a shadow, perhaps, of the Champion that had battled in this Coliseum himself, decades ago…
“Our second challenger is originally from Cherrygrove City, also in Johto…”
;251;
Matt observed the emptiness of the locker room. He had to say, he wasn’t surprised. After all, Travis was just plain more popular than he was. It was just as well. He didn’t really do crowds. He wanted to concentrate…to focus.
Still, he wondered why Madeline hadn’t shown up. His parents had been there, Veronica had been there…
Having his family…
Having a family, period…
…was enough for him.
And yet, Madeline had not shown up. Maybe she was late? She was usually late. Then again, Mariah hadn’t been there, either…
Almost on cue, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said loudly.
A girl with long, black hair and green eyes strode in soon after the door opened. Matt jumped to his feet.
“Mariah…you made it,” he said, unable to hide the smile on his face. This smile, as rare as it was, quickly faded when he took a better look at the girl’s pale face. He was looking down at the ground, seemingly making a point to focus on a spot that was nowhere near Matt’s eyes.
“I…” she started. “I thought you should know…I think…”
She took a deep breath, and then another. Her face started to twist.
“I think we should just be friends from now on,” she said, very quickly. Letting out a loud sob, she tore for the door. The sheer shock of this comment froze Matt for a brief moment.
“Bee! Wait a second…” he uttered, getting her hand right as she was about to leave. She whirled around and swatted wildly, nearly hitting Matt in the process.
“Wait?” she repeated. “I’m tired of waiting. And that’s all that’s going to happen. More waiting. If you win, you’re a continent away. If you don’t win, you’re going to Pummelo to be with your family. I’m happy for you, I really am – but, either way, I lose.”
Matt frowned.
“That’s the only reason, huh?” he said sadly, turning away from her. “You can’t trust me.”
“I want to…I do,” Mariah answered tearfully. “I’m just…afraid of being hurt again.”
“That’s a vote of confidence,” Matt bit back. “You’re pretty much telling me that I’m no better than any other guy that’s left you alone. You’re saying I’m no better than Rafael!”
“I’m – sorry!” Mariah started screaming at him. “I can’t be like you in a relationship! Whoever wins my heart has it. But you’ve never given your heart to anything except your own goals.”
“Okay, fine,” Matt answered, quietly but sharply. “If that’s what you really want to think about me, then this conversation is over.”
Mariah gasped. She bit her lip and silently made her way toward the door. She reached toward the handle, but stopped. A strange sound was interrupting the silence. Mariah turned around.
“…Matt?”
It was quiet, but not enough for him to hide…he was crying. She had only ever seen him cry twice – several months ago, on the anniversary of his brother and sister’s deaths, and that past week, when he met Veronica in person for the first time. Always family – and that was a start, but she had never seen him show that kind of emotion about her. At least, she thought, she held out hope…that it might have been about her.
He straightened.
“You have my heart,” he finally said, his voice shaky. “You had it before I wanted to admit I had one to give. But…if you really want to leave, then I can’t stop you, can I?”
¬Mariah stood rooted to the spot.
“I…didn’t mean…” she murmured.
“But you’re right, aren’t you?” he asked. “I shouldn’t be as cold as I am. It’s just…”
“…you’re used to it,” Mariah finished. “You felt like you had to be like that…to survive. I know you’re not heartless…but sometimes it’s easy to forget.”
Matt turned around and took a couple of strides toward her.
“I’m working on it,” he said, sounding a bit weary, almost as if they’d had this conversation a thousand times before. He silently reached his arms around her.
;251;
How long would it be until he became the type of person that he could look at in the mirror every morning and not mind so much?
Six years ago, he was a normal boy with a normal family – two parents that argued, but nonetheless stayed together for the sake of their children. He had two older siblings who were from a different father but cared for their family nonetheless. He had a twin sister who teased and antagonized him to no end. But she was the only one allowed to do it. If someone at school tried it, they were liable to leave with a black eye or a tooth missing.
Four years ago, he was reeling. Everything had come crashing down in a matter of months. His father – gone. His older brother and sister – gone. And, in a way, he lost his twin as well. She had gone from fighting simply to protect him, to picking fights with everyone. Eleven-year-olds on the verge of adolescence had it tough enough – a total and complete domestic breakdown was the last thing they needed. On top of everything else, Taylor, seemingly unlucky in love, turned from an otherwise tolerable lady with a bit of a temper to the vindictive, abusive mother from hell. He decided then that he would become a Trainer, and that he would encourage Madeline to be one, too – if for no other reason than to get away from their mother.
Two years ago, he achieved his dream. He never remembered being so happy with his mother losing patience. He was finally a Pokémon Trainer. Not a particularly good one at first…he lost more than he won initially, but he slowly grew stronger…
…and at the same time, colder, more ruthless. He isolated himself, believing other Trainers to be, at best, competition, and at worst, unworthy hindrances. His dream, at one point such an innocent and well-intentioned creature, had morphed into a monster. Perhaps all he had needed was one clear defeat to teach him a lesson. It just so happened that, as his obsession for being the best grew, his skills grew that much faster. Not only did he dream of being the best, but he thought that he could actually get there.
That was when it all fell apart.
Whispers of a war in the north, an attack upon the nation.
One gym leader was dead.
Another, wounded in a besieged city.
A third, on his sickbed, slowly dying of old age.
A fourth, due to give birth soon.
A fifth, too close to the frontlines of the battle to justify having her gym open.
And the league’s own Champion, away from Mt. Silver, defending his city against the strange threat.
The League had no choice. Having to put half of the nation’s Gyms in the charge of interim leaders and junior assistants halfway through the season “would compromise the competitive integrity on which the Johto Pokémon League prides itself.” Those were the words of one Alex Grady, Johto League Commissioner, as he officially announced the cancellation of the upcoming Tournament, and the closing of all League-sanctioned gyms for the 2011 season.
All the effort he put in…he had worked so hard…
Only for circumstance to come and take it away…
Had he simply failed, he could have dealt with it a bit better, perhaps. But the fact of the matter was, it was simply not his fault.
But he had to blame someone. He had to release all of his anger at someone…but there was no one around.
So he swallowed this bitter pill, kept it deep inside him…
He was angry at nothing, and thus angry at everything.
He wasn’t like most teenagers. Style and popularity weren’t worth the effort, and falling in love wasn’t on his daily to-do list. Funny how that works. If he had been looking for it, he probably wouldn’t have found it.
He could say that, but the fact was, it found him.
She found him.
He didn’t remember exactly what it was that made her so attractive to him. Maybe it was because, underneath that quiet spirit, he saw a tiny part in her that would rather take on the world than worry too much about what it thought of her.
In any case, she was an added motivation – something that got him out of the funk he was in. But part of him still felt like anything less than the Championship for his effort was a failure.
Then, through some strange miracle, he had a family.
He remembered staring at that screen, the turquoise eyes of that little girl as she introduced herself to him – and with that, the reality that he had a home, somewhere he could go to and belong if nothing else worked.
The old commissioner gripped his hand and shook it, a smile etched on his wizened face. This old man had been Champion once. Matt wondered if, through that glint in his bespectacled eyes, R.J. McClellan was remembering himself as a teenager or young man, standing exactly where Matt was, shaking hands with the commissioner of his era. As Matt turned his eyes on Travis, he wondered if R.J. remembered vividly the name and face of the person that he battled in the finals match to have a shot at the Champion.
In any case, R.J. had lived to a ripe old age. Matt could only imagine that he did so by just going out there and doing it – not worrying so much about what might happen after failure…or after success, for that matter.
Free and easy. Win or lose…
Neither was the end of the world.
…continue…
