#cheren achron | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 12 (Heart So Jetlagged)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

----------------------------

After fleeing into the tree line, Marlon and the rest of the Team Plasma members present had soon been greeted by a gust of cold air. Each of them fell still and looked around nervously. Marlon was unsurprised when he spotted the two members of the Shadow Triad on either side of their ragtag group, but he was still unsettled by it. He gulped and backed away from the closest one slightly.

“About time,” Lancaster, face covered by a red bandana, muttered. Gorm hissed something at him, and he flinched.

“Thank you for the assistance, brothers,” Gorm said wearily as he bowed a head respectfully at one of the members of the Shadow Triad. The two members of the Shadow Triad bore dark leather clothing that left their eyes, midsection, and silvery white hair exposed. They moved forward and pressed the Team Plasma group closer and closer together, and then touched their fingertips to the shoulders of Marlon and Gorm respectively.

With a nauseating, out-of-body sensation that made his legs feel as if they disconnected from the rest of his body for a moment, Marlon and the rest of the group was dumped on the shimmering, cold floor of the castle. The floor was made of black tiles outlined in pale white, which made the floor look as if it were glowing. The walls were stark white and the hall yawned overhead of them, much taller than any ceiling had any right to be. Pillars carried the roof and allowed the ridiculously tall castle to keep its shape.

Slowly, they all staggered back to their feet. Marlon rubbed his temple and watched as the Shadow Triad members disappeared and reappeared just a few seconds later, this time with a passenger. Everyone reacted with a start and the group bolted into a straight line. Sage Gorm was the only one to remain calm, as he clenched a hand around his injured arm and regarded the passenger, Sage Ghetsis, with a curt, respectful nod.

“Sage Ghetsis,” Sage Gorm began tentatively, “we apologize for the… events of that mission.”

Sage Ghetsis overlooked the group of Team Plasma members in front of him with a cold, crimson stare. He paced back and forth just ahead of them with his left hand behind his back, but not his right. His gait created a unique sound as he moved across the floor, a click and then the sound of a shoe dragging on a hard, smooth surface, giving the tiniest of squeaks. Some might have found it funny, or others might have felt sorry for the partially paralyzed man, but Marlon and his teammates knew better. The familiar sound of his footsteps and the realization that there was no gathered crowd of people around them brought them nothing but panic.

“What was that?” Sage Ghetsis asked at last. He paused his pacing to stare at Marlon.

“What was… what was what, Lord Ghetsis?” Marlon asked in a strangled whisper.

“That mission!” the elderly man barked at him. “At your lead, a Sage has been injured and you were found by a child, the Shadow Triad tells me!”

Marlon shrank away from his harsh words and cruel glare. This was the downside of leading tasks and of tests for one’s eligibility for status as defenseman. The higher responsibility also brought higher consequences for failure. All of Team Plasma’s members faced high stakes in their line of work, of course; their goals were radical, even if they were for the sake of bettering the lives of pokémon. They could not afford careless mistakes. Even so, knowing that didn’t quell the quickening thrum of his heart.

“Gym Leader Lenora was much more persistent than expected,” Marlon mumbled at last, forcing the Humilau accent and slang from his dialogue with visible effort. He didn’t meet Sage Ghetsis’ eyes and stared instead at the bottom of the sage’s cloak, fixating on the dull blue pattern of an eye. “Despite the smokebomb, she immediately sent a search party out, and we couldn’t move but so fast with the skull… And Gym Leader Burgh apparently was in town as well…”

“Excuses,” Sage Ghetsis spat breathlessly. He gulped in a breath of air and then got into Marlon’s face. It required him to bend over slightly, giving him the appearance of hunching over Marlon, due to his height. Marlon instinctively lowered his head and his back tensed like a coil ready to spring. “You are no defenseman today and you are lucky if I don’t feed you to Hydreigon as it is! A Normal- and Bug-type gym leader should not give you issues, nor should a gym challenger fresh to the scene!”

Marlon wanted to defend himself. Part of his brain screamed at him to do so. Gym Leader Lenora had gotten the jump on them, and had decided, in a shocking display, to send her Watchog after one of them rather than wait to battle them, and the challenger had been with Burgh when he discovered them. As Team Plasma members only used pokémon that they had taken in with the intention of rehabilitating them, none of them tended to have full teams, or even pokémon that were willing to battle; his squadron had owned perhaps ten pokémon between all of them. It was likely the two gym leaders and the challenger had owned a dozen or more.

Yet, as Ghetsis continued to descend on him, Marlon’s lips remained as tightly sealed as ever. Instincts may have told him to do otherwise, but he knew defending what had happened back there was a futile effort. Regardless of the cause, in the end, their mission had ended in failure. Even if they no longer needed the skull, three people that knew of Team Plasma’s involvement were now free to broadcast what had happened to the world.

“Now I have quite the mess to clean up thanks to you,” Ghetsis growled.

“S-sir… won’t… won’t it be easy to brush it off as extremists?” Lancaster piped up with a cracking voice.

“Perhaps,” Ghetsis mused, “or perhaps rumors could start spreading that shake our core. As much as I try to make the public see our sense, I cannot guarantee their cooperation all of the time. Which is why we take such care to make sure operations such as these go unnoticed!” Ghetsis turned back to Marlon and brought his left leg up, swiping Marlon’s feet from under him. The rest of the Team Plasma members next to him bolted away from him immediately, watching with wide eyes as he hit the glossy floor on his knees.

“I’ve given you chance and chance again, Marlon,” Ghetsis sneered. “It may have taken you a few tries, but you always got there in the end. I thought recently that maybe that phase was over, that you had learned to put Team Plasma first, keep your focus. Was I wrong? Did I misjudge you?”

That was a loaded question that sent Marlon’s mind whirling. Saying yes meant indirectly insulting Ghetsis’ intelligence. Saying no meant further implicating himself. Opting to stay silent, he gingerly touched his knees with his hands, wincing at the bolts of pain from where he had met the hard floor with his kneecaps. He recognized his failure… he knew why succeeding was so important… what more did Ghetsis want…?

“I see you’re not as stupid as you look,” Ghetsis remarked at his silence with a snicker of wicked amusement. “You’ll return to active duty as a footman. I hear Sage Bronius could use some assistance in Castelia City as of late with errands.”

Gorm chuckled and a couple of the grunts shifted uncomfortably. Marlon found himself more and more irritated with the situation. Why was he being mocked so harshly? Why was it funny to them? Again, he thought desperately, he understood where he had failed! He understood the importance!

Then Ghetsis leaned down to him, grabbing his chin and lifting his face to meet his dark red eye and glittering monocle. The left side of his mouth was turned up in a grin while the right side failed to emote at all. “I do love this part, I must admit,” Ghetsis exhaled the words almost lustily, in a way that made Marlon’s skin crawl. He clenched his eyes shut and every muscle in his body tensed. “I love watching when you have all recognized your error and come back stronger than ever before, understanding what you must do to become a valued member of Team Plasma once more. There’s nothing like it.”

That wasn’t at all what Marlon had picked up from the look in Sage Ghetsis’ trained, malevolent eye. Dawning on him slowly, he realized that Ghetsis had finally taken it too far; wool had been lifted from Marlon’s eyes. The look Ghetsis had just given him was the pleasured expression of someone that enjoyed humiliation and pain. That thought had sent his mind reeling, questioning how someone so cruel could then preach and believe such lofty ideals as releasing pokémon from the ownership of critical, dangerous trainers. In one swift moment, he had concluded this: there was no way someone like that could believe ideas based in such empathy.

It was as if he was seeing the entirety of Team Plasma in a new light. It was too much for his mind to comprehend in that moment, and so he let Ghetsis demean him, allowed the scene to play out, all while he swallowed hard to try and keep from fainting in cold, icy fright. If what he was thinking were true, then…

It was just too horrible to think about. Beyond the personal implications for himself, sadness weighed down on his shoulders as he came to understand the idea he had fought for over the course of the last five years had likely been for nothing. Marlon truly had questioned the morality of people ‘owning’ pokémon, and he had seen firsthand actual pokémon abuse. His Tirtouga had come from a trainer that regularly neglected it to the point its shell had begun to deteriorate in a process known as ‘pyramiding.’ He truly believed changes needed to be made to how people viewed their fellow pokémon and had thought liberation sounded like a splendid way to change it, allow pokémon to be seen as equals, the class-like barriers broken…

Was he alone in this? he thought despairingly. Was this just a path to a lonesome defeat, no matter how he sliced it? What did this mean of Lord N, who had seemed so determined to meet that goal as well? Was he a fraud, too, or was he just as duped as Marlon had been? Those thoughts were by far the most sickening of the ideas racing through his mind.

“Get up,” Ghetsis snorted contemptuously at him. “I’m not done with you yet.”

--------------

Bianca had managed to convince Hil and Cheren to remain in Nacrene City for a while following the Nacrene City Museum fiasco. She had bounced excitedly up and down as Cheren and Hil woke up, declaring that she had met some friends while they had been busy dealing with the theft, and she wanted them to meet her new friends. Hil had jokingly tossed a pillow her way and then used the second to cover his head.

“Five more minutes,” Hil complained. His entire body felt sore and somehow, he was still tired.

“Who are these friends?” Cheren had asked guardedly.

“Oh, come on! You’ll like them,” Bianca whined. Hil felt his pillow hit his hips and Noodle fell off his side with a hiss. “Oh! I’m sorry, Noodle!” Bianca immediately apologized. Hil moved the pillow from over his head and looked at her as she rushed over to apologetically pet the Snivy, who appeared to have already forgotten the cause of her remorse. Hil rolled his eyes at them and then jolted to sit upright as the rest of his pokémon flooded the bed after Bianca. Roadie the Patrat scurried up her arm and chattered excitedly around her ears.

“Your Disney princess entourage says no more minutes,” Bianca teased him. “They’re probably hungry and stuff. Besides, I think you’d really like to meet some of them!”

She continued to harp on about the idea until Cheren and Hil both relented. Hil wasn’t sure why Cheren had reservations over the idea. He had only been difficult because he was still tired after the exhausting day he’d had yesterday. His tiredness was all but forgotten as he remembered the badge he had been given yesterday and he excitedly added it to his badge case. It would have been easy for him to be upset that Lenora had seemed to just give it to him rather than make him fight for it, but after the favor he had performed for her yesterday, he selfishly thought he had more than earned that square of metal. He tucked the badge case away again and readied himself to meet Bianca’s friends.

Once he and Cheren were decent (Bianca had apparently gotten ready long before waking either of them), she eagerly helped them gather their things and discharge from the hostel room. She chattered away at them as she led them away from the Pokémon Center and toward one of the studio apartments down the road. Hil tried to keep up with her, but for once, he was lagging behind and his comments fell flat. Cheren had seemed to perk up at her excitement, and they held a conversation he felt completely out of place in. Once again he brought up the rear of the group and with a pang of loneliness, wondered if he’d ever find someone he could talk to as easily as Cheren and Bianca did with one another.

Sure, he was good friends with both, but it seemed like they had a connection on another level he wasn’t invited into. Hil could be quite outgoing if he wanted to, contrary to what his actions might have suggested thus far; prior to Vince’s accident, he had always been someone to know the name of every other person his age in town. But Vince’s accident had seemed to bring a curtain over every opportunity at friends he felt he had. Everyone’s decided treatment of him following the incident made making friends feel awkward, forced, and uncomfortable, to the point if they reacted strongly to who he was, he wouldn’t even try to make friends with them.

Perhaps that was why he had reacted so strongly to N’s declaration they could never be friends back in Accumula Town. Someone that had known nothing about him or his father had just decided, on conspiratorial ideas surrounding the usage of pokémon, that he wasn’t worth befriending. The thought brought a rush of heat over his entire body and he squared his shoulders slightly. The nerve of that man! And he felt especially angry at himself for having all but forgotten his anger in a bid to try and make N see the fault in viewing him that way back at the museum. Thank Arcues Cheren had been there, he thought bitterly.

“We’re here!” Bianca exclaimed. Hil paused and watched as she knocked on the door. Right away, it swung open, revealing a guy that looked to be about their age with rusty red hair and brilliant green eyes. He beamed at Bianca and threw his right arm out wide, the left still clutching the door.

“Bianca! You’re here! These your friends?” he asked curiously, craning his neck to look at Cheren and Hil. Hil curiously stared right back, his train of thought abandoned at the sight of the new guy.

“Yeah! Church, these are my friends Cheren,” Bianca prodded Cheren’s nose as she pointed him out making him swat her away with a flustered glare, “and that’s Hil! Hil, come say hi!”

“Hi,” Hil echoed stupidly without a second thought. Something seemed to breathe life into him as he hopped eagerly over to Bianca at the doorway. “I’m Hil! What’s your name?”

Noodle, curled around his shoulders as per usual, chittered at the guy at the door happily.

“Aw, that Snivy’s so cute!” the guy beamed again. Hil felt like a weight disappeared from his shoulders when he saw the guy made no reaction to his name, which told him he probably didn’t know about Hil’s relation to Vince, if he even knew about Vince’s accident. “Nice to meet you, Hil! I’m Churchill, but my friends just call me Church.”

Right, right, Bianca had just said his name… Hil chuckled in a little embarrassment.

“Anyway, you three come inside!” Church nodded, moving away from the door. Bianca rushed in after him and Hil followed hot on her heels, though he trailed Church through the apartment. It was at a respectful distance, but still obvious to everyone else. Upon entering, he noted that there were three others, girls, scattered throughout the apartment situated in front of canvases and drawing pads. Guiltily, he paid them little mind, drawn instead to the boisterous redhead, Church.

“So, Bianca tells me you two are on the gym challenge,” Church said to break the ice. He settled at a countertop in the far right of the room, peering just past a refrigerator to speak to everyone else in the room. His hair was well-combed but fell over his forehead messily and he pressed a palm lazily to his chin to hold his head up. “How’s that going? I hear the triplets and Lenora can be a real hurdle for new guys. Most give up on them.”

Hil opened his mouth to respond, but Cheren cut him off. Hil shut his mouth again to let his friend speak. That was just easier. Despite Cheren speaking, however, Hil only continued to stare at Church.

“The triplets were a little difficult because of that Work Up strategy,” Cheren stated thoughtfully. He had taken a seat on a navy couch next to Bianca, having scooted quite close to her, not that she seemed to mind as she shared hushed whispers with one of the girls that was drawing. “Really teaches one the importance of moves that aren’t just sheer power.” He then sighed. “Lenora, on the other hand… ugh, she was just strong. Honestly, if she didn’t use Take Down so much and wear her own team out with it, I feel like she’d have won. I really need to train more.”

Church nodded thoughtfully and then turned those flashing green eyes to Hil. “What about you?”

Hil couldn’t come up with a cohesive way to tell his story, and instead it came out as more of a stammering avalanche of words. “Well, I had to try against the triplets twice because I got nervous in front of the crowd but they weren’t that bad… Chili was really nice… yeah I faced him because my starter’s Snivy… Lenora, uh, I actually didn’t battle her… well I was going to! But then the whole thing happened yesterday and Burgh arrived and, you know, the smokebomb…”

“Whoa, whoa,” Church laughed, “slow down, I can barely understand you.” He cocked his head at Hil slightly and winked at him. “Don’t go getting nervous on us now, we’re art kids. We set the bar for what weird is.”

Hil snickered loudly at that and then cleared his throat to cut off the awkward laughter. “Uh… well… Lenora had me help with the incident at the museum yesterday,” he finally explained, “and she… she gave me a badge for that.”

“Whoa, you got to help out a gym leader?” one of the girls asked as she turned away from her canvas. She had darker skin and thick black hair. “That’s awesome! Some say that’s a way more genuine way of earning a badge than just a battle. Anyone can battle, but impressing a gym leader’s a big deal.”

Hil’s cheeks flushed with a twinge of red and he smiled awkwardly after her. “Th-thanks…”

Church hit a hand against the countertop excitedly. “Damn right it is! What did you do, man?”

Hil blinked fervently at him and swallowed. “What… what did I do what?”

Church howled in laughter, throwing his head back. “I like this guy. Where’d you find him?” he asked Bianca.

“Known him my whole life,” Bianca shrugged, giggling.

“Oh, another Nuvema kid,” Church nodded agreeably. “Nice little town. Shame what happened to that guy from it, though, in Castelia. I know some mates from Castelia that say he was a really good dude, no matter what those idiots on the news say.” He paused and slicked back some hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Me and my friends here are from Mistralton ourselves.” He rolled his eyes and imitated a plane sound poorly, earning laughter from everyone else in the room. “It’s so boring up there! And cold. And there’s nobody there. So that’s why we came down to Nacrene to try and express ourselves some. Find our path, you could say. We’re on our own journey! An artsy one, but still.”

Hil was hanging onto his every word. Not only did he barely know anything about Vince, but he didn’t feel strongly about it in any way. He was funny and charming and… it was so much different from trying to meet new people back at Nuvema, Accumula, or Striaton.

“Nothing much going on back in Nuvema, either,” Cheren chuckled. “Though, I can’t say the same about any town after that. Seems like we’ve had our run-in with crazy every which way we go. Team Plasma’s a real riot.”

“Dude, Team Plasma is wild,” Church agreed. “Kris! Tell them what you told me about your mom,” he said, turning to the last of the three girls, a platinum blond painting away with intense concentration etched in her pale face.

“My mom’s in the police force of Iccirus City,” she said quietly without ever looking away from her painting. Hil thought he recognized the subject as a Swadloon. “She says that there’s been all sorts of reports over bad stuff with them, but…” she trailed off and fell silent for a few seconds. She paused her painting at last and set the thin brush she had been using to the side. “She says that the police as a whole have no idea what to do about them. They just don’t have the resources to do a probe investigation,” she sighed. “And every time they go after individual people accused of committing crimes, they seem to vanish without a trace. You know, they took Stoutland out to track them once, a huge pack of them, and they still couldn’t find them. It was like the tracks just dropped off at one point, like they flew away or just blipped out of existence.”

“That’s not to even mention how the Pokémon League Staff have more sway over law than the government does,” Church picked up with an amused snort. “Which, since Team Plasma’s always at odds with them… that means lots of people just think the League wants to shut Team Plasma up.”

Kris crossed her arms and nodded.

Hil frowned. “S-so, you’re saying, they just… don’t have the ‘infrastructure’ to check out Team Plasma for real?”

“Nope,” Church shrugged. “Nobody’s got any idea where they’re based at, either. The news is crazy about this stuff, dude, y’all wanna check it out sometime?”

“Maybe not right now,” Cheren intervened with a sigh. “We’ve been running into those idiots ever since we left Nuvema Town. I was hoping to forget about them for the day.”

Hil could agree with that sentiment. He wanted to hear more of what Church had to say aside from Team Plasma. They spent the entire day there, joking and talking about everything under the sun. Hil discovered Church was a musical artist rather than a visual one, and he was a fantastic dancer as well. Much to Hil’s dismay, he enthusiastically tried to get Hil to dance at one point, eagerly offering pointers and tips to try and untangle Hil’s nervous feet.

“Aww, c’mon, you’ve got the perfect build for a dancer,” Church pouted as Hil pulled away from him at last. His entire body was trembling, but Hil didn’t truly want to leave. He just wasn’t comfortable with the spotlight. “Noodle’s cute too. The audience loves a cute sidekick pokémon.” Church winked at him and Hil looked away quickly.

“S-sorry, I just don’t dance,” Hil stuttered. “Uh, why don’t… why don’t you sing something for us?”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Kris shot from the other end of the apartment.

“You’re just jealous,” Church sang. He then narrowed his eyes knowingly at Hil. “But sure, I can sing.”

“Here we go,” Kris complained resignedly.

“Don’t you wanna get away from the same old part you’ve gotta play,” Church opened up with a loud verse from a song Hil had never heard before. He yelped when Church then grabbed him by both hands and forced him into a dance of sorts, though Hil flailed and struggled to keep up. “’Cause I’ve got what you need, so come with me, and take the ride…”

“It’ll take you to the other siiide!” Bianca exclaimed gleefully from the couch. “You sound amazing, Church!”

Church laughed and cut himself off from singing. “Hit it, Bianca!” he beamed. He finally let go of Hil, but not without casting another amused glance his way. “You good, Hil?”

Hil realized his face was burning red and he stumbled as he tried to straighten himself out following the performance. Noodle dove off his shoulders and scurried over to Cheren and Bianca on the couch, looking at him in a way that seemed a cross between disappointed and embarrassed. Yeah, me too, Hil thought in amusement. He adjusted his hat over his wild brown hair and offered a thin smile at Church. “Y-yeah, I’m fine!”

Church then snatched Hil’s hat by the visor and tossed it on his head. With a playful grin, he booked it into the living room area of the apartment, away from Hil.

“Church, will you stop being a cat,” the girl drawing next to the couch whined. “Give the kid his hat back.”

Hil hadn’t moved from the spot, bewildered by the playfulness aimed his way.

“Aww, I’m just having fun,” Church whined. He leaned over the counter again, still with Hil’s hat, and tilted it cutely over his head. “I think it suits me.”

Hil had to agree. It definitely suited him.

--------------

When the day came at last that they were to leave Nacrene City, Hil had to admit, he really didn’t want to go. Cheren had finally complained after two weeks following the museum incident that they needed to move on. Bianca and Hil had added their new friends’ numbers to their Xtransceivers, but Hil couldn’t shake the fear he’d never see them again from his mind. At first, he had fought Cheren on the notion, but Cheren had insisted they needed to travel to actually complete the gym challenge. Hil knew he was right, and Hil could recognize that his own pokémon were getting anxious to move on, but it didn’t ease his worries by much.

For the first time in ages, he had called someone else on the Xtransciever. On the day he, Cheren, and Bianca planned to leave, he had lagged behind and sat just outside of the Pokémon Center. He selected Church’s number from the few options in his contacts and opted to leave it on a video call. He never thought he’d have seen the day again where he called someone else on the Xtransceiver for a video chat. Church answered almost right away, with the camera stupidly close to his emerald eyes.

“Hil!” he exclaimed once he recognized him. Only then did he pull away from the screen some. “Hey! You guys are leaving Nacrene today, right?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to call some before I headed out,” Hil chuckled.

“Good!” Church retorted with a smirk. “You better remember to come visit every now and then, you hear? And call! I answer! Unlike some people.”

“Shut up,” Kris’s distant voice called.

Laughing, Church turned back to Hil. “Well, anyway, I’m guessing your friends are eager to get out of here by now. Good luck, Hil! Call and let me know how future gym battles go!”

Hil nodded and said a few other things before the call was over. He sighed as he defeatedly pushed the device back into his pocket. Noodle trilled and rubbed his face against Hil’s cheeks. “I know, I’m being silly,” Hil muttered. “Just… worried I won’t find anyone else like that, you know?”

Noodle gave a low rumbling noise that resembled a purr, and Hil felt comforted. He hugged the Snivy close as he got to his feet and decided to head for Pinwheel Forest, where Cheren and Bianca were undoubtedly waiting for him.

2 notes · View notes

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Retold: Black - Chapter 27 (Race to Twist Mountain)

FFN | AO3

Reblogs, comments/reviews, etc, all welcome!

-------------

Huffing for air, Hil scrambled after Cheren, frantically searching for footholds in the ground. They were climbing a steep hill and Bianca was lagging even further behind. Hauling himself up to the ledge Cheren had led them to at last, Hil panted and collapsed onto his back. Noodle squeaked and hopped free of Hil’s hood right away, shooting Cheren an annoyed hiss. “Hey, Cheren, quick question,” Hil asked breathlessly, “why are we climbing this far in if we’re just here to bond with your pokémon?”

“Well, we don’t need to just bond, we need to get a move on as well,” Cheren said matter-of-factly.

...

-------------

[Read more using the links above!]

#pokemon #pkmn #pokemon retold #pokemon retold: black #cheren achron #cheren #bianca goode #bianca #hil whitacre #hilbert whitacre #hilbert #hil #twist mountain #noodle the servine #noodle #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

1 note · View note

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 9 (Thread the Needle)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

----------------------------

Hil spent the next week training along Route Three.

He stopped at Striaton City’s Pokémon Center often and stayed there overnight. Even if he often heard whispers and received awkward stares, he had no intentions of going to Nacrene City just yet. He knew Cheren and Bianca would likely spot him, and he just didn’t want to talk to them. As angry and hurt as he had been at Cheren in Wellspring Cave, he had understood Cheren’s concerns. In fact, he had even agreed with him. He just had no solution for the problem at the time.

His mind had settled on a simple plan: train, train, and train. Do it alone. He hoped that he would be able to manage on his own, and if he got into a tough spot, desperation would force him to keep from locking up. At first, he and his pokémon had been forced back to the Pokémon Center almost hourly, but after a while, he found a groove and was able to remain for longer stretches of time. His pokémon seemed to appreciate the one-on-one interactions they received, at least. He had even managed to catch a Blitzle after repeated, failed attempts at acquiring one.

The Blitzle, a male one, had an arrogant air about him. He had been lazy and disinterested in battle and that had been what allowed Hil to catch him. Hil had offered him the chance to leave following his capture since he seemed angry at having been caught, but at the last second, the Blitzle had seemed to change its mind and bumped its muzzle against Hil’s right palm. Hil had smiled uneasily and thanked him for agreeing to stay. Due to his haughty nature, Hil had jokingly called him ‘Prada,’ and the name stuck.

It was day eight when Hil awoke in his hostel room to his Xtransceiver ringing wildly. He ignored it at first, as he always did, with the hopes the other person would get the hint and leave him alone. Yet, after ten minutes or more of successive rings, Hil’s anxiety kicked in and he sat up, dazedly reaching for the device. He found it was a mixed effort of Cheren and Bianca both calling him. He flopped back down in the bed before sliding his finger across the ‘Answer’ button.

His face appeared on the bottom left screen. His unkempt, oily hair, whipped into every which way, indicated way more obviously than he’d have liked that he hadn’t showered in the last two days. “Sup,” Hil mumbled groggily.

“Hil!” Bianca exclaimed. “You finally answered! I’ve been so worried!”

Her voice echoed. He could tell she was with Cheren in the same spot and they had both just been making a concentrated effort to annoy him into answering. He supposed it had worked.

“Yeah? I’ve just been training on Route Three some,” Hil yawned.

Again, it was Bianca who spoke. Cheren didn’t seem to even be looking at his Xtransceiver. “Well, you scared us! We thought you might have been hurt when you kept refusing to answer and you never showed up in Nacrene,” she whined. She tilted her head and glanced at Cheren. After a short pause, she stamped a foot and tapped him in the shoulder. “Hey! Speak up!”

Cheren winced at her touch and shot her a dirty look. He nervously glanced up at the Xtransciever and away again. “I’m sorry for what I said in Wellspring Cave,” he mumbled at last through what sounded like a mouthful of cotton. “I lost my cool. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again.”

Hil tossed his left arm over his forehead, blotting out his view of them and their view of his face. “Don’t say that, Cheren,” Hil sighed. “I mean, I appreciate the apology, but what I meant is… you weren’t wrong, really. It is scary that I freeze up like that and that’s gonna be a big problem if I don’t deal with it. That’s why I went off the radar. I wanted to practice without having anyone to fall back on for a while but myself. Hoped it might force me to see reason even if I was having a freeze-up.”

“…Did it?” Cheren asked quietly.

Hil thought about that for a second as he moved his arm from his face. He hadn’t really had but one or two moments in his training throughout the week where he truly froze, and both times, his pokémon had taken up for him. At least, Noodle had. Rather than continue to panic alongside Hil and wait for him to issue commands, the Snivy had taken it upon himself to react when Hil began to lose his focus; he seemed to default to a Vine Whip, and then would lightly tap Hil’s legs with the vines as well to try to regain his attention. Interestingly enough… it had worked. Noodle had to repeat his ministrations a few times, but it always worked.

“I think so,” Hil answered finally.

“So, nothing bad happened while you were out there?” Bianca asked worriedly. Suddenly, he felt very annoyed with that question. It sounded as if Bianca were being protective at him. While part of him wanted to be appreciative, what little pride he had was wounded at the implication he needed guarding by her.

“Nope,” was all Hil answered her with. She didn’t deserve his vitriol. “I caught a Blitzle, though. His name’s Prada.”

“That’s awesome!” Bianca beamed. “Where are you at, anyway? You look like you’re in a bed, but we haven’t seen you in Nacrene.”

“You look like you slept on your head and forgot what a shower was as well,” Cheren added dryly.

“Ha ha,” Hil sneered, “yeah, I’m in Striaton City’s hostel. Was able to convince them to let me have a room alone.” Hil curled his lips a little and mockingly said, “Perks of being the kid of a dead gym trainer man.”

Bianca visibly cringed at that statement, but shook it off within seconds. “W-well, we’re at Nacrene, if you want to meet us here! Cheren already won his badge from Lenora. We were waiting on you to come along and have your battle before we left!”

Hil blinked. “You were?”

“Yeah. We left Nuvema together, didn’t we? Why split up now?” Cheren questioned. “Not gonna let one little fight ruin us, are we? We’ve had worse spats, I think,” Cheren laughed a little nervously.

Hil chuckled. “You have a point… okay. I’ll get ready and meet you guys in Nacrene in…” Hil glanced at the time in the corner of the Xtransceiver’s screen. It was currently 10:12 AM. Oh boy, he had sure slept in. “…Probably about noon,” he said half-heartedly. “Sorry, I had no idea I slept in so late…”

“You always sleep in late,” Cheren mused.

“We’re away from home, who cares? Sleep as late as you want!” Bianca giggled.

Cheren scowled at her. “That is not healthy life advice.”

“Thanks Daddy, always lookin’ out for us,” Hil grinned.

With that, Cheren hung up and Bianca squealed something incoherent, laughed, and quickly wished Hil farewell before hanging up as well. Hil felt relief welling in his chest. He hadn’t realized how badly he had missed talking to them and how painful it had been to actively ignore them over the course of even just the week. He had known Cheren and Bianca his entire life, and he looked forward to putting that spat behind them.

----------------------------

Castelia City had felt suffocating recently. It was a new feeling to the happy-go-lucky gym leader of the most bustling, lively city in Unova. The open, winding streets and various shops that had once felt warm and inviting now felt restricting, like the straps to a straitjacket, and he, the loose cannon of a patient. He had opted to leave the city for a while. He still had rights to a studio in Nacrene City and although he had allowed some younger artists to use it for the time being, they had been ecstatic at the idea of having him back for a while. Their exuberance had been welcome. Burgh didn’t feel like he was anyone’s favorite person anymore, but their reaction had made him feel wanted.

Many would tell you Burgh was the cavalier, artsy gym leader of Castelia City, enjoying life at its fullest and encouraging his gym trainers and challengers to do the same. They would proclaim him as easily the most upbeat of the entire Unovan Pokémon League Staff, they would celebrate his portfolio of art, and lightly tease his fondness for Bug-types. They may have whispered about his occasional artists’ block and how he’d travel to Nacrene City to escape it on occasion, since he had started his art career as a lost, lonely art student in one of its outrageously expensive studios.

More recently, however, one may have found a wildly different picture of Burgh painted by the brush of news anchors: the ignorant, careless gym leader that did not notice the light fading in one of his students. A callous, pompous artist who no longer concerned himself with the emotions of others unless it suited him for public viewing.

It had all stemmed from the sudden suicide of a gym trainer of his named Vincent, or as he had preferred to be called, Vince. Burgh also felt the blame aimed his way was highly unfair because he never had any idea Vince was struggling. Vince was more outgoing than many of his other trainers, he joked often, he loved to pretend he really was a court jester in alignment with their funny clown outfits… He had seemed so excitable and happy. Sure, Burgh had been aware Vince had an unpleasant home life, but the gym had seemed to lighten his day up. No matter how many times he scrutinized his time spent with Vince at the gym, he could never come up with an ounce of evidence pointing to the idea that Vince was struggling with such bitter demons.

The closest thing to evidence he had come up with was that sometimes, Vince showed up in unkempt clothes, the scent of coffee strong on his breath, and his eyes glazed over dazedly. It had given Burgh the impression that he may have been hungover, but what was he supposed to have done about that? Vince was a grown man, and while he preferred his trainers to show up unintoxicated, there was no official rule about it. The only time anyone was asked to sit to the side for those reasons was if they were actively disrupting instruction or clearly not in their right mind. He hadn’t had an incident like that with any of his students, well… ever. Vince had always joked about his uneasy state whenever he arrived like that, and Burgh had just joked back, thinking that’s what Vince had wanted.

Insulted was a kind way to put how the media’s lashings made him feel. Burgh prided himself on offering help to others and indeed, his passion for art had grown from a desire to show off the beauty of everyday mundanities to others in a bid to brighten their lives. His love for Bug-types had sprung from a youth spent sympathizing with them for how most considered them gross and unsightly. He had striven to show they were just as deserving of love as any other pokémon. As any other living creature.

Over the course of three short months, the media was running his name into the ground. Truth be told, not everyone believed it; Burgh had personally touched the lives of many people and his status as gym leader meant that many had difficulty even considering the possibility of the sensationalist stories being right. Even so, the small group of people who believed it were very real. An odd glare here, a hurried, husky whisper there… Burgh was not blind nor was he deaf to the hike in public criticisms. He could have marched up to them and demanded they stop spreading such nonsense—indeed, he could have even gone to the news stations themselves and order them to stop spreading such insidious stories—but he knew that would only worsen his reputation. He had begged other League Staff that had wanted to defend his honor to leave the subject alone and let it blow over. It seemed like it would never blow over, though…

On top of all of that, crime was on a minor rise in Castelia City, and he knew the source of it. Robberies, though only of relatively small amounts of cash, were being reported. The culprit was described as a mid to older teenager that used pokémon wordlessly and seamlessly in his thievery. Burgh had known immediately who they spoke of and although he had not exactly been interested in divulging that information to police (nor was he required to), guilt had pressed him to offer those stolen from some compensation. He earned plenty of money from his art as well as his job as a gym leader. He played off their confusion as him simply wanting to be a good citizen.

Meanwhile, he really was just trying to lessen the heat on the robber. Burgh had met the boy, Taven, some years ago, by chasing him through the streets of Castelia and well into the sewers after hearing stories of a mysterious young man robbing grocery stores for food and other menial supplies. He had grown frustrated with the chase and had his Leavanny use String Shot to tie him up, force him to stop. Until that point, Taven had been mostly silent save for the occasional grunt, but upon finding himself trapped, he yelped and began to struggle madly against the bindings. The fright in his dark, slate eyes had given Burgh some pause. That was a notable change from the careful, almost smug expression he had seen earlier.

Initially, he had intended to calm the young boy down, and then take him to social services where he would personally oversee how they handled his case. Yet, as Burgh and his Leavanny had drawn closer, Taven had glared up at him with an almost feral look of fear and snapped, “No!” He then had jerked with so much might in his attempt to free himself that he had lifted himself nearly completely off the ground. The panicked effort had seemed to sap most of his strength, as when he stopped, he had been panting wildly. “They need me!” he had gasped, his voice cracking in the last word. He had squeezed his eyes shut at that point.

An Oshawott had then scurried from the sewer water and jumped in front of Taven, brandishing a shell in its tiny arms. Unlike most Oshawott Burgh had met, who looked as if they had no idea where they were most of the time, this one had been dangerously focused. Rattata soon had followed and begun to gnaw away at Taven’s silken prison. Zubat then swooped from the darkest recesses of the arching ceiling and had descended on Burgh in a swirl of beating wings and screeching. His Leavanny had managed to scare them off, but by that point, Taven had been long gone. A pile of shredded silk had been all that remained.

After that, it had been a long road of carefully gaining the boy’s trust, and coming to the unspoken agreement he would not try to remove him from his home. Even if Taven’s home was literally the Castelian Sewers, he seemed happy there, and he had never forgotten the sheer panic and conviction in Taven’s voice that first meeting. Taven truly believed he was all that looked out for the pokémon that called Castelia’s sewers and alleyways home. Burgh knew that although integrating him back into society would have likely been best for him physically, Taven would have hated every second of it. The more he learned of the petty thief, the more he saw him as his own son, and felt a stronger desire to help and protect him where he could without forcing his hand. Taven… was complicated, but Burgh knew he had a good heart. After all, despite his downfalls, Taven’s primary motives were rooted in helping abandoned and starving pokémon around Castelia City.

Except recently, he feared that was taking a turn. Robberies performed by Taven up until that point were done to take care of himself or his pokémon. Clothes, food, the occasional creature comfort—but these robberies were simply for cash, and although nobody was ever hurt, the details from the victims showed that Taven was not afraid of threatening the victims to get them to listen to him. Burgh liked to believe he didn’t have a truly violent bone in his body, but…

He sighed. He was wondering if he knew what anything really was anymore.

Suffice to say, he was looking forward to heading to Nacrene City, and hoped to get some coffee with Lenora and Hawes while he was there. They were a lovely couple to hang out with and Lenora typically inspired him with her discussion of new artifacts that had been given to her museum for curation. He had a habit of over-blowing details in his artwork of ancient pokémon she described, but she seemed to enjoy his work, nonetheless.

He was walking the straightforward route through Pinwheel Forest. The buzzing of life from within its depths always made him feel a little introspective, he thought with a snicker. It was where he had met the majority of his pokémon. He often escaped to the Pinwheel Forest whenever he wanted to draw as a child and that habit had not fled him even as he grew older. This was not his destination, however, so he pushed through the last of the canopied pathway and found himself on the neatly trimmed path that connected Pinwheel Forest and Nacrene City. A beautiful fountain circled by pathway appeared in front of him as he walked and he decided to take a breather on one of the benches next to it. He listened carefully to the Pidove cooing overhead and the distant calls of Patrat chuffing at threats in the distance, likely telling the rest of their pack of a prowling Purrloin.

He breathed in the clean air. It smelled strongly of the nearby forest and a little swampy. Parts of Pinwheel Forest were marshland, after all. Already he was feeling the prickle at his fingertips to begin to sketch as a loose, indescribable image formed in his head. All of his art started that way, as a nondescript blur in the back of his mind, and it was his hand that sketched it into proper form. After a few seconds of waiting to regain his stamina, he was off again. He’d have to settle into his studio and then go meet Lenora before he could be free to camp out in the forest for a day.

------------------------------------

He had only just noticed her before she came barreling at him at top speed, enveloping him in a tight hug. She was a lot stronger than he remembered. Hil staggered at Bianca’s hold and laughed when he stumbled as she let him go. Cheren strode up to him next with his arms crossed. Hil gave him a small smile. Noodle, on the other hand, practically danced on his shoulders in excitement as he recognized Hil’s two friends.

“Yeah, that’s them, buddy,” Hil chuckled. He snorted as Noodle finally opted to climb onto his hat and lean down on Hil’s visor to get a better look at them. Cheren snorted and awkwardly reached his right hand out to pet the bouncy Snivy.

“So, are you wanting to try and take on Gym Leader Lenora?” Cheren asked idly as he continued to rub Noodle.

“I guess I could try. We were training for a while out there…” Hil glanced at the visor of his hat. “Noodle, you think we’re ready to fight the next gym?”

Noodle peered over the visor, sticking his nose into Hil’s face, and chirruped. Hil felt his tail gently thwap against his head a few times. He laughed and moved to grab Noodle’s tail to steady him. “Easy, pal, that’s my head, Arceus knows I’ve got enough brain damage,” he giggled.

“Would you stop,” Bianca complained as she gently swatted at his arm. Cheren took a step back.

“Stop what?” Hil asked, genuinely confused.

“Saying stuff like that,” she huffed. “That’s mean.”

“It’s about me, though.” Hil really was clueless as to what she was getting at.

“Exactly, stop saying mean stuff about yourself,” she said, nodding. Hil dubiously agreed that he would, but really he didn’t see anything wrong with it. It was funny. He was allowed to have some humor about his situation, wasn’t he? That familiar feeling of irritation picked at his chest. When was everyone going to stop shoving their ideas of how he should handle it onto him?

“Anyway,” Cheren interjected sharply, “if you want to challenge Lenora, we’d better get there soon.” He adjusted his glasses and turned to face further into Nacrene City. Hil noticed the cityscape behind his friend was mainly that of dark wood and faded stone structures. It looked old, but lively, with people bustling from the various apartments and studios. “Gym Leader Lenora only takes trainers at certain times of the day since she works as the Museum Curator.”

With that, the three friends headed toward Nacrene City’s museum and gym. It was a large, stately building visible from well across the other side of the city, but as they drew nearer, they noticed a crowd of people gathered in front of it. It was easily two or three times as large as the one that had blossomed in Accumula Town for the Team Plasma speech there. Yet, it soon became clear that was exactly what this was. To the left of the museum’s entrance, a group of seven or eight silver robed men stood proud. Just like in Accumula Town, two on either end of their makeshift stage proudly displayed flags bearing Team Plasma’s insignia, while a man in darker, rounder robes paced back and forth between them. He had a tall, round hat and gray, grizzled hair spilled out from beneath it.

“This looks good,” Cheren grumbled as they all slowed to a stop at the back of the crowd.

“We call ourselves friends, or benevolent caretakers,” the elderly man was saying, his voice rising in volume, “and yet we bring our ‘friends’ back from the dead to fight for us! They are brought back from a life some thousands of years ago, likely from a time very different from ours, and expect them to assimilate to our society! To our brutish way of battling one another for sport! Fossil restoration is barbaric and another cruel invention of the Pokémon League!”

Hil had started to laugh, but was cut off by the roar of agreement that came from the gathered people. He shared a look with his friends and noted the shock on their faces as well. He had known Team Plasma had managed to gather a rather massive following… but, as he looked out over the crowd, actually seeing it in person was an entirely different feeling. The air was alive with their chanting and fist-pumps. This seemed less like an informative speech and more like a rallying cry… He cringed as he heard some of the words from the crowd.

“No more exhuming the dead for sport!”

“We shouldn’t profit off of something resting in peace!”

“And yet, that’s exactly what trainers do…”

The elderly man looked over the gathered crowd with a satisfied grin. He jabbed a fist into the air and screamed, “We must put an end to this horrific practice of bringing back the dead to serve the needs of selfish trainers, usually young children that have no idea what it is they’re doing! Not only are we abusing pokémon, but we are manipulating our youth into believing this behavior is acceptable!”

1 note · View note

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 10 (Back to You)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

----------------------------

While Hil, Cheren, and Bianca were contemplating leaving and coming back later, a young man scurried from the museum and approached them apologetically. He had deep, dirty blond hair and wore a dark suit. He waved at them. “Are you three here for the gym?” he asked in a hushed tone as he neared them.

“Well, my friend is,” Cheren answered. Hil cast a look at Bianca as she took a few steps away from them, drawn toward the crowd gathered in front of the Team Plasma display.

“You should just hurry up and come inside,” the young man said briskly. “We do apologize for the gathering, they’re… they’re really quite peaceful, even if they get fairly… boisterous,” he reassured them. Or at least, he tried. Hil wasn’t feeling very calmed by his unconvinced tone.

“You could say that again…” Cheren muttered. “Anyway, thank you… Are you the Clyde?”

“Yes, sir,” the young man smiled back at him. “Follow me.”

Cheren motioned for Hil to follow, and then hissed at Bianca, “Bianca, c’mon, we’re heading in now.”

“I’ll catch up…”

“What?” Hil found himself squeaking before he even realized it. He cleared his throat and repeated himself more clearly, “What are you gonna stay out here for?”

“I want to hear what he’s talking about,” Bianca told them, sounding a little agitated. She looked at them and sighed. “They may be acting a little crazy, but… I think they may have a point, you know?”

Cheren opened his mouth in a way that made Hil think he was about to say something he might regret, so Hil walked in front of him and nervously fiddled with his own hands. “C’mon, Cheren, let’s just go inside. We’ll catch up with her and her conspiracy theory buddies later,” he joked with a wink aimed her way. “I’m ready to go and earn my next badge.”

Cheren frowned in her direction, not that she could see it, and sighed. “Okay,” he finally breathed a little sadly.

Once inside the museum, the Clyde nervously explained the situation. “That’s Team Plasma out there, as I’m sure you recognized,” he mumbled, “they have recently been picking up the heat on their stance about fossil revitalization. It’s gotten so bad that Hawes and Gym Leader Lenora had those services called off until further notice.”

A receptionist behind a cool tan and white counter just within the entrance of the museum nodded from behind the glass shielding her small office. “It’s true,” she said through a small gap in the glass. “Gym Leader Lenora’s called the police on them a few times for fear of them getting violent, but there’s really nothing anyone can do. They’re allowed to gather like that, and they may be loud, but they’re not being violent.”

“Anyway,” the Clyde focused back on the topic at hand, “Which of you is it going to challenge Gym Leader Lenora?” He put that polite smile back on his face and clasped his hands behind his back, standing straight. He looked so clean and proper. It made Hil, in his sweatpants and raggedy blue and white hoodie, hat lopsided from where his swooping, wild hair pushed it up off his head at an awkward angle, feel embarrassed. The entire museum was just as posh as the Clyde.

“M-me,” Hil murmured. He made an attempt to smooth his hair out some and shove the hat on straight. Noodle cuddled up to his neck in the process. “I beat Gym Leader Chili of the Striaton City Gym and now I’m here to challenge Gym Leader Lenora.”

“Splendid!” the Clyde exclaimed. “May I see your badge case?”

Hil nodded and clumsily pulled it from his bag, dropping it on the floor once and having to fetch the Trio Badge from where it clattered away next to Cheren’s feet. He replaced it in its depression in the case and then awkwardly held it out to the Clyde, who scanned it carefully for a few seconds. Once satisfied, he nodded. “That’s a real Trio Badge alright,” he said and clapped his hands together. He then pulled an Xtransceiver from a pocket on the inside of his black suit’s jacket. “I’ll just call Hawes and let him know you’re here, and he’ll take you to where Gym Leader Lenora accepts challengers. What’s your name, young man?”

“Hil. Hil Whitacre.”

------------------------------

“Ladies and gentlemen, Team Plasma appreciates your recognition today,” Gorm said as he dipped his head respectfully to the crowd. His ears rang and his hips ached. He had spent the better part of two or more hours in front of that crowd, and fatigue was evident in the grunts assisting him as well. The flagbearers twitched with the effort of holding their position for so long, and the guardsmen grunts behind him were growing antsy and impatient. He couldn’t be happier to finally be leaving the stage, but he knew their work was not quite done yet for that day. Oh no, this was just the beginning. “For now, we bid you farewell, and insist that you continue your passive efforts. The museum already fails to offer any more revitalization services. Please, keep your fellow pokémon in mind, and keep the heat on them so this service is not offered again. Respect for pokémon is not just a fleeting phase.”

He was met with whoops and hollers of approval as he turned to the grunts gathered about him. They looked to him with pleading eyes. With a curt nod, they eagerly formed a protective barrier around him, leading him through the crowd and to one of the studio apartments further down the road, well away from the museum. The crowd happily parted for them.

Gorm, at the orders of Ghetsis, had temporarily rented a studio for their purposes in Nacrene City. It was helpful to store some of their items, such as flags or spare uniforms, as well as provide their members somewhere to rest between rallies. But this would be the last rally for this particular day. They had bigger interests in Nacrene than simply drumming up public support. That, too, was very important: they truly did find the practice of fossil revitalization disgusting.

However, there was a gem the Nacrene City Museum held: a massive, draconic skeleton said to have come from a Dragon-type pokémon which flew around the world some thousands of years ago. Its size and stature reflected that of the pokémon Team Plasma was researching in its own laboratories and as such, they had reason to believe it was related to the ancient Dragons of Unova. This theory had led them to an unfortunate conclusion.

As they reached the studio apartment, everyone entered except for two grunts, who wordlessly understood their duties. They had been the flagbearers at the rally. They placed their flags on either side of the stairwell leading to the studio’s front door and stood tall, stilly keeping guard over the entryway. Outsiders may have wondered how the flagbearers did it, but those within Team Plasma’s allegiance knew that flagbearers, or, as they were more accurately known, ‘defensemen,’ held some of the most important jobs in Team Plasma’s organization. They were the most devoted of individuals with the steeliest of hearts. They were the eldest of all of Team Plasma’s fold. Standing at attention for hours alone at a time did not faze them. Only the most dedicated of Team Plasma became defensemen and part of becoming one included proving one’s commitment under the guidance of a Sage.

Within the studio, the grunts stripped down to their thin, white undershirts and tossed on various, more inconspicuous outfits. They fluffed out their hair and some put on glasses. Others sported jewelry. Gorm himself did not change his appearance whatsoever, but he had no reason to. He would not be taking part in this exercise. This was someone else’s mission to lead.

Once the grunts had finished, he cleared his throat, and they aligned in perfect formation in front of him without need of further prompting. He focused on one of the grunts in particular, a tanned, toned man with wild blue hair and deep, sapphire eyes. “Brother Marlon,” Gorm said quietly, “you have been a valued member of Team Plasma for over five years now. As the eldest of this flock, you will lead today’s excursion, and I will oversee your operation.”

Marlon nodded briskly and swallowed hard. “Yes, sir, Sage Gorm,” he choked out.

“It is understandable to be nervous,” Gorm conceded, “but you must remain level-headed. This is your test for becoming a defenseman. I understand this may come as a surprise to you, but I have chosen you after careful consideration of the value you have brought to Team Plasma thus far.” Marlon had always been intended to lead the heist, but the grunt had not been made aware it would be his test for the rank of defenseman. Rarely were subjects informed of the test beforehand. “As for the rest of you, you remain valued members of Team Plasma regardless of your position. Remember, every single one of us has a role to play in the protection of this world and its creatures, pokémon and human alike.” Gorm regarded each grunt carefully and was satisfied at the mix of emotions on their faces. Hopefulness, anxiety, determination. No matter what it was, nobody looked as if they regretted where they were. That was what was important. A chain was only as strong as its weakest links, after all. He turned his attention back to Marlon. “Are you ready?”

Marlon, dressed in a black tank top, baggy black pants, flicked a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “I am,” he answered in a deep, booming voice. The anxiety in him at all but faded. He then put a dark blue bandana around his mouth, effectively covering his face. The rest of the grunts achieved similar success in hiding their true appearances in their varied attire.

“Good,” Gorm nodded. “Go. Bring forth the skull of the Dragon of Unova. Meet me at the deepest recesses of Pinwheel Forest, as we practiced. Go!”

-------------------

“We’re so glad to have you at the gym!” Hawes was gushing as he led Cheren and Hil further into the museum. He had paused at just about every exhibit in the museum to tell them about it, but Hil had honestly tuned most of it out. A giant Dragon-type pokémon skeleton, some rocks, a fossil or two, maybe… Maybe it should have intrigued him more, but he found it difficult to appreciate the models and their wordy descriptors. At least, he was bored until they came across the final exhibit.

Ironically, it was the smallest of them all, and had the shortest description. He looked over the tiny glass box, a gleaming, perfectly round stone situated inside on a velvety red fabric. He cocked his head at it. Noodle peered intensely as well. The plaque on the side of the pillar holding up the display said that it was “just an ordinary rock.”

“Oh, that,” Hawes laughed, “that’s just an anomalous rock given to us from some excavation at the Relic Castle in the desert. We can’t find anything remarkable about it, other than its perfectly spherical and, well, we keep it on display because it’s pretty.” He shrugged.

Hil leaned in as close as he could get and took in the roundness of its form. As he did, it lit up in a pale orange glow, reflecting off its glassy case. He jumped back hard, bowling into Cheren and sending them both to the floor in a cascade of fabric and arms. Noodle hissed loudly at them and leapt onto Hawes’ head prior to the landing, knocking the curator’s glasses ajar, and peered down at Hil and Cheren crankily.

“Hil, get off of me,” Cheren spat, shoving at Hil’s left arm.

“Hey, ow!” Hil batted his hands away. “Your leg’s on top of mine! You know, there’s easier ways to let me know you’re—”

“You fell on me!” Cheren shrilly cut Hil off with a murderous glare. He squirmed free from under Hil and brushed himself off once he staggered to his feet. After a few seconds, he begrudgingly reached a hand down to help Hil up. “What’d you go falling over for, anyway?”

Hil glanced back at the round stone in the display case. “You didn’t see that?” he asked dumbly.

“See what?”

“I hate to interrupt,” Hawes mumbled, “but…” He fought to replace his glasses properly and then tried to move Noodle off his head, but the Snivy growled and lashed its tail at his hands, whipping the leafy extremity across his fingertips with an audible slap. Hil rolled his eyes and plucked Noodle off Hawes’ head easily, tucking him into the hood of his jacket. Noodle trilled contentedly and snuggled into it.

“Sorry, he’s a bit anxious,” Hil apologized.

“You two really are a match made in heaven,” Cheren commented under his breath.

“Now, I’m laughing,” Hil said as he giggled, pointing a finger back at Cheren, “but that was very hurtful. Very rude. Bad Cheren.” He smirked and licked his lips. “Bad Daddy.”

“…We’re in the presence of a gym leader’s husband, can’t you have a little class?” Cheren hissed in a poor whisper, his cheeks flushing red madly. Hil thought for a fleeting second his friend might faint from embarrassment.

Hawes cleared his throat and that jerked their attention back to him. His face was sweaty and flustered. “Perhaps we should skip the rest of the exhibits and just have you challenge Lenora now,” he mused. “Lenora, honey!” he cried as he led them up a stairwell past the exhibits of the main part of the museum. He pursed his lips at a lack of a response and then pushed through a large, wooden double door and Cheren and Hil followed suit.

They had entered a library. Tall shelves lined with encyclopedias and other nonfiction material filled the room. Hawes hummed to himself as he disappeared down one aisle and flicked his wrist against a book. Once it sat ajar, he quickly strode out of the aisle and protectively put a hand in front of Cheren and Hil. The floor beneath them shuddered slightly, and then the bookshelf began to slide across the wooden floor. Hil and Cheren both eagerly peered around Hawes’ frame, awing at the dim stairwell it revealed.

“Sorry it seems so weirdly secretive,” Hawes laughed, “ah… We have had to step up security some, and my wife does most of her work in the gym battle arena nowadays. Anyway,” he moved to the side and held out his right arm in a gesture telling them to move forward. “Your battle awaits! Good luck, Hil!”

Hil and Cheren both thanked him and then descended into the poorly lit staircase. It looked even darker due to the deep maroon carpet and severe, wooden walls. Within, the room was segmented into an empty area that was primarily carpet, and then up a couple of steps, cluttered bookshelves claustrophobically encased a mahogany executive desk with a black office chair. Gym Leader Lenora was hunched over that desk with such a look of concentration on her form that she didn’t seem to notice Hil or Cheren’s entrance right away.

Cheren cleared his throat and she gave a start of surprise. “Oh, if it isn’t Cheren again!” she exclaimed. “Surprise seeing you again! This that friend of yours you were tellin’ me about?” She eyed Hil curiously and set a pen down, then plucked a pair of glasses from her face. Her voluminous, dark hair whipped and moved with every small motion of her head. She popped up from that office chair and it spun widlly. “I’m glad you could finally make it. I was worried by what you were tellin’ me!”

Hil looked at Cheren and raised a brow. He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. “Aw, you were worried,” Hil teased. “You love me~”

Cheren narrowed his eyes at him and then, to Hil’s surprise, smiled softly. “Yeah. I was worried.” Then that familiar scowl returned. “Now stop making it some weird joke. It’s not always a joke, you know.”

That ruined his entire joke and made Hil’s mouth flounder for something to say. He didn’t know what to think of that. He never meant his jokes to alienate his friends… Were they really self-isolating as Cheren’s comment had suggested?

Cheren turned his attention to Lenora. “Yeah, we’re happy to be here, Gym Leader Lenora. My friend here is wanting to challenge your gym today, if you’re available.”

Hil, flustered, was snapped back to the present by Noodle chirruping and lightly tapping the back of his head with his tail. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled in lame agreement with Cheren. He inwardly thanked Noodle for helping him focus.

“Of course I’m open for challengers right now!” Lenora boomed with a wide smile. “State your name and your challenge!”

Hil nervously looked up at her. “I, Hil Whitacre of Nuvema Town, challenge you, Gym Leader Lenora of Nacrene City, for the Basic Badge.” Man, these official challenge statements are a mouthful.

“Challenge accepted!” Lenora nodded and planted her hands on her hips. Her baggy, teal dress pants swayed slightly. “This will be a three on three battle. Whoever has three pokémon that go down first is the loser. Cheren, would you like to play referee for us? We don’t need one, of course, but they’re nice to have,” she said and winked at him.

Cheren’s face lit up and he nodded vigorously. “Y-yes, I’d love that!” He quickly cleared his throat and repeated himself more calmly, “I mean, I would be honored, Gym Leader Lenora.”

She giggled and tapped him in the shoulder knowingly. Cheren hurried to the short stairs that divided the room between office and arena, and Hil and Lenora took their respective sides of the battlefield. Just as Hil pointed for Noodle to get off his shoulder and Lenora had selected her first Poké Ball, however, a loud crash overhead sounded and screaming followed. Hil splayed his legs out like a cat catching itself from a fall and Noodle growled at the source of the noise overhead. Lenora roughly shoved the Poké Ball she had prepped to throw into a pocket and hurriedly waved at Hil and Cheren.

“Sorry boys, I’ll have to take this up again later…” she trailed off as she bolted up the stairs and out of the room. Cheren grabbed Hil’s wrist and pulled him along out of the room wordlessly. Hil wanted to bang his head against a wall. Now what? Challenging a gym leader the first time was bad enough, but now he’d have to do it again.

The thoughts were banished as he ascended back into the library. It was chaos. Black smoke billowed throughout the halls, but it lacked the harsh, tangy scent that smoke from a fire carried. It was alarmingly odorless, but he supposed that meant it wouldn’t choke him or sting his eyes at least. A few people that had been reading books from the shelves when Hawes had been showing them around were rushing through the library in a blind panic. One clipped Cheren on the shoulder and both stumbled to the ground. Distantly, voices rose in apparent anger.

“What on earth is going on out there?” Cheren asked the young girl that had tripped him up irritably.

“This group of thugs broke in and immediately set off a smoke bomb,” the young girl coughed as she waved away the inky air. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” she spluttered and bolted for the doors out of the library. Of course, as she opened them, the false smoke plumed from the entryway, deep and blinding. Hil found himself freezing as the stimuli started to overwhelm him. Cheren took note and grabbed him by his wrist, the dragging forcing Hil’s legs to move and snapping him from his stupor.

Once back into the main lobby of the museum, they really couldn’t see. The smokescreen was thick enough to cut with a knife and it was so loud… Hil cringed as he heard Lenora shrieking above what sounded like men barking orders or discussing passionately. Glass shattering then sounded and Hil dropped to his knees, covering his head. Noodle squeaked and began to twirl in Hil’s hood, wrapping the fabric around himself.

“Put that back!” He was able to pick out Lenora saying.

“No, you stay back!” came a deep, demanding voice. “This is for everyone’s own good. Stay back or we will not hesitate to defend ourselves.”

“You’re robbing my museum!” Lenora howled. “You don’t get to ‘defend yourself!’”

“Stay down,” a gentle and familiar voice suddenly interrupted Hil’s concentration. He waved madly at the darkness in the air to try and see the source of the words. He gasped when he saw N. He was leaning on one knee and pressed a hand to Hil’s left arm. He had an easygoing smile on his face though his silver eyes were as intense as ever.

Hil felt a surge of excitement at seeing him again, but almost as soon as he did, he remembered how N had bitterly declared that they couldn’t be friends last time they had met, and how he had intended to take Noodle away from him. He jerked his arm away from N’s grasp and glowered at him. How dare he show up like this and act so friendly! He had made it clear he had no intentions of it before, hadn’t he? “N! What do you want?”

“I don’t want you or anyone else innocent to get hurt in this process,” N explained. Hil once again found himself struggling to keep up with this man’s speedy dialogue. “You, your friend there, that Snivy, other innocents in this museum—it’s best if you remain out of the crossfire. You’re not part of this equation. Extraneous.”

“Okay,” Hil said awkwardly. He wasn’t sure what to make of his warning, seeing as he hadn’t intended to be a hero and figure out what was going on anyway. Part of him wanted to look away from N at that point, wanted to still be mad at him for the hostile interaction back at Accumula Town, but another part of him wanted to blow away the dense, dark fog and look over his entire form and then listen to that melodic, rapid voice all day long. Frustrated, Hil wrenched his gaze away with visible effort and shook his head. He had to focus. “Why care about us now? You were going to steal from us back in Accumula,” Hil spat defensively. Maybe it would be best if N just left.

“This has nothing to do with that,” N said matter-of-factly.

Cheren had knelt next to them and looked at them as if they had both lost their minds. He glared intensely at N. “Some nerve you have,” he growled, “you and your gang of thugs you call Team Plasma are probably behind this. And I have no idea where Bianca is. I swear, if anything’s happened to her…”

Hil couldn’t see N’s expression clearly through the smokescreen, but he didn’t need to. The barbed words told him all he needed to know. “You are very judgmental on first impressions, Cheren, was it? Sometimes there’s more to someone than face value.”

Drawn back to N despite his best efforts, Hil blinked slowly as he spoke. He wanted to snicker at what he had said but knew Cheren wouldn’t have appreciated that. He was also rather worried about Bianca… there was no telling where she was…

Cheren recoiled from N’s statement, grumbling under his breath. “Pompous little… Hil, we need to get out of here.”

“I dunno, he said it’s probably best if we stay put…” Hil looked down at his hands as he spoke. N’s advice had felt oddly soothing and the men were still shouting ahead. He remembered Wellspring Cave. Being a hero in this situation especially seemed like a poor idea.

“Hil, he’s probably at the head of this little stunt!” Cheren practically whined in exasperation. He slapped a hand to his forehead like a cartoon character and then looked around. “Though… I guess most others are just sitting tight until this is over… Fine, we can wait until we hear something from Gym Leader Lenora or Hawes, but then we’re leaving to find Bianca.”

Managing to tear his eyes away from N for a moment, Hil noted that mostly everyone else in the main exhibition room had flattened to the floor, frantically waving the false smoke away from themselves and chattering confusedly to one another. The loud voices Hil had heard earlier had died off for the most part, and to his relief, the blackness in the air appeared to be thinning. He, Cheren, and N sat in silence for a few minutes, hoping for some indication of safety.

“It’s alright, everyone, it’s safe to exit the building now!” came Hawes’ ragged, hoarse voice at long last. He must have been one of the men screaming earlier. “Everyone, please evacuate the premises!”

N was the first of them up. He marched easily and knowingly ahead of them. Hil scrambled to his feet and began to chase him, but Cheren had grabbed his jacket by his left sleeve, bringing him to a skidding halt. He whipped around and glared at his friend. Cheren was really starting to get on his nerves that day. “What now?” Hil hissed.

“Why are you following him like a lost Lillipup?” Cheren asked harshly, throwing his hands up in confusion. “Earth to Hil, do you remember what he said back in Accumula Town? He’d happily steal your Snivy if you looked away for too long, probably. I’m your friend, Hil.”

“Maybe he’s right and we’re being a little quick to judge,” Hil dodged. “I mean, really, with all the chaos, he could have just snatched Noodle out of my hood and that would have been that.” An indignant hiss caused Hil to reach a hand back to pat the Snivy’s head. “Sorry, buddy, not that I wanted him to, just…”

Cheren rolled his eyes as a slight, disbelieving smile crossed his face. “No, I see what this is now,” he groaned incredulously. “I don’t believe this.” Rubbing his temple, he pushed past Hil.

Hil, reacting a little more strongly than he probably should have, scurried to follow him. “What is it, then, huh?”

“Hil, he looks like a grown man, and you’re fourteen. Not to mention he is probably some crazy conspiracy theorist from Team Plasma!”

“What does that mean? What are you getting at, huh? Huh?” Hil demanded. He was once again being disingenuous; he knew exactly what Cheren was getting at, but the frightful idea was shoved from his mind before he had a chance to even consider it. There was no way he was really interested in N, was there? …No, of course not. He was just an intriguing, odd person. Anyone would have wanted to know more about him. He waved Cheren off as they moved to leave. “That’s not funny, Cheren, it’s not like that,” he defended himself with a note of finality, wordlessly telling his friend the discussion was over.

Hil and Cheren exited the building and joined the amorphous blob of people outside of the museum. The rush of sensation caused his train of thought to drop off, forgetting N entirely, to the point he failed to notice N had all but vanished, or that the earlier gathering of Team Plasma had dispersed as well. The false smoke flowed into the atmosphere slowly but surely after them, staining the deep, evening skies above a charcoal gray. Gym Leader Lenora and her husband, Hawes, were trying to raise their voices above the dull roar of the crowd, but between Hawes’ hoarseness and the sheer number of people, they were drowned out. At least, until one kind citizen offered a megaphone to Lenora.

“LISTEN UP!” she hollered. Hil and Cheren both clenched their teeth and winced at the screech of the megaphone. “I NEED EVERYONE TO GO HOME! RIGHT NOW! Police and officials are on their way and I need their assistance, they can’t help if y’all are standin’ around actin’ a fool! GO HOME!”

At her demands, the crowd rapidly fanned out. Nobody in their right mind would have disobeyed a gym leader, especially not one in Lenora’s stressed state. Cheren and Hil had intended to head for the pokémon Center, hoping to meet up with Bianca during all of the chaos, but Lenora’s voice came across the megaphone again and issued their names. Hil cowered at hearing his name said so loudly and glanced back at her nervously.

Cheren urged him over to where Lenora stood with her husband at her side. “Are you two okay?” she asked, without the megaphone this time, having dropped it to her side. As soon as they nodded, she added, “Good. Cheren, would you mind staying here at the museum for me to make sure nothing else goes down? You have my number on the Xtransceiver now, call me if anything new happens. Hawes will stay with you.”

“Uh, well, we were going to look for our friend…” Cheren responded with concern etched into his face. Hawes clasped a hand to Cheren’s shoulder and bent low to whisper something to him. Cheren gave a sigh and then both of them disappeared into the museum.

“And you,” Lenora said as she turned to Hil, “I want—”

“Well, I had intended to come here to relax some, but I see Nacrene City’s buzzing today,” a drawling, joking voice snickered, cutting her off.

Hil and Lenora glanced at the newcomer. A pine green, fuzzy sweater clung to his small frame, as did pink, striped pants to his legs. Thick, tawny, wavy hair spilled around his face, bringing out his pale green eyes. He had crossed his arms and tilted his head at them some. “So, where’s the fire?”

“Burgh!” Lenora exclaimed. Hil flinched at her volume. “How good to see you! Wish I had time for chit-chat, but I don’t, we need help!”

Burgh’s entire body lurched forward as he seemed to halt a bounce of excitement. “Well, what seems to be the problem?”

Burgh and Hil both shrank back at Lenora’s shrill response. “Some thugs just made off with an exhibit of mine, that’s what! I’m goin’ to check to the east exit. Can you take this challenger and check out Pinwheel Forest?” She jabbed a finger into Hil’s shoulder.

“Of course, Lenora!” Burgh clapped his hands together eagerly and glanced to Hil. In an instant, he blanched, and his pupils widened, as if he were only just realizing who this challenger was. “Hil,” he squeaked and then cleared his throat.

Hil tore his eyes away from Burgh as well, staring at the ground instead. Lenora and locals of Nacrene or Castelia City may not have been able to recognize him as the kid of that guy who shot himself in Castelia’s hostel, but Burgh would. Burgh had been at the funeral and Hil remembered keenly how he had made every effort to try and talk to Hil. It had been infuriating and depressing all at once. All he knew of Burgh was his relation to his father and that meant just seeing the gym leader brought a flood of anxious feelings and angry thoughts. A flood he worked hard to keep back most days. “Surely he can handle it on his own,” Hil muttered without looking up. “He’s a gym leader, after all.”

“There’s two paths in Pinwheel Forest,” Lenora said irritably, “I want you both to go to cover the exits, we don’t have time to argue about this. Burgh, you’re good with kids, get him to get over it? Anyway, I’m heading east!” With that, she waved her arm at them haphazardly as she darted down the dark asphalt streets of Nacrene. Something beige trailed out from her outfit behind her like a cape. Despite what she had said, Hil still refused to look up at Burgh. It felt awkward that they were alone then.

“We should get going, in that case,” Burgh breathed in a quivering tone. He began to walk away and Hil silently lagged behind him.

Truthfully, Hil thought Burgh looked like an enjoyable person to be around. He was bright-eyed and eccentric, lacing his words with subtle Bug-type puns, and his expressiveness meant it was easy to read him. Even at the funeral, he had struggled to quell his exuberance, much to the appreciation of many of Hil’s extended family members. But when Burgh’s attention fell to Hil, it was as if the gym leader was seeing a ghost; his skin would drain of color and he’d stumble over his words. The Bug-type puns would fail to land, and he would fiddle incessantly with his hands. It was so endlessly frustrating.

Making friends is really fucking hard when everyone thinks they know everything there is to know about you, Hil thought fiercely as he padded after Burgh. He heard Noodle chirp and then lean against his neck. He took a deep breath and let the anger filter out of him. “Thanks, Noodle.”

0 notes

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 6 (Amber’s Secrets)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

---------------------------- WARNING: Discussion of mental illness/mention of suicide. Strong language.

Hil spent the next morning following the day training in the Dreamyard in the hostel at Striaton City’s Pokémon Center. Cheren and Bianca had already left an hour or so before, but Hil was only just sitting up in his bed. He had crashed in his day clothes and his hoodie clung to his frame in a cold sweat. He grimaced and pulled it off, flinging it to the floor. The rest of his clothes felt even worse against his skin. He walked over to his bag and rifled through it until he found another set of clothes—a plain white shirt, a pair of jeans that was probably several sizes too small, as well as undergarments—and tossed them on the bed. He then readied some various kinds of pokémon kibble he had bought from the store the prior evening and let his pokémon free, allowing them to roam the room and eat while he continued to get ready.

After a shower, he put on those fresh clothes, and took his daily clothes down to the public laundry room. After feeding the machine some cash and setting a timer for when it would be done, he returned to his room and flopped ungraciously on the bed. Noodle immediately jumped up onto the bed and curled up on his chest. Hil snorted and gently ran a hand down his back before scooting the Snivy off him gently.

“Okay, everyone,” Hil cleared his throat as he sat up, “I got a question.”

Noodle rested his head in Hil’s lap and looked up at him patiently. Roadie, Lucky, Crest, and his newest party member—a Munna named Sleepy he caught later in the evening following the incident in the Dreamyard with Team Plasma—followed suit. Roadie and Lucky sat on their haunches with their ears pricked; Crest partially climbed up Hil’s left leg. Sleepy, on the other hand, opted to merely glance in his direction from where she hovered a few feet away.

“You all understood that way better than I expected you to,” Hil mumbled. “Well, anyway… Uh, I’m gonna feel stupid explaining this,” he laughed. “So, there’s this thing, called the gym challenge.”

Nobody’s expression changed. Of course, Hil thought irritably at himself.

“Uh… to explain, um… Well, you see, you know what we were doing yesterday, training at the Dreamyard? It’s kinda like that, but the opponents are a lot stronger, and you usually gotta fight a few in a row without a break.” He waved his hands animatedly as he spoke and looked like he was performing the world’s worst game of charades. “And if you beat all eight of these gyms, there’s even more powerful pokémon you can battle, the Elite Four. And after that, the champion. It’s called the Pokémon League. But… it’s not required. And you don’t have to finish it if you start.”

Hil blinked as the awkward stares only felt like they grew more intense. Roadie began to chew on his leg a little before turning his attention back to Hil.

“So… I guess my question is, do you guys want to do that?” He pet Noodle on the head and smiled as Noodle trilled cutely under his touch. “I just… Noodle, that battle against N… you got really hurt and the opponents out there are only gonna get way harder. I don’t want to put you guys through pain like that if you don’t want to.”

Noodle abruptly pulled himself free of Hil’s grasp and hopped to the floor, adopting an attacking stance, his tail raised high and head lowered slightly. He shot some vines from his shoulders and gently tapped Lucky on the forehead. She jumped spastically, all of her violet fur puffing out, and then looked back at Noodle cautiously. Noodle gave a little encouraging hop and hiss, and then Lucky made a similar pose back, her fur smoothing out once again.

Roadie, Crest, and Sleepy even joined in on the mock fight. At least until Sleepy began to issue a sing-song sound that made everyone feel a little drowsy. Hil quickly called her name and asked her to please stop, and to his surprise, she did. Everyone then turned their attention back to Hil, and began to excitedly bounce around his feet. It was Noodle who rushed toward the door to the room and scratched at the door lightly, his eyes downturned in something of a pout.

“Okay, so am I right to take that as a yes, you guys want to take on the gym challenge?” Hil questioned with a raised brow. He honestly hadn’t expected them to understand him so clearly, or be so eager. Everyone gave an eager bounce in response to his question, Lucky landing in his lap and rolling over to show her belly to him. He had figured out yesterday it was a bad idea to take her invitation to pet it, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. “Alright then. Gym challenge it is. Gotta wait for my clothes, though. Sorry, Noodle,” he laughed as the Snivy hissed and stalked back over to him from the doorway.

-----------------

Your Discussion with Vince

Vince

why did you text me just to tell me that youre pissed at me, youre always pissed at me

Well since you cant be fucked to pick up the phone

Vince

Maybe Id pick it up more often if you wouldn’t be such a bitch

strong words, big boy, mr. bug trainer

Vince

What do you want amber

You had better call tonight. Hil’s going to be here. You need to talk to him.

Vince

I will talk to him

You know I will

It’s you I don’t want to talk to

Real mature Vincent

That had been how all of Amber’s discussions with Vince had gone in the months leading up to his accident. They could have filled books with the myriad angry text messages sent back and forth, both too isolated from the rest of the world to find anyone else to confide in or take their stresses out on, and both fed up with and wounded by the other. It was such a tragic and brutal ending to a closeness Amber had hoped would last a lifetime as they had once vowed.

She had found herself scrolling through the texts again after a few failed attempts at reaching Hil through the Xtransceiver. It was so lonely without him at home anymore and she couldn’t shake the feeling he was ignoring her calls on purpose. She could understand why, but that didn’t make it hurt or upset her any less. She missed him. She missed them both.

She had met Vince on her own travels through Unova. He had been charming and goofy, taking joy in making her laugh. He was a much better trainer than she and helped her traverse Unova that much more easily. She had never really enjoyed the gym challenge that much and as such, had appreciated his help. He mowed through the gyms easily and it seemed nothing could stop him. Nothing could stop them. Each day was a new adventure and they always were on the move.

Vince never beat the champion, but he always would manage to beat at least one or two of the Elite Four. All that gave him pause from ambitiously pursuing his goal of displacing Champion Alder was finding out Amber was pregnant just a couple of years after they had met. He had been thrilled at the news, had doted on her endlessly, and used much of the cash he had amassed over his victories as a trainer to purchase their little home in Nuvema Town. They had decided jointly the quieter town would be perfect to settle down in. Amber had been especially happy to discover two other women in the town were also expecting—Shea Goode and Britney Achron, now better known as the mothers of Bianca and Cheren respectively.

Everything had seemed to be going so well. But that was where the record started skipping. No longer able to travel long distances due to needing to help Amber, Vince could no longer battle the tough opponents that gave him the cashflow he was used to. He took up odd jobs nearby—the Poké Mart in Accumula Town and Striaton City, a lab assistant in Nuvema, an assistant nurse at the Pokémon Center—but he’d always end up losing them in the end. He had a wanderlust that needed to be sated and the longer he sat still, the more he struggled. She had tried to be understanding at first and Vince had insisted he could handle it to help her and his son, but his actions never backed up his words. She had never been able to understand why he couldn’t just be happy with his homely life and settle in.

Despite their difficulties over the course of Hil’s younger years, up until he was about eleven, they managed to keep it mostly under wraps. Vince was still his boisterous self around his son, joking and having a good time, still managed to make ends meet. As Hil grew older, Vince realized he could travel farther distances since Amber didn’t need as much help, and so he did. He went on several week-long excursions deep into Unova’s heartland. Unlike when he was younger, however, he found battling exhausting and no longer as profitable as it had once been for him. He lost frequently and cut into their finances rather than gaining anything. Amber had been shocked and furious to discover that. In retrospect, he probably had just been out of practice… it had been years…

Oh, how she would have given anything to go back and change that scathing reaction. She was certain it had been what drove him to find a gym to train under. He had decided on Burgh in Castelia City since it was relatively nearby, and Burgh seemed to have himself better together than the Striaton City triplets or Lenora. It had been strenuous to get used to him being away for an entire week at a time, but she had been able to accept it on the condition that he came home over weekends.

After the first year, however, Vince had lamented he was making no progress at Burgh’s gym and he was still in the same class as some of the newest of trainers to the gym. Amber had blamed the fact it was a Bug-type gym. “You just can’t win with Bug-types,” she insisted. But Vince had just brushed her off.

“If that were the case, how is there a whole gym for them? One of Sinnoh’s Elite Four trains Bug-types. Bug-types aren’t bad. I’m bad,” Vince had groaned.

“Well, with that attitude…” Amber had mused.

“I’m going to start staying there most weekends.” Vince had spat that out quickly, as if ripping off a band-aid. That had been the precursor for the next two and a half years. Amber fought him on that tooth and nail. He wanted to stay at Castelia City constantly and send home money by mail to them, insisting he needed the time to focus and get better, and he could be far more of an inspiration to Hil if he wasn’t constantly flailing between jobs. Amber had taken her stance that him staying in Castelia would drive him insane due to his love for travel, and not only that, but he would neglect Amber and Hil both by doing so. Their arguing got them nowhere and Vince had upped and left in the middle of a Sunday night. Usually he didn’t leave to head to Castelia until Monday morning. He didn’t come back the next weekend.

That was when the calls began. No matter who initiated the calls, they always went the same. Amber would beg him to come home for the weekend. Vince would insist he couldn’t. The only thing that ever changed was how badly Amber reacted to him saying he couldn’t. At first, she had been openly upset and vulnerable with him, expressing her rawest feelings about it. That hadn’t worked. So later, she tried anger. She dug into him with a viciously sharp tongue. All that did was earn her self-deprecating comments.

“I’m sorry I can’t be enough for you,” he would shoot at her through the phone, his voice quivering and tense with emotion. “I don’t want to come home, this mess that I am, to you and Hil, okay? Just let me do this, Amber.”

“You’re only a mess because you won’t fucking come home!” Amber had snarled. “Just admit it. You don’t care.”

“That is not true!” Vince would practically wail. “Look, I’ve—”

“What, got to go?” Amber had sneered. “That’s right, Vince, run away. Find somewhere else to be. That’s all your good for.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s all I am good for! You happy now?” Vince had spat. She could tell he was crying now. It didn’t stop her.

“I’m sure Hil would love to hear all about that,” she had growled.

“Don’t you dare bring him up into this!” Vince had hissed. She could still tell he was sobbing, but between gasps for air to support his strangled lungs, he radiated rage. “This is not something that involves him, Amber! This is between you and me! He is the best thing that ever happened to either one of us, don’t go messing with him just because you hate me!”

“Why? Don’t want him to know just how awful of a father you really are?” She had latched onto his anxieties and sank her fangs in. Her heart had always pounded wildly whenever she said such nasty things to him. They had felt necessary at the time—a kick in the rear to get him to see sense—but no matter how often she did it… he never did. After a while, she came to despise him for that. Why couldn’t he have just… listened to her for once? What was wrong with him?

That was just the thing, though, wasn’t it? She had torn him down, worn away all his defenses; she had truly been his downfall. She still had no idea what she should have done differently, but she knew she should have done something different… and then the threats started. Another conversation came to mind from across that accursed Xtransceiver. At least they never used the video feature. They had both learned that was an accident waiting to happen with how hot their tempers could run.

“Oh, great, you’re calling me to bitch me out again,” he had sighed, “what do you want, Amber?”

“Hil’s birthday is this Saturday.”

“You know I’ll be there for that. I don’t know why you felt you had to call and remind me.” That was true. Vince had never missed anything important for Hil.

“I don’t know, you’re never fucking here otherwise!” Amber had practically shrieked into the phone. She didn’t know what she had been expecting from that remark, she had just been frustrated and wanted to get to him. She heard clattering from the other end of the line and muffled words.

“Fucking, you made me drop the Xtransceiver, Amber! It’s expensive!” he whined in a hoarse tone. She recalled thinking it was strange his voice was so raspy. Now, she knew it to mean he had likely been crying for quite some time prior to her call. “You keep saying that, you keep saying I’m never there, and I do my best! I am doing my best! I am doing what I think will help us in the long run! Maybe I just shouldn’t try if it’s never going to get better, huh? Maybe I should just go and blow my brains out, huh? Would that make you happy, Amber? Would that do something for you?”

“Vincent, don’t fucking start,” Amber had growled, “It’s not funny and you wouldn’t do it, anyway. Oh, what would Hil think if you did?” she had asked darkly. She had never believed him for an instant and had again merely taken the opportunity to rake into him.

“Shut up about him!” Vince had fiercely screamed from the other end. It had then been her turn to nearly drop her Xtransceiver. The power in his voice had surprised her. She had shakily held the phone back up to her ear. “Everything I am doing is to try to make life better for him! He is the best part of me and my life! You don’t get to just use him as a pawn in your arguments! How dare you use him like that! He’s your son, too! Can’t you respect him, even if you can’t respect me? Leave him out of it!”

“…You’re delusional, and I’m tired of talking to you, Vince. You don’t make any sense,” she had answered, exasperated, tired of hearing his voice. She had all but blotted out his words, having not wanted to listen to him.

“You’ve got no problem forcing me to listen to you but when I talk to you, I get nothing,” Vince had whimpered. “Goodbye, Amber.” He had hung up with a decisive click.

That had been their last conversation. Amber had decided she simply didn’t care about him anymore enough to keep him talking and had tried to use Hil as leverage in her argument to get him to shut up. It had worked, even if she had gotten an earful prior to him hanging up. She had slept easily that night, like a baby, curled up in her soft bed, weighted comforter warming her up to her shoulders… She wouldn’t discover until noon the next day that Vince had spent that night in a cold, tiled bathroom floor in a pool of his own blood.

Amber set the Xtransciever down and felt the sadness pulling her down like chains. She made her way into the kitchen and thumbed a lock hanging from a small drawer at the very end of the countertops. She used her other hand to retrieve keys from her pocket and she shifted them until she found a thin silver key that unlocked the drawer. Sitting inside was a set of three crinkled, lined papers, scrawled in rushed, ragged handwriting she knew belonged to Vince. One of them was stained a light pink on the very bottom right corner.

They had addressed Hil and Hil only. She had never given them to her son. She had read through them and the train of thought was all over the place, but mostly, the letter was a massive apology. Vince had spent it apologizing for failing to do better, telling Hil that he had been a lesser man, and he hoped Hil would do better than he had. Part of her kept the notes hidden from Hil for the strong language and the fact they spoke of concepts Hil, at fourteen, wouldn’t understand. Another part of her kept them hidden for fear of Hil hating her if he knew the truth… Not to mention, since the notes blathered on and on about Hil himself, she knew how Hil would take them. He would take them as proof he was to blame for his father’s death if he had been so prevalent on Vince’s mind moments before he took his life.

Since most of her and Vince’s arguments were over the phone, Hil never got to hear his father’s side of the story. He had always sympathized with her prior to Vince’s accident, but even so, hadn’t hated Vince by any means. She had enjoyed that strenuous relationship. She didn’t want Hil disliking either one of them… admittedly, she took selfish pride in Hil’s sympathy. Perhaps Vince had been right about her, and she did drag Hil into their squabbles…

She had spent the time following Vince’s accident trying to be there for Hil, trying to appease him and do whatever she felt was necessary to make him happy. But she couldn’t deny that Vince was always on her mind and she knew somehow, her efforts were only serving to push Hil away. She had resigned herself to accepting Hil’s distancing, but she never stopped trying, and obsessively checked behind him to make sure there was no threat of him doing the same. Thankfully, guns were incredibly rare in the Unova region, but that didn’t stop her paranoia from driving her to rifle through Hil’s room from top to bottom. That had also brought about conflict between them.

It had been a mess, if she was entirely honest. All of it. So much glass had shattered, and she still was finding shards lodged in her feet as time went on. Would they ever escape this part of their lives? Or was this just how life was from now on out? Was this her punishment for being so callous and cold toward Vince?

She gave a resigned sigh and picked up the notes in the drawer, clutching them close to her chest. It was a punishment she’d willingly serve, seeing how she had been his angel of death.

#pokemon #pkmn #pokemon black: the novel #pokemon retold #pokemon black and white #pokemon black #pokemon white #hilbert #hil #snivy #purrloin #patrat #amber whitacre #vincent whitacre #vince whitacre #amber #vince #vincent #whitacre

1 note · View note

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 13 (Fierce)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

—————————-

Traversing the straight path through Pinwheel Forest had been so much easier than when he had fought his way through the dense forestry to find that stupid skull. Even so, they paused at the gate between it and Sky-Arrow Bridge because they knew the walk across would be long and uncomfortable. It was growing warmer by the day and this day proved to be especially harsh. Despite the rising heat, Hil stubbornly kept his hoodie on, much to the combined annoyance of Cheren and apparently, Noodle. The Snivy had taken to Hil’s head, refusing to rest on his shoulders or hood.

Inside the gate, Bianca wandered over to the digital sign giving news to travelers, while Cheren and Hil bickered.

“You’re going to sweat to death,” Cheren complained. He had ditched his thin windbreaker within the last week, and instead wore just a white shirt with red trimming around the neck, which met at a stripe down the center. Combined with his slender, dark pants, he looked nice. Hil didn’t quite like his appearance without the baggy clothes obscuring his frame. He pressed his lips to a thin line as Cheren continued to nag him. See, this was why he called him ‘Daddy’ all the time, if not for the jokes. It was just true. “Take the hoodie off, for Arceus’ sake.”

“I wonder, do you hear yourself?” Hil asked with genuine confusion laced in his voice. “Like, were you ever a kid, or did you just come out as a dad?”

“Har har,” Cheren said pointedly. “Maybe if you had any sense, I wouldn’t have to worry so much.”

“Aww, you’re worried, about me?” Hil rose his voice in a mocking way, making it sound as if he had been truly touched by Cheren’s sentiment. Truthfully, he was; Cheren’s comment from the Nacrene City Museum when he had gone to face Lenora had not left his mind. “Yeah. I was worried. Now stop making it some weird joke. It’s not always a joke, you know.” As soon as he’d finished, he felt a little guilty for turning it into a joke yet again, but he stuck to his guns and kept up the taunt. “Also, I do have sense, thank you very much.”

“Sense enough to at least wear a light-colored hoodie if you’re going to wear one when it’s eighty degrees outside,” Cheren muttered.

“Hey!” Bianca interrupted them. “Guys, come check out the news on this board!”

Oh, joy, the news. Hil threw his head back to glare at the roof. This ought to be good. He followed Cheren over to her and all three of them then stared at the digital, animated sign. Yellow letters crawled across the screen and slowly told news of the next area over. This particular sign had news mainly about Castelia City.

The temperature today is 84* F!

Yeah, Hil knew that from how hard he was sweating.

Castelia City has a population of eight thousand! This makes us the most populous city in Unova!

Arceus, that’s a lot of people… Hil thought as he sucked in a fast breath. As that text took its sweet time creeping across the banner, Cheren piped up. “That seems like a lot to us, but research suggests human population would be way higher if not for pokémon. Like, between the amount of time people spend traveling, unfortunate encounters with wild pokémon people aren’t prepared for… Humans would be a lot more populous without pokémon. It was actually a really fascinating read.”

Bianca shrugged. “Oh well! I think pokémon are great and the people that are here are pretty great, too!”

“Yeah, it’s crowded enough everywhere as it is,” Hil yawned. Bianca rolled her eyes at him but kept smiling.

“Wait, wait, read that,” Cheren said, patting each of their shoulders that he could reach distractedly. Then he jabbed a finger at the sign.

Crime on a rise? Castelia City has been experiencing a string of robberies recently. Police want your help if you have any tips! The culprit is described as a person in their mid to late teens with dark hair and is known to carry a Samurott. Rewards are on the table for more information that points to the culprit’s whereabouts!

The message took quite some time to scroll past, but once it finished, Hil crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “That’s exciting to know,” he said dryly.

“Oh, we better keep an eye out, then!” Bianca said fiercely.

“Bianca, dark hair, carrying a Samurott, and mid to late teens could describe a fifth or sixth of Castelia’s entire population,” Cheren sighed.

“Aw, but we can still keep an eye out!” Bianca bounced a little. “I wonder what kind of rewards they are talking about?”

“Keys to the city,” Hil suggested with a noncommittal shrug. He grinned at Bianca and knelt on one knee. He held open an empty hand to her. “For you, madam.”

“Why, you shouldn’t have,” Bianca flicked her hair and raised her chin, adopting a pompous edge to her voice. She smirked down at Hil and pushed his hands shut, then turned away from him.

“Ugh, rejection,” Hil groaned and clasped his hands over his heart. Cheren, looking rather hostile all of a sudden, scoffed at him.

“Get up,” he hissed, “you’re embarrassing.”

“Uh, yeah,” Hil snorted as he got back to his feet and brushed himself off. “What was your first clue?”

“Boys, play nice! And Hil, stop it!” Bianca called back at them from the other side of the gate. Hil then noticed that the helpdesk woman situated behind a deep blue counter had a hand over her face, as if trying to direct her attention at the computer in front of her and nothing else. “Let’s get going, why don’t we?” Bianca asked exasperatedly.

Hil and Cheren agreed. Before following her, Hil cast a glance back at the sign one more time.

…irearm awareness and vigil for Vincent Whitacre to be held at Castelia City Gym and Studio in three days! Castelia City wishes to make its community aware of the…

Wrenching his face away before the message finished, he could tell their stint in Castelia City would be fun already.

-----------

The trek across the Sky-Arrow Bridge had been nice at first, but about three quarters of the way across that massive strip of walkway, Hil had finally relented and taken off his hoodie. Partially because he intended to beat Cheren with it to make him shut up about it. The heat must have been getting to all of them, as Noodle simply jumped from Hil’s head and ran ahead to get out of the crossfire and Bianca had snapped at them both to get it together. Then she had snatched Hil’s jacket from his grasp and stuffed it into her bag, which bulged with the effort of trying to hold it all.

On the other side, though, the tension seemed to dissipate at arriving in the large city. The dull roar of chattering civilians passing them by, and the occasional car, drowned out any other bickering between the three friends. They silently decided to make their way to a restaurant known for diner fare, to relax and escape the heat for a few minutes. They were seated at a booth, Bianca and Cheren on one side, and Hil with Noodle on the other. A pale wooden table separated them.

After that, everyone was in a much better mood, and they discussed their plans for the day. Despite how uncomfortable the walk between Castelia City and Nacrene City had been, it admittedly hadn’t taken that long. It was still about midday.

“I think I’m going to head to the gym right away,” Cheren stated. “Gym Leader Burgh is said to have quite a few trainers that help challengers get stronger before they face him. I think it’d do me good to face them instead of just wild pokémon.”

Hil shrugged. “I’m gonna head to the Pokémon Center, I think. I just wanna hang out with my team for a while and probably wait until tomorrow to face the gym…”

“I just want to sightsee!” Bianca cried giddily, lightly tapping the table with her fingertips. “I hear the piers are really pretty and there’s this boat that will take you on a short cruise around Castelia! The Royal Unova! I want on!”

“Huh, that does sound like fun…” Cheren mused as a waitress arrived and settled their drinks on the table. “I mean, I hope you have fun,” Cheren corrected with a cough. “You’ll need to tell me about it.”

“Of course!” Bianca beamed at him.

They spent another hour there—Hil fed Noodle a few scraps despite Bianca and Cheren’s concerns—and then went their separate ways. Hil, as he told his friends, retreated to the Pokémon Center with the intention of spending some quality time with his team in a private hostel room. The Nurse Joy had looked as if she had seen a ghost when he asked for the room key and offered him the private room before he’d even had a chance to speak. He thanked her as sarcastically as he could manage, having no patience for her or anyone else’s pity, and headed upstairs.

As he entered the room, he felt guilty, as if he had neglected most of his pokémon other than Noodle; Noodle was just so easy to carry with him outside of the Poké Ball. But another anxiety had begun to develop as well. His team consisted of a Munna, Patrat, Purrloin, Snivy, Blitzle, and Panpour. He knew from the past ramblings of his father and Cheren that most of those were considered difficult pokémon to train and use viably. He felt it was his responsibility to carry them through to the end now, having asked them if they wanted to (he had made sure to ask his newer teammates as well following their capture and they had also seemed to agree), but even if he managed to fight off the occasional freeze-ups, what if it simply became too difficult? He sighed as he tossed his team free of their Poké Balls and instead opted to just feed, pet, and groom them, idly ignoring the doubt. By the end of it, he was curled up in his bed, and fell asleep in the process of brushing out Lucky the Purrloin’s soft, violet fur.

He woke to claws digging into his chest and the obnoxious ringing of his Xtransceiver. He was vaguely aware of Lucky hissing as he jolted awake, slamming his head against the headboard behind him. Cursing under his breath, Hil groggily reached for that Arceus-forsaken device and saw he had a whole slew of missed messages and calls. His eyes flew open wide and he began to comb through the list, noticing a significant amount from his mother from over an hour ago, and then the more recent ones were from Cheren. As he went to press Cheren’s name to call him back, Cheren called again, so he answered.

“Cheren? What’s—”

“Get to Cruise Dock!”

“O-okay, calm down, dude, what’s going on?”

“Just get to Cruise Dock, I don’t have time to explain. Hurry! It’s Bianca!”

Like that, Cheren hung up. Hil blinked at the blank screen, and then it was like his brain went on autopilot at the idea of Bianca in trouble, his mother’s missed calls and messages forgotten. He gathered all of his things and stuffed them into his pockets, grumbling when the weight of his Xtransceiver, Pokédex, and badge case began to sag his pants. Anchoring them in place with some awkward leg movements, he retrieved his belt from the corner of the bed and then recalled his team.

“Sorry guys, we’ve got to go, Bianca might be in trouble,” he muttered as he went. At that, they seemed to still and willingly return to the balls. Noodle hopped to his shoulder from the bedspread and nudged him in the head with his pointy nose, as if to urge him on. Hil cast a glance around the room one last time to make sure he didn’t miss anything, and then slung his bag over his back, speeding out the Pokémon Center.

Cruise Dock was one of the five piers in Castelia City, spreading from its south end like the fingers of a human hand. That odd detail allowed Hil to remember them since Cheren had taught him about it ages ago. For once, he was grateful for Cheren’s quirk of constantly sharing his reservoir of seemingly random knowledge. He’d be amazing at trivia.

Once free of the Pokémon Center, Hil bolted through the throngs of people and found the pier just a few buildings down the way. People moved out of his way as he went, giving him clearance, though they also gave him the occasional hurtful remark (not that he paid them any mind). Down the middle of the long dock, he saw a small group of people gathered. Policemen patrolled the pier and one halted him with a Stoutland at his side. It snarled at Hil and he skidded to a halt, his nose nearly pressed to the officer’s outstretched hand.

Hil started to snap something at him, but Burgh’s familiar voice interrupted them both. “That’s okay, officer, let him through.”

The officer called his Stoutland and stepped aside, allowing Hil to see Burgh, Cheren, Bianca, and a girl with a comical amount of violet hair gathered at the center of the pier, between groups of police officers. “Bianca!” Hil cried as he booked it over to them. He pushed the others away and hovered his hands over her shoulders as if he wanted to grab them, but he didn’t touch her. He bent his eyes down to her level and noted that her eyes were clenched shut and her face red and puffy. “Bianca, are you okay?”

“Someone stole her Munna,” Cheren told him tersely, waving Hil away. “Please, give her some space…”

“Ugh, I tried to chase him, but…” the violet-haired girl had a loud, booming voice for a girl, and she clenched both her fists at her comment. She looked to Bianca sadly. “I’m really sorry, Bianca.”

“I-it’s not your f-fault…” Bianca sniffled. “Th-thanks for coming out, H-Hil…”

Hil exchanged a look with Noodle on his shoulder and then put his hands on his hips. “So, what happened? Who did it? Why are we all just standing around here on the pier like idiots?”

“Bianca and Iris here say that they don’t know who he was, just that he was a guy dressed in all black, sunglasses, mask, the whole nine,” Cheren sighed. “We—”

“Watch it! Get him!”

Screaming and hollering cut Cheren off and the police on the pier began to swarm where the pier met Castelia City’s main road, barking at civilians to get out the way. Hil could barely hear it above the noise, but the policemen’s walkie talkies were broadcasting something to each one of them, something clearly very important. He saw one of them point at a pokémon flying through the sky. Hil narrowed his eyes in confusion at it but jerked his head to the side when he noticed Cheren had pulled his Pokédex out.

“Archeops, the First Bird Pokémon. They are intelligent and will cooperate to catch prey. From the ground, they use a running start to take flight,” the Pokédex prattled away from within Cheren’s palm. Just like that, the birdlike pokémon disappeared from sight, dipping between two of Castelia’s towering buildings. The cops had all but vanished after it. Some had, in what would have been an amusing sight had the situation been less stressful, jumped onto their Stoutland and rode them away.

Cheren squared his shoulders and groaned in frustration. “She just had her pokémon stolen! What are they going after a stupid Archeops for?”

“It’s that new thief,” Burgh answered so quietly he was nearly inaudible. He was staring after where the Archeops had disappeared with a distant, lost expression. “They likely think he took it. They’re wrong, bu—I mean, yeah… they probably think he took it…” His expression turned sour after that. Hil paid it no heed due to the anger prickling in his chest.

Cheren narrowed his eyes at Burgh when he stumbled over his words. Hil rolled his eyes at them. “Okay, well, while you all stand here and look pretty,” Hil sneered, “I’m gonna go find the Munna.”

“Finding it is a lot easier said than done, but I promise, we’ll find it,” Burgh said as he turned back to Bianca and placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. He glanced at Hil over his shoulder. “Hil, please, calm down, you’ll just upset her worse.”

Hil took a deep breath, reminding himself it was unfair to be harsh on Burgh like he wanted to be in that moment. “Right.” He exhaled.

Burgh looked Iris in the eyes. “You did everything you could,” he told her with conviction and a stern smile. Even in the face of such stress, he was still so positive. How on earth could anyone be like that? “But while I go find her Munna, can you stay with her? Keep her safe? The police will come back here once they’re done chasing the thief, but I’m sure she’d appreciate the little cocoon of protection in the meantime.” He winked at her.

“You got it, Gym Leader Burgh! I’ll be her bodyguard!” Iris pumped her fist and then brought it over her heart in a symbolic gesture. She added something in what seemed to be a foreign tongue.

“Hil, Cheren,” Burgh turned to them next, “I want you two to come with me, okay? We’re going to look through the city for anything sketchy. If we spot nothing still, I’ll look around the sewers. Meet me at my gym if you come up empty.”

“Don’t bother.”

Bianca screamed and jumped, latching onto Iris. Iris wobbled dangerously on her feet before anchoring herself in place. Civilians that had gathered around them curiously also gasped and shrieked. Hil, Burgh, and Cheren whipped their heads to the person that had spoken, and Hil soon saw why everyone had panicked upon seeing him. He was tall and lithe, boasting solid black attire from head to toe, all except for a black mask that covered most of his face. Crudely drawn on in what looked like white charcoal, a wide, chaotic, Cheshire cat-like smile stretched from ear to ear, making him look quite deranged. Sunglasses blocked his eyes from view and messy, dark brown hair, oily and unclean, lay in clumps across his head. He had both of his hands stuffed into his baggy hoodie’s pockets. “The Munna thief booked it for the office across from your gym,” he added quickly. Hil noted that his voice trembled with effort, as if he were speaking differently than he was used to. “I’d have stopped them, but ah… seems the police are feeling extra antsy today. Had to ditch them to even get over here to you.”

Burgh glared at the man dressed in black with an intense gaze. Slowly, he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Who are you?” Hil found himself asking as he looked over the new guy curiously. He looked like he had jumped straight out of a heist film, like he was someone that would have held people hostage at the top of a tower. He turned to face Hil, but with all the garb and masking, it was difficult to tell what his expression was at all.

“Nobody at all,” he answered Hil softly. Nobody noticed, but Burgh flinched when he said that. He then gave a low whistle, and from the west end of the pier, a Samurott burst free of the water. It paused briefly in front of the guy in black, who swung a leg over its back and clung to the cream-colored armor on its head, and just like that, they were gone. It had dived for the other side of the pier, the guy still clinging to it, as if they had practiced it many times before.

Hil stared after them almost dazedly. That had been an amazing show of pokémon and person working together! He couldn’t believe someone like that was capable of such a feat! Not to mention the mask had honestly been cool… “Was that—”

“The thief,” Burgh sighed. “He sent off his Archeops so the police would go after it, so he could get away.”

“…And tell you about Bianca’s Munna’s whereabouts,” Cheren pointed out with crossed arms. “Just what was that about?”

“Who cares?” Hil snorted as he regarded Cheren. He jogged ahead of Burgh and threw a look over his shoulders. “We know where her Munna is! Burgh, let’s go get it!”

Burgh nodded quickly. “No time for that now, Cheren, care to follow us to go get her Munna back?”

“Am I the only one here with brain cells? The local thief just told us where the Munna is! Why are we trusting him? For all we know, he’s involved!”

Burgh waved him away and began to walk ahead. “Never mind that, Cheren. Hil, Cheren, Iris, Bianca, follow me, please. Now that we know where it’s at, I’d like you all to come with, keep you all with me.”

Hil fell into stride with the gym leader. Now that he had come to an understanding with Burgh, it felt rather comfortable to have him by his side. Cheren flanked the other side, muttering under his breath, while Iris and Bianca brought up the rear. Hil glanced back at her a couple of times and noted she was still hysterical despite the promise of getting her Munna back.

“It had already been through so much! And I let it get hurt again! Oh, Munny!” Bianca howled as they moved. Iris was helping hold her upright. She mumbled something Hil couldn’t understand again, and then wrapped an arm around Bianca’s shoulders tightly. Hil hardened his gaze and looked away. Whoever was responsible for this, there would be hell to pay. He would not let them get away with this, not if he could help it. He was going to help. He would never be useless when another person needed his help again.

Never, ever again.

It wasn’t long before they found their way to Burgh’s gym. Across the street from it, a nondescript office building sat wedged between a gaudy fashion boutique and a flower shop, shorter than either of them. Burgh protectively urged the rest of the group behind him and banged his fist on the door. “Gym Leader Burgh! Please answer!”

A man in an all-too familiar cloak and tall hat answered the door. At the sight of Burgh, his eyes bulged, and he brushed wiry gray hair from in front of his eyes. “Gym Leader Burgh! To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?”

Burgh took a deep breath and his lips pressed to a dangerously thin line. Whatever patience Burgh had seemed to evaporate. “I see you’re a Sage for Team Plasma,” he growled, “so tell me, why have I been told of a man thieving a girl’s Munna that scurried off to your establishment today? Do tell me, Sage, what is Team Plasma’s message, hmm? Take what you want from people? Because lately, I feel like that may be it!”

Hil couldn’t help the wild smirk that crossed his face. He glanced to Cheren and found he looked excited, even if a little apprehensive. Were they about to see Burgh stomp out some of the dark side of Team Plasma? That would be amazing, Hil thought darkly. Then his mind thought back to how Lenora’s Watchog had physically attacked one of the other Sages… he winced at the thought. He hoped it didn’t escalate to anything like that again… That had been hard to watch, a gym leader losing her cool like that…

The Sage held up his hands in surrender and backed up slightly. “No, no, Gym Leader Burgh, of course not! Please, all of you come inside, we’ll see what we can do to sort this out. My name is Sage Bronius.”

“No,” Burgh growled, throwing his left arm out to stop any of the children following him from entering the building. “No. I want to speak to your leader. Sage Ghetsis, isn’t that his name?”

“He’s not here,” Bronius answered cagily.

“Convenient,” Burgh retorted icily.

“Please, come inside,” Bronius insisted again, moving aside to give them room to enter. Hil could see the interior of the building looked normal. Stark, white walls, sterile tile flooring, a reception desk… it looked like how he’d imagine a normal office building. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure about the information they had been given… Perhaps Cheren had been right to question Burgh, but at the same time, he knew the gym leaders—especially Burgh—weren’t stupid. If Burgh had reason to believe the information he’d been given, then surely it was best to simply trust him? Questioning a gym leader’s judgment was an uncomfortable feeling…

Burgh silently entered the building at last, motioning for the kids to follow him. He never took his eyes off Bronius, and he made a conscious effort to try to keep the group behind him. Bronius gestured at a few soft, white recliners in the lobby, but Burgh pointedly refused.

“So, Gym Leader Burgh, what is the problem today?” Bronius asked kindly. He took a seat in one of those recliners and crossed his hands patiently over his lap.

Bianca burst into tears again and Iris hugged her close. “One of you stole her pokémon, that’s what!” Iris snarled.

“What do you mean?” Bronius blinked and cocked his head in concern. That stupid, gaudy hat tipped dangerously, ready to fall at any second. “We have not stolen any pokémon. We have claimed some from abusive trainers, yes, but not stolen.”

“It was a Munna,” Burgh explained coolly. “And define ‘claim.’”

“A Munna?” Bronius’ eyes bulged for a moment before he cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I… we did take in a Munna today. From a particularly nasty young girl, by what I was told.” Bianca howled a sob.

“You shut your mouth,” Cheren marched forward and actively shoved at Burgh when he tried to hold him back. Hil grabbed him by his shirt then.

“I’ll call my footman that took in the Munna,” Bronius sighed, rubbing his temple. He stood up and ambled over to a callbox next to an elevator. “Grunt Lancaster, please report to the lobby.”

Within a few minutes, the elevator doors opened, and a redheaded man in a silver hood exited. He froze when he saw everyone gathered in the lobby, the color draining from his face rapidly.

“You!” Hil spat, recognizing him right away. “You were one of those jerks in the Dreamyard!”

“Well, this just gets better and better,” Cheren growled.

“I know,” Bianca wailed desperately. “I-I-I s-saved Munny once, a-and then… th-then… she got taken r-right back by the m-m-man who b-beat her up!”

Iris murmured some more soothing, foreign words at her.

Lancaster swallowed hard and looked up at Bronius. The Sage scowled down at him. “What are they talking about, Grunt Lancaster? You told me this girl had beaten this Munna within an inch of its life.”

“Sh-she did!” Lancaster exclaimed lamely, scooting closer to Bronius as he did.

“Liar!” Hil stamped his foot and raised a Poké Ball. “I watched you kick it! I saw you! Did you really go back after her because you were mad you had to leave? It wasn’t even really Ghetsis there, anyway! It was a Musharna!”

“I know!” Lancaster snarled back at him suddenly. “I know, because I came back with the other grunt, Virgil, apologized to Ghetsis, and he had no idea what we were talking about! So, thank you, but I know!” His eyes blazed furiously. “And for your information, yes! I did take that Munna from her. To send a lesson.”

“Lancaster!” Bronius hissed. “How dare you—”

“It seems I was not invited to this party. How hurtful. I’m such a gracious host.”

Everyone fell silent as yet another person disembarked the elevator, but this time, there was no immediate accusatory screaming. Everyone fell quiet and took a step back, giving the man some space. It was Ghetsis, there was no doubt about it. The slack right half of his face clashed frighteningly with his devilish smirk. He raised his chin and overlooked the lobby. “What appears to be the problem, gentlemen?”

“I am tired of playing games. We just want this girl’s Munna back,” Burgh said sternly. “Give us the Munna back, and we’ll be out your hair.”

“Of course. Grunt Lancaster, give this girl her Munna back,” Ghetsis said calmly as he looked over the irate grunt. Lancaster eyed the floor, seeming to not have the nerve to glare at Ghetsis, and then hurled a Poké Ball at Burgh. Cheren caught it out from in front of him and bent down next to Bianca, handing her the ball tenderly. She squealed in excitement and hugged him and Iris both at once, spewing rapid ‘Thank yous’ as she went, even when she briefly looked up to cast a glance at Lancaster.

“Don’t thank him,” Iris scolded, “they stole it in the first place!”

Bianca didn’t have a response for that. She merely hugged them both tighter.

“Please do not misunderstand the actions of my selfish subordinate,” Ghetsis said, clearing his throat. Everyone’s attention was drawn back to him. “Grunt Lancaster will be reprimanded as seen fit. He does not define us. We must change hearts with words because violence just creates more violence. Puts more pokémon in harm’s way. Just like that poor Munna.”

His voice was dry and emotionless despite the inflection. Hil narrowed his eyes at him. He couldn’t quite place it, but he just didn’t like this guy.

“Then reign in your organization!” Burgh snarled at last, making everyone bar Ghetsis jump. “Everyone in this entire country can call me whatever they like, they can slander me six ways to Sunday on the news, they can say any actions I take against you are to silence you for propaganda for the League, but I will not stand for anything like this! Nobody will come to harm under my watch, understood? Make your speeches. Hand out your pamphlets. But if any more trainers are attacked here, do not expect me to just stand idly by!”

Ghetsis nodded along with Burgh’s speech thoughtfully, unfazed by his yelling. “A moving expression, Gym Leader Burgh. Your determination is admirable, especially considering how you would let your reputation go up in smoke for your cause. It’s people like you that allow Team Plasma to be so effective. You’re an intelligent man. I am truly sorry you had a run in with one of our lesser members.” He sighed. “And I am also truly sorry that the public has decided you are to blame for so much recently. The public can be cruel, we would know. We just want people to reconsider their relationships with their pokémon. That’s all. Our extremists do not define us.”

Hil gritted his teeth. That was it. The inflection without emotion suddenly made sense. Hil remembered the holidays and birthdays spent with Vince in the time while he was training there in Castelia. He would laugh and joke, but he would always look like he was somewhere else. His voice would change in tone, but it felt tired and as if it took all the effort he had to do so. Even if now he understood Vince’s reasons were likely far different from Ghetsis’, the ultimate goal was the same—deceive and lull the other into a false sense of security.

“Let’s go,” Hil said quietly. “We got what we came for. Let’s leave and call the police on them. Don’t listen to him.”

“Agreed,” Burgh said as he looked at Hil, shaking his head as if to shake away what Ghetsis had said.

Burgh led everyone out of the lobby. Neither Ghetsis or Bronius tried to stop them, and Lancaster was too busy cowering against a wall to say anything. Once they had left, Bronius had sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I can’t believe you did that, Grunt Lancaster. I am deeply ashamed. If we use pokémon to satisfy our personal vendettas, then we are no different from those that abuse and use them as tools in battle.”

“I am growing weary of the complaints against you, Lancaster,” Ghetsis mused as he shot the grunt a deadly, piercing look. “Watch your step.” Ghetsis suddenly raised his left leg and brought his foot down hard against Lancaster’s right shoe. The grunt yelped and staggered, losing balance and landing on his elbow. “Didn’t I tell you that you were lucky to escape the Dreamyard incident with your friend alive? Perhaps the gym leader is right. I do need to reign in my team. Bronius.”

Bronius perked his head up. “Yes?”

“We’re leaving this office here in Castelia. I have no more need of it.” He chuckled darkly. “Was fun to have a hideout across from the gym leader of the most populous city in Unova while it lasted, but I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

“…Yes, Lord Ghetsis. I’ll gather everyone in the lobby.”

“Thank you.” Ghetsis took a deep breath and then raised his left arm high. “Shadow Triad, come to me!”

0 notes

oops-prow-did-it-again · 4 years

Text

Pokémon Black: The Novel - Chapter 11 (Good Instincts)

Prologue and more info

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Pokémon Black: The Novel on FFN

Pokémon Black: The Novel on AO3

Pokémon Retold the series on AO3

----------------------------

Tension made the air heavy around Burgh and Hil as they made their way out of Nacrene City and into the forestry to its western end. They moved quickly, having no time to waste, and Hil was grateful for that; it gave them no time to worry about the lack of discourse between them. Once they reached the end of the urban pathway and broke into the canopy of Pinwheel Forest, Burgh stopped them both and threw a glance over his left shoulder.

“I’m going to cut them off at the very end of the path, and make sure they didn’t already escape. If you need any help, just call, and I’m sure the forest bugs will tell me,” Burgh said perkily. The forced nature of his voice was not lost on Hil. Burgh snickered and winked. “If I catch up to them, I’ll come let you know.”

“Okay,” was all Hil answered him with. Burgh jolted, as if he had paused just as he went to move, but he took off down the straightaway path through Pinwheel Forest without saying anything further. Hil looked after him and mockingly sneered, “The forest bugs will tell me. What is he, Dr. Dolittle?” He rolled his eyes and marched into the beaten grass pathway of Pinwheel’s deeper forestry. He kicked at piles of leaves as he went and scoured the trees for any signs of… of what? He suddenly realized he had no idea what he was supposed to even be looking for. Someone holding a skull? Would they have just been waltzing around holding it in their palm? Wearing it like a mask? He supposed it was too big for that… This was so stupid.

The forest seemed empty for the most part. He spotted a couple of rangers tending to the wildlife or recording data, but they paid him no mind as he passed, still following the yellowed path of grass. He stopped on occasion to ask them if they had seen anything suspicious, but most looked as if they had been too engrossed in their work to pay anyone else any heed at all. It wasn’t until the fourth or fifth ranger he asked that they knew anything. She said she had seen a group of men, cloaked in baggy, obscuring garb, bolt past her, each of them helping to cradle something massive in their hold. As soon as they had passed, a group of black-clad men had followed, Poké Balls clutched in their hands at the ready.

She pointed in the direction they went and then tipped her reddish hat. “I called police and Gym Leader Lenora, but if you’re here to help now, that’s good. Maybe you can keep ‘em busy.” Her face flushed a little red and she rapidly added, “Not that I wouldn’t if I could! I just don’t have a team on me right now,” she muttered. “I’m just out gatherin’ data on berries around here, you see.”

Hil blankly looked her over and nodded. Sure, he’d keep them busy, for about two minutes probably, if his previous battles were any indication. He decided to just force a smile. “Thanks, miss,” he mused and then continued after where she had motioned toward. Noodle stirred from within his hood and he paused for a second, letting the Snivy unfurl across his shoulders.

“You get a good nap?” Hil teased dryly.

Yawning widely, Noodle shook out his leafy extremities and relaxed against Hil’s neck. Somehow, he had fallen asleep during the trek through the forest, and he seemed not the least bit bothered by the predicament. Hil snorted at his lackadaisical attitude and then noted that part of the path the ranger had pointed out included a molded, rotten log. He grumbled something under his breath as he started to poke around the log for footholds, and then peered inside of it. It was coated in moss, to the point it felt more like slime in the forest’s natural dampness than anything. He recoiled with a curl of his lips, fighting back the urge to vomit. There was no way he was going through there!

Then Noodle, as if willed by a spirit, hopped clear of his shoulders and onto the log. He scurried over its surface and then landed easily on the other side.

“Noodle!” Hil hissed. “Get back over here, dude, what are you doing?”

Noodle chuffed at him and sat down, curling his tail about himself comfortably. Then, he smirked at Hil with a half-lidded expression.

Hil scowled at him. “I wish I could talk to you sometimes,” he chuckled uneasily. “Is there something over there?”

Noodle tilted his head and looked over his shoulder, ahead of the log. Just like that, he scurried off into the dark canopy. Alarmed, Hil immediately forgot his reservations over the disgusting log and dug his nails and shoes into the dilapidated wood. It bent and groaned under his weight and mossy sludge caught on his fingers, but he failed to notice, and the log didn’t give way until the very end. His foot crashed through the roof and into the slimy interior just as he reached the other side. Gritting his teeth, he kicked away the rotten material, and sped off after Noodle.

He breathed a loud sigh of relief when he spotted the Snivy waiting patiently in the forest path. Slowing, Hil panted and bent over, pressing his hands to his knees. “Don’t you ever,” he puffed, “do… do that again.” After a couple seconds of rest, he scooped Noodle up and held him by his midsection tightly. Noodle only trilled, a squeaky, high-pitched, shrill noise loud enough to awaken the entire forest. Some Pidove fluttered through the trees overhead and snapping branches sounded. Hil clutched Noodle closely to his chest as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings. They had wandered well off the worn path at this point and the canopy and towering trees meant it was much darker than it had been just a few minutes before he had crossed the log.

“Ow!” someone hissed from the tree line. Hil and Noodle both whipped their heads to look at the source. Hil’s heart pumped faster and faster even though his heels dug further into the leafy ground underfoot.

“Damn it, Cal! Thing’s heavy, hold your end!”

“Sorry, that loud noise, just… what was it?”

“I don’t know, a pokémon? We’re in a forest!”

“Knock it off, keep moving, Sage Gorm’s gonna be here soon,” came an eerily familiar voice. Hil couldn’t put his finger on where he’d heard it before, but he knew he recognized it. Narrowing his eyes carefully, he pressed into the trees. “I don’t have time for you guys to fight. Fight later on your own time.”

“What have I gotten myself into,” Hil breathed as he picked his way through thick underbrush, wrenching thorns out of his pants as they raked into him. Leaves became caught in his shoes as he went, and he winced as he felt cuts forming across his exposed skin. Finally, ahead, he saw movement in the forestry unrelated to him. He froze and Noodle wriggled free of his grasp. He reclaimed his position on Hil’s hat and growled, a low, tiny rumble.

A group of men were in a clearing just ahead of the thicket of forestry Hil had found himself in. There were six or so of them, each hoisting up something massive covered in a black shawl. Hil could only assume it was the enormous skull of the Dragon-type skeleton Lenora was missing. Their arms strained and shook, and then they each let go of the item all at once, just inches from the ground. They jumped away and complained about the pain in their hands. It was hard to make out what any one of them was wearing, but Hil could tell they were each dressed in baggy, dark clothing. Garments blotting the view of their faces tended to be more noticeable.

“Sage Gorm should be here soon,” one in a blue face mask grunted at the others. “Until then, we keep quiet, and we wait.”

“Why on earth did we go running through the forest like this?” one with a dark crimson bandana around his mouth spat. “Couldn’t the Triad have just—”

“The Triad were busy, and they have more important business to tend to,” Blue Mask cut him off harshly. Hil frowned. He was the one whose voice sounded familiar. Ugh, if only he could place it…

“Busy? More important matters doing what, Marlon? Suckin’ off—”

“I take it you aren’t going to finish that sentence,” a tall, foreboding newcomer cut off Crimson Bandana. Crimson Bandana yelped and stumbled away. He clung to the shawl covering up the skull. “And that is no way to address the leader of your squadron.”

“Sage Gorm, my deepest apologies,” Crimson Bandana’s apology spilled free almost right away. “I am not sure what came over me.”

“Team Plasma appreciates your efforts today,” Sage Gorm continued smoothly as he stepped into a few shafts of sunshine that had managed to penetrate the leaves overhead. Hil swallowed hard and thought back to the group gathered at Nacrene City just before he and Cheren had headed into the museum. This was the same man that had been leading the rally! His sophisticated cloak, the tall, monk-like hat—it was him! Bewildered, he strained his eyes through the dense trees to try and make out more details of Blue Mask. Blue Mask marched up to Sage Gorm and dipped his head, causing messy, dark blue hair to flop forward.

“He was in Wellspring Cave,” Hil whispered breathlessly aloud. “They’re Team Plasma… they’re all Team Plasma.” But why the Dragon-type pokémon skull from the Nacrene City Museum? What could they possibly hope to gain by that? He went to carefully put another foot forward, but then felt pressure on his back and a hand snaked around his front, covering his mouth. Suddenly, he was being squeezed tightly.

“Shh, shh, it’s just me!” Burgh hissed. Hil bucked and rolled his entire body before the words registered, effectively throwing the gym leader onto his back and Hil himself into a dying tree, bruising his shoulder. Whatever Burgh had hoped to accomplish, he had either overestimated his own small body or underestimated Hil’s strength when frightened. The crunching of leaves and Noodle’s squeal that came following the encounter caused the Team Plasma men ahead to fall completely silent as their heads all turned to face the tree line. Hil brushed himself off and shakily clambered to his feet.

“What was that?” Hil spluttered once he was balanced again, glaring at Burgh hatefully. “Can’t you warn someone without grabbing ‘em like that?”

“Please, keep your voice down,” Burgh begged, “I just didn’t want you to be loud, I knew no matter what, making my presence known would scare you—”

“So, you grab me like you’re about to murder me?” Hil shrieked. Baring his teeth like a feral Lillipup, he snarled, “Burgh, you are the—”

“Who’s there? Show yourselves!” Blue Mask—Marlon, Hil corrected himself—barked. “Or we will not hesitate to use force!”

Burgh’s attempt to keep him silent had only pushed Hil to forget about the delicate situation altogether. His yelling had finally caught Team Plasma’s attention. He shook his head in disbelief at Burgh before he stumbled nervously into the clearing ahead of the Team Plasma agents. Burgh followed, deftly dodging the thorns and thin, whip-like branches sticking off the younger trees in the underbrush. He already had a hand on a Poké Ball as he exited. His face was unreadable and stern, a stark contrast to the goofiness usually plastered there, and he said nothing. Hil, a mess of nerves now that the adrenaline was ebbing, touched Noodle’s smooth head and tail for strength.

“Gym Leader Burgh,” Sage Gorm exclaimed with a twinge of surprise. “You’ve come all this way to say ‘hello?’ I do say, you must be getting desperate for friends.”

Burgh’s jaw clenched somewhat tighter. Hil’s eyes widened at the aggressiveness in Gorm’s words. This didn’t sound like the man that had been rallying for justice for deceased pokémon just hours earlier.

“That Dragon Skull doesn’t belong to you,” Hil choked after a few panicked breaths. He cringed when Sage Gorm moved over to him. “I-it… it’s Lenora’s… for the museum…”

“Yes, well, it seems neither of us understand what it is she has,” Sage Gorm muttered. “See, our scientists had reason to believe this skull belonged to one of the Dragons of Unova.”

Marlon and the other Team Plasma agents began to whisper confusedly to one another. Sage Gorm raised a hand to quell them.

“Yes, I’m afraid I was just instructed by some researchers as you were in the process of taking this skull that it is completely unrelated,” Sage Gorm admitted. “I apologize for having not been able to contact you earlier.”

“Even if it was, what use do you have for it?” Burgh asked calmly despite the furious glint in his green eyes. He had straightened his form out and regained his composure. His hands were touched to his hips in the slightest expression of irritation. “Are you all not meant to be a peaceful organization?”

“We are peaceful,” Sage Gorm answered matter-of-factly. “We used a nontoxic smokebomb to prevent harm to any creature, pokémon or otherwise, at the museum. Our agents have been instructed to never lay a hand on someone themselves. However, at the time our research suggested that this skull was important to our mission. I’m afraid I cannot give more details than that unless you are interested in joining us, of course, Gym Leader Burgh.” Marlon giggled at that comment, as did a few of the others. Sage Gorm’s eyes gleamed. “After all, I don’t think too many people would be surprised.”

Hil gnawed at his lip. This felt so unfair and… wrong. He looked to Burgh almost apologetically and found the gym leader’s arms were trembling, but he did not break under the pressure, nor did he freeze. He responded in kind. “I don’t care what others are saying about me,” he said tersely, “they can spread the buzz of rumors to the hive all they like, but they’re still just rumors.” Burgh smiled softly. “At least I am not the one trying to use a dead man’s legacy as leverage.”

Hil remained silent and looked to his shoes. They were smudged in layers of green and brown from the mud and moss he had trudged through. As Team Plasma and Burgh shot remarks back and forth, he caught onto what Burgh was doing. He was speaking defensively, and his active refusal to show any emotion if he could help it spoke volumes. The jester of a gym leader was hedging his bets between his ability to negotiate and his status as gym leader to protect Hil. And at Burgh’s last comment, Hil couldn’t help but wonder… He hadn’t even thought of it before. How had Vince’s accident affected Castelia’s leader? He felt horribly ashamed to have only just thought of that. Burgh’s actions and behavior all seemed to fall into place in one terrible moment of realization, like some twisted jigsaw puzzle.

“Well, I would say we have no need of this skull anymore,” Sage Gorm interrupted Hil’s thoughts, “but you two won’t be taking it, either. Nobody was supposed to know it was Team Plasma stealing the skull. We can’t allow you to jeopardize our social standing. I’m sure Burgh would understand all about how unforgiving the public can be.”

“Leave him alone,” Hil interjected at last. His fists had clenched at his sides and though he still stared at the ground, his eyes had narrowed angrily. He knew how awful it was to feel everyone else’s judgment constantly and he had realized Burgh had never once judged him. Burgh had been scared and uncertain of what to do. Hil understood how that felt as well. Soon, he was seething, adrenaline flowing again, and Noodle leapt off his shoulders as he sensed his trainer’s growing aggravation. He, too, was ready for a fight. “I don’t care who you are, I am not gonna just stand here and let you talk to him like that!”

“Hil, it’s okay, let me handle this,” Burgh tried to soothe him.

“No,” Hil shook his head. “No. We battle together. Because these idiots are leaving, we’re going to get Lenora’s skull back, and we’re going to blast this incident across every news station in Unova!” Hil grinned wickedly at Sage Gorm at that. “Bet you’d really like that, huh? Get a taste of your own medicine.”

Burgh openly contemplated what Hil had said for a moment. With a sigh and a toothy grin, the gym leader tossed a Poké Ball and a Leavanny appeared next to them. Burgh shrugged. “Sorry fellas. As a gym leader, I can’t let this kid face you alone. Also, before you get to droning on and on about pokémon liberation again, I’ve already considered your point of view and I’ve considered it to be wrong. I’ve done nothing but love my pokémon all my life and they love me. I’ve given them every chance in the world to leave, and if they wanted to, they would have already. All your speeches have taught me is that I should make the best effort I can to show my pokémon how much they mean to me.”

Leavanny crossed its leafy arms and waved its antennae animatedly. Burgh chuckled. He likely could tell what Leavanny was wanting to say by just its antennae movements, Hil reasoned.

Just as Sage Gorm had prepared to toss the Poké Ball in his own hand, a Watchog burst from the trees and dove at his arm, sinking its fangs deeply into him. Gorm howled and shook his arm wildly. Eventually, the Watchog finally let go with the sickening sound of ripping flesh, and landed on its back legs in front of Burgh’s Leavanny.

“And there’s more where that came from if you morons don’t split!” Lenora hollered fiercely as she stumbled into the clearing after her Watchog, on the opposite side of Hil as Burgh. She glowered at Sage Gorm in a way that made Hil fairly certain if looks could kill, he’d have dropped dead in that instant. She turned her gaze to Marlon and the other Team Plasma members as well. “Now unless y’all all want some, get!”

At first, only few listened, retreating into the trees, but when Watchog stared at them like it was preparing to attack again, the rest fled. Sage Gorm, grabbing at his bleeding arm, was the last to leave. Prior to running after his men, he sneered after Lenora, “What a wretched human, to use a pokémon to assault another fellow human being. You make me sick, Gym Leader Lenora. Your violence will not be forgotten. All of Unova will know!”

“Just as all of Unova will know about your stunt at the museum!” Hil snapped hotly, invigorated by the gym leaders on either side of him.

“Stupid gym challenger,” Gorm cracked a lopsided smile. “Nobody will believe it was actually us. They will believe it was a copycat or that thief in Castelia striking elsewhere. Now this?” He held up his injured arm. “That’s physical proof.”

With that, he jogged into the forest. “Of just any Watchog, not necessarily mine!” Lenora yelled defensively, starting to spit curses under her breath and march after them, until Burgh grabbed her cape and shook his head at her. “No, Lenora,” he said hoarsely. “No. Let them go.”

“Why? Someone needs to teach those punks a lesson!”

“What lesson? That gym leaders are violent and will attack you if you speak out against the League?”

“No! That they can’t just steal from people and get away with it! That they can’t keep hidin’ behind that stupid peaceful guise they got because it ain’t true—”

“Lenora!” Burgh stamped a foot. “Please, calm down, you’re in front of a gym challenger. And attacking them won’t teach anyone any of that, I’m afraid.”

Lenora and Burgh both glanced to Hil. Lenora groaned and shook her head irritably. “C’mon, Watchog, we’ll go report this incident to the police and see if they can’t help us move this skull back to the museum, considerin’ they didn’t break it.” She pointedly looked at Burgh. “Even though I know reportin’ it is useless because the police won’t do anything about Team Plasma!”

She and her Watchog then dispersed, leaving Hil and Burgh alone again. Burgh rubbed the back of his head and chewed his lip a little. He held up a Poké Ball to his Leavanny, as if asking her if she wanted to go back in, and she dipped her head respectfully as she touched a scythe-like hand to its button. Sucked back in with a flash of red, Burgh tucked the ball away in a pocket. “Hil, I’m sorry about all of that,” he sighed. “I was hoping they would just find me, and then I could deal with them, and get you buzzing with excitement for my gym—”

“Don’t be,” Hil softly cut him off.

“Don’t be what?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hil clarified and scuffed the leaves on the ground. “I should be apologizing. I’m sorry for being so mean with you. I can tell now that you just… are doing your best. Doing your best like I am. It’s all we can do, really,” Hil laughed sadly. “I realized I had been so stuck in my head I didn’t even think about what my dad’s… my dad’s accident may have done to you.”

There was a short silence and he thought he heard Burgh sniffle. “Ah, it’s not your place to worry about me,” Burgh explained gently. “But… I… I do appreciate it.”

“It kinda made me realize we all could use some friends, after that,” Hil said quietly. “Um… For now, though… I’m beat, and I’m worried about Cheren and Bianca. Do you think you could help me back to Nacrene City…? I chased Noodle for part of it, and… I’m not entirely sure of the way back…”

Burgh beamed excitedly. Hil having asked him for help seemed to breathe life into him. “Of course, Hil!”

-------------

As Hil and Burgh approached the Nacrene City Pokémon Center, both were making visible, concerted efforts to pick their feet up off the ground. The trekking throughout Pinwheel Forest and the adrenaline-fueled confrontation within its trees had sapped all the energy from both of their bodies. Hil especially was struggling. He lagged and lagged until Burgh had to offer his assistance in helping him walk.

“There he is!”

Bianca’s scream made Hil’s whole head throb, but he hadn’t the energy to cringe at the loud noise. She rushed at them, and Hil braced himself for an unprompted hug, but she managed to stop just short of doing so and her eyes turned up in worry. “Oh, Hil! What happened? Are you okay? And Gym Leader Burgh! Oh, gosh, come on, you two, into the Pokémon Center.”

“We’re fine,” Hil coughed, “just… very… very tired…”

Burgh helped haul him into the building and then claimed a room for himself from the Nurse Joy. He explained that although he had a studio apartment further down the road, he didn’t think he could do anymore traveling that day. After making sure Cheren and Bianca had Hil taken care of, he disappeared into his room.

Hil fought his way to the public bath on the hostel floor above the main lobby and, a little guiltily, claimed the disabled shower for himself so he could sit on the fold-out seat to give his screaming legs a break. Cheren had helped make sure he had any supplies he may have needed before he entered, and after a longer shower than any normal person may have needed, he headed to the room he, Cheren, and Bianca would be sharing for the evening. Cheren was curled up in the bottom bunk on the left side of the room with his nose buried in a book while his pokémon gathered around him, some sleeping, some glancing at the book’s pages as well.

When Hil collapsed in the bed, he felt something hard push through the fabric of his shirt, and he sat back up slowly to see what it was. He was annoyed at that, exhaustion making him cranky, but when he saw what the source of the discomfort was, he gasped. He snatched up the thin, rectangular piece of metal and found a piece of scribbled paper was attached by a piece of tape.

“Dear Hil Whitacre,

I heard everything you said today while you were out there with Burgh before I sent my Watchog after that guy. You seem to think yourself mundane and unremarkable—you’re very nervous—but you can’t be stopped when you’re fighting for truth. I think that’s extraordinary. I don’t need to test you in battle to know you’re more than deserving of the Basic Badge. In fact, I’d say it’d be a little insulting to put you up against me.

So, I, Gym Leader Lenora of Nacrene City, hereby award you this Basic Badge as I have every right to do.

Regards,

Lenora.”

“Pretty cool, right?”

Hil slowly looked up at Cheren.

“She gave that to me and wanted me to give it to you,” Cheren yawned. “I didn’t know when you’d be back from the shower, so I just left it there.” Cheren gave an awkward smile and then climbed into his bed. He sighed audibly and flicked through a few pages of his book. Seemingly growing bored with it, he flicked it at the nightstand next to his bed.

Hil wasn’t sure what he felt. Whatever euphoria or reservations he may have had was silenced by the sheer exhaustion prying at his bones. Deciding he’d think about it tomorrow, he placed the thin piece of metal on the bedside table and curled up only halfway underneath the covers before he’d fallen asleep. Noodle curled into a neat ball on his hip. Bianca was the last to arrive at the room for the night, rolling her eyes at the chaotic state of it, and she took care of the remaining members of Hil’s party, not that she blamed him for being tired.

She was just glad they were all back together again. Hopefully, it would stay that way. Based on how difficult the day had been, however, she foresaw them staying in Nacrene City for a little while longer… Hil would certainly need the rest after all of that!

0 notes