Well, it's not going to be entirely different. You might even recognize this introduction from the old one, lawl. I apologize to old readers that waited around for an update and get forced to re-read older chapters. But it needed to be done so I could insert more clues.
Ya! Lol. Enjoy!
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Chapter I
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“Brendan Birch, recent winner of the Hoenn Pokémon League, has been reported to have been shot late last night after his victory party. More details to come.”
“Brendan Birch, at the young age of fifteen years old, was shot last night around appropriately four o'clock this morning. Investigators say that-”
“The Pokémaster's Brunch today was canceled due to the attack on new Hoenn Pokémon Champion Brendan Birch. Condolences to him and his loved ones out there-”
"The question on everyone's mind today is: Who shot Brendan Birch? While this question remains-”
"Detectives are still not sure who and why someone would attack young Birch at four A.M. If you have any information, please contact our hot line at (745) 9-”
“Brendan Birch is currently being hospitalized at the Chansey Hospital in Rustboro. We are getting thousands of e-mails from Brendan's fans who are trying to console their grief. Take this one for example: It saddens me that after one day of being champion, people are already out to get him-”
“Turn it off!” a girl finally screamed before going into a fit of hysterical crying.
“May, they're just news reports,” muttered the boy next to her. Nevertheless, he turned the television off with the remote, causing the screen to fizzle and crackle. He then promptly threw the remote over his shoulder, causing it to collide with the wall behind him and get angry glares in return.
“But they keep repeating the goddamn awful news, Wally!” she wailed, clutching onto her tissue for dear life. “I just can't take hearing it anymore!”
“He's not dead,” muttered the boy named Wally, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you make it seem like it.”
“How are you staying so calm?” the girl demanded. “Wasn't he your friend?”
The boy sighed. “In a way,” he finally murmured.
- - -
“Don't we have to speak with Brendan at the hospital for evidence soon?” Officer Jacob muttered as he and Detective Tony bent over a bush in front of the Birch's home later on in the day. The noon sun shone overhead, beating down hard on their backs as Taillows twittered in the clear, blue sky.
“Let me rephrase that for you. Don't you have to speak with Brendan at the hospital for evidence soon?” the detective replied coolly, his gloved hands gripping the tweezers tightly in his hands. He carefully brushed away a few branches and twigs as to not upset the crime scene.
“Really?” the officer rolled his eyes, standing up and wiping his latex gloved hands on his dark pants. “You're going to make me do all the boring work while you get to play in the dirt?”
“It's not playing in the dirt. It's working in the dirt.”
“What's the difference?”
“I get paid.” Detective Tony carefully plucked a feather stuck on a thorn of a rose bush and stood up, showing it to Officer Jacob. “Feather,” he murmured, carefully placing it in a clear plastic bag and holding it up to the light. “Kind of whitish-silver, a thick shaft, puffy vanes ... Who's that Pokémon?”
“An Altaria?” Officer Jacob grabbed hold of the bag and cautiously examined it. “Skarmory?”
“Possibly, but it could have come from an older bird Pokémon. Like humans and their hair, bird Pokémon's feathers tend to turn grayish-white with old age.”
“So we're looking for either a bird Pokémon with silver or white wings or an experienced trainer.” Officer Jacob stepped outside of the Birch's rose garden, pebbles crunching underneath his feet and onto the dirt road. He squatted, looking at the tracks in front of him. They were huge for a Pokémon's footprint – about the size of a human's – with three toes. “There was some sort of Pokémon here that isn't a Taillow or Zigzagoon.” Pulling out a camera, he snapped a picture of them. “This guy wasn't stupid; he made sure his tracks were covered at least.”
Detective Tony stood up, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead, his eyes squinting from the sunlight. “Not quite,” he said, looking down and noticing the back of Jacob's shoes. “This garden is filled with tiny pebbles that can get caught in the grooves of shoes. If we can round up a reasonable amount of suspects, we can check their shoes. So go, Jacob! Go talk to Brendan and round up suspects like the good officer you are!” Jacob glared at Tony who smiled sheepishly in return. “Fine. Let me finish up here and we'll go together.”
“Aw mah god. It'll be like our first date!” Jacob squealed like a school girl.
Detective Tony carefully stepped around the rose bush closest to the window and examined it, pressing his latex-gloved hand against the cold glass where a bullet hole was formed. He took a picture of it before carefully running a finger down the shattered glass. “It wasn't from a far distance,” he murmured, running his finger around the bullet hole, “otherwise these line fragments around the bullet hole would have held a different shape. And let's be frank; if it were from far away, it would probably taken more than one shot.”
The detective carefully stepped out of the rose bush and stood next to Officer Jacob and then took his gun out from his holster, raising it arm's length away as if to envision the perpetrator. “Assuming his bird Pokémon was next to him for quick getaway, the suspect should have shot directly where I'm standing,” Tony said. “I'm six foot two and I'm a few inches taller from where the bullet entered the window.”
“So our suspect is around ... five foot eight, five foot nine?” Officer Jacob determined. “At least shorter than Brendan if all he hit was his shoulder.”
Detective Tony snorted. “All he hit?”
“You know what I mean.”
Shaking his head, Tony beckoned to a lower ranking police officer who quickly ran over. “Mind if you can encase these bird Pokémon's prints in concrete and give this feather to the lab to check what Pokemon this is?” He handed the enclosed feather to the police officer and pointed to the tracks a few feet away. “Oh, and try to look over the scene just in case we missed anything. Jacob and I need to run over to the hospital to check on our Mr. Birch.”
The lower ranking police officer nodded and saluted his higher ranking authority.
“Are you ready?” Tony asked his partner as the two watching the other police officer rummaged through a nearby van for supplies.
“To hear whining girls scream and parents ***** about why we're prodding around in their personal lives?” the officer replied with a grim smile.
“Of course.”
“Can't wait.”
- - -
The boy continued to tug on the sleeve of the girl collapsed on the couch as if this would budge her to stand up. “C'mon, May," he said through gritted teeth, annoyed with how stubborn the girl was. “Brendan's been
dying to see you!”
“Don't say that word!” the girl screeched, covering her ears, kicking the boy in the stomach with her foot.
The boy immediately released the girl from his grip and keeled over, coughing, clutching onto his stomach. “Ugh ...”
“Give May some time, Wally dear,” said an older lady in the corner, reading a magazine. She looked up and smiled. “She is feeling down since she was at Brendan's house a few minutes before the shooting happened. She'll see him in time.”
“When?” the boy asked stubbornly as he paced the rough carpeted floor. “He keeps asking to see her whether delirious from the medication or not.”
“Tell Brendan that May isn't feeling up to it right now-”
The older woman was interrupted as a flushed, middle-aged man burst through the doors of the hospital, sweat running from his dark hairline and down the side of his face. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his maroon jacket to make himself look more presentable before turning to the older woman. "Tried to get here as fast as I could,” he said, panting. “Heard the awful news from a video message from Professor Birch. Drove as fast as I could over here without running anyone over.” Walking over to the girl on the couch, he patted her head softly as if to soothe her before turning to the boy who was slowly regaining posture. “Where is he?” he asked sharply.
“The South ... Hall ... Room... 26 ...” the boy said between deep breaths.
The older man nodded as a way of thanks and walked swiftly down the dark hallway.
“Well, that was odd," the boy admitted, standing up fully.
“Oh, don't mind my husband,” the older woman with the magazine replied with a smile. “He's just tense that a boy he considers one of his sons was shot. Why don't you visit Brendan with him? I'm sure he could use a friend.”
“Heh, friend.” The boy shook his head but ran down the hallway toward Brendan's hospital room anyway. "The day I become friends with that kid ...”
Meanwhile, as the boy walked down the hallway, two familiar figures entered the hospital, one trying to organize papers while walking and the other nonchalantly removing his sunglasses from his face, pocketing them in the pocket of his dark slacks. The detective ran a cool hand through his tousled brown hair, his dark green eyes calmly taking in the room as his partner clumsily dropped a few papers, hastily picking them up and shoving them back in order. Sighing, he managed to finally clip the papers onto his clipboard, adjusting the square frames of his eyeglasses on his nose and taking off his cap to wipe off sweat, revealing his short, spiky black hair. The duo made their way to the blue marble counter top of the hospital's information desk where a nurse sat, busy chatting on the phone as she twirled the spiral wire of the phone with her index finger.
“Excuse me, miss,” the detective said, leaning on the counter and tapping a finger on the top. “I'm with the crime lab of Rustboro and we're here to see Mr. Brendan Birch. If you may, can you please tell us what room-”
“Just a minute,” the nurse interrupted, holding up a finger to shush the detective.
Detective Tony stared at the nurse sceptically. “Miss, I hate to be rude, but it won't take that much of your time. I just need the room of-”
“I said just. A. Minute,” the nurse said in harsh, short sentences. She then crossed her legs and sat back in her revolving chair, still twirling the phone's wire with her index finger and chatting on the phone, her open mouth chewing bubble gum.
Officer Jacob rolled his eyes as Detective Tony looked up toward the ceiling, whistling a tune to himself. Slowly, his eyes trailed down from the ceiling to the nurse, resting themselves on the rather large bosoms of the nurse. Smirking, he confidently stated, “You have some excellent badonkers there.”
The nurse, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, put her hand over the speaker of the phone and glared at the detective. “Excuse me?” she asked ludicrously.
“You heard me,” Detective Tony replied with a smug smile. “I bet you could smuggle three - no, four anorexic midgets in between those mountains.”
“Sir, I really don't think that's an appropriate-”
“You know, this awkward conversation could have been avoided if you've done your job and given us the room number for Brendan Birch,” the detective interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
Sighing, the nurse put the phone down on the counter top and flipped through some papers. Pulling one out from the stack, she read out loud: “Brendan Birch, room 26, south hall. It should be the very last room to your right.” She pointed to her left before picking up the phone, glaring at a contently smiling Detective Tony before continuing her phone conversation.
The officer and the detective swiftly walked down the south hallway, Officer Jacob shaking his head in shame. “You're such a pig. Don't you have children?”
“So what are you saying? I'm a pig because I have children or I shouldn't have children if I want to be a pig?”
“Whatever.”
Still smirking, the duo stopped in front of a tinted window at the end of the hallway, revealing the inside of room 26, Brendan Birch's hospital room. They carefully examined the room and the contents within it. The room was painted a cheery light blue with a small television mounted in the top right corner and an open window blowing a light breeze in through the white lace curtains. Beams of golden sunlight danced and bounced off the walls, landing directly on the head of a boy - probably Brendan - sitting up in bed. The boy stirring slightly, his dark red eyes slightly open. His right hand gently prodded his heavily bandaged left shoulder, visible underneath the thin, light green hospital robes, the wind running its fingers through his snowy-white hair. Around him were several people, looking at him anxiously.
“So who is who in this happy, little picture?” Detective Tony asked, resting a finger on his chin where light stubble poked through. He then pointed toward a man with dark-brown hair and large arm muscles covered in a long, white laboratory coat. “That's obviously Professor Birch, one of Hoenn's top Pokémon Researchers and the father of Brendan Birch. That woman with the short hair and clinging to the professor's arm is probably his wife and Brendan's mother.”
Officer Jacob tapped the window to direct their attention to the man at the foot of the bed who's hand were shoved deep in the pockets of his gray slacks, pushing the sleeves of his maroon jacket up, his ebony hair thickly gelled, not fazed by the breeze blowing through. “That's Norman, father of May Maple. Norman is also the gym leader of the Petalburg City.”
“Ah, so who's May Maple?”
The detective's question was quickly answered as the duo turned their head at the sound of thumping coming down the hallway. Speeding toward them was a girl, no older than the age of Brendan, tears streaming from her deep, blue eyes, her chestnut-brown hair unloosening itself from underneath her red and white bandanna. Her black biker shorts made a funny noise as she ran, the edge of her layered red and white t-shirt flapping behind her. She skidded to a stop in front of Brendan's room and quickly opened the door, wiping away tears with her white gloves before slamming the door behind her. The two noticed that her antics and her presence quickly grabbed the attention of the people within room 26. Her tears steadily falling from her eyes like a river, May pushed aside a boy and Norman and jumped on top of Brendan, making the detective and officer wince along with Brendan.
“That had to hurt,” Detective Tony said, his eye twitching.
- - -
“May!” Brendan managed to gasp out as the two toppled over onto his bed, wheezing, trying to catch his breath and ignore the pain the girl inflicted by pressing her head into his wounded shoulder. “Gah, help, please...”
“Okay, May, that's enough,” Norman muttered, shaking his head, prying the girl off her friend with the jaws of life. “May-
May!”
May held her death grip on the poor boy's arm, but eventually was pried free with the help of Wally. She looked at Brendan, a huge smile on her face, tears dripping down her cheeks as the boy groggily sat back up, rubbing the back of his head with his right hand. She clasped her gloved hands together, resting her chin on them. “Don't you ever scare me like that again, Brendan Birch! I was so scared! All these news reports, this smelly hospital, last night,
everything has freaked me out! You could have ... you could have-” She collapsed onto her knees, resting her head on Brendan's lap, sobbing, unable to speak coherent sentences.
Brendan rubbed May's back awkwardly but comfortably. “May, it's okay. I'm fine. I'm not dead.”
May's response was a loud sniffle as she continued to soak Brendan's hospital gown with her tears.
The people in the room continued to look and stand around in an awkward silence until another person luckily broke the silence with the opening creak of a door. Peeking his disheveled, silver-haired head in, a sharply dressed man entered, his steely gray eyes taking in the scene. Adjusting the collar of his dark orange shirt, he stood next to Norman, nodding at both the gym leader and Pokémon researcher in acknowledgment.
“Sorry I'm late,” the man apologized. “That Pokémaster's Brunch took longer than I thought.” He smiled at Brendan who grinned back in return. “How are you, Brendan?”
“As long as they keep giving me Vicodin, I'm fine,” the boy said jokingly. “Don't worry about me.” He then turned to his dad. “Dad, when can I leave? This place has some shitty-”
“No cussing!” his mother warned, glaring at him.
“...not delicious food,” Brendan finished, rolling his eyes.
Professor Birch shook his head. “Now Brendan, I want to make sure you're okay before we allow you to leave. I want the doctor's evaluation before you are even allowed to leave this room, let alone the hospital.”
"Dad! You make me sound like ... a car or something!" Brendan complained.
- - -
“Okay, and who is this green-haired kid?” Detective Tony asked outside the room, pointing at a boy standing next to the professor and his wife, clad in a loose, button up white shirt and khaki pants through the room's window.
Officer Jacob flipped through his notes. “Wally Wood, Pokémon trainer. He placed seventh in the Hoenn League, losing the fight to Brendan himself. The two have had a long time rivalry between each other. Another prime suspect.”
“Kind of like why we suspect May. She too has known Brendan for awhile and could have some ... hidden jealously underneath those tears,” the detective added. “Norman also could have tried to shoot Brendan out of feelings for his daughter.”
“I suppose. Anyone close to Brendan is fair play really.” Officer Jacob looked at Steven who was laughing along with Brendan. “Steven even with him being former Pokémon Champion of Hoenn.”
The detective sighed, walking past his partner and putting a hand on the silver doorknob of room 26. “Ready for this?” he uttered more to himself than his colleague.
The officer shrugged, stepping behind the detective, one hand in his pocket to pull out his badge. “Whenever you are.”
The detective felt all eyes rest on him as he opened the door and entered the room. “I'd hate to interrupt this happy scene,” Detective Tony muttered, brushing loose hair away from his eyes while pulling out his badge, “but I'm with the Rustboro Police Department's crime lab, and I need all of you to come down to the station.”
