Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
Sorry for the delay, only just got home.
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Gazing out over the strewn rubble from the smashed gravestones, the pools of toxic miasma feebly struggling to pull themselves together, and our exhausted, injured group, Agatha of the Elite Four clicked her tongue idly while tapping her cane to the same beat.
"All in all, not bad at all. Far better than I was prepared for to get that ancient bastard. Why, everybody's alive! Will miracles never cease?"
"No thanks to you!" It would probably be smarter to keep my mouth shut, but the emotional whiplash was still catching up to me, never mind everybody except Hercules being unconscious.
Well, plus the Honedge wrapped around my arm, but I still had to figure that out.
"I very much disagree. In fact, I'd say you're alive because of me. You were warned about going inside, weren't you? You should be on your knees, thanking me for my graciousness. " She didn't even bother looking at me, instead glancing over her shoulder to the rows of veiled girls with a glare. "Well? Don't just stand there, get to it! Do you need me to wipe your bottom as well?"
In a flurry of dark cloth, we were suddenly surrounded by the kimonoed girls as their own Ghost-Types made their appearance, each of the grave tenders accompanied by at least one Misdreavus and a Gastly.
"If you would be so kind as to release your Pokémon, good sir," I squinted at the one that stopped by me, trying to peer through her facial covering. Next to me, Hercules held out his hands without issue – purple and black veins pulsing angrily against the irritated skin, fur mostly dissolved – letting the Gastly disperse into a toxic cloud that swirled around his poisoned appendages while the Misdreavus chanted softly.
"Mito? That you?" I questioned, then released the rest of my team, once I saw that even Gary did as asked without making a fuss. The Pokémon attending Herc immediately switched targets to Siren upon seeing her, a thin line of toxic blood drawn from her mouth and into the Gastly as her scales shone dull, Distortion being pulled from her by the other ghost.
"No, it is not. My name is Miko, good sir." The girl had me questioning my own sanity as I could've sworn she sounded just like the one from earlier. Maybe I got the name wrong?
"Do you have, like, a twin or something?"
"We are all brothers and sisters here." I heard the smile in the nonsensical answer and felt my eyebrow twitch. I'd had just about enough of the pretentious mystery garbage they insisted on in Lavender.
Before I could show my growing displeasure, the Lavender native was unknowingly saved by Agatha.
"Don't bother, child, they won't tell you. They have a long tradition of not answering anything in a straight manner. Think it adds to the atmosphere." As she was talking, the old woman hobbled over to the curled-up Onix. "Up you get, you big lump." Prodding it a couple of times, she got no answer.
Lifting her cane, she started banging it against the Rock-Type with considerable force. "OI, GET OUT HERE, YOU LAZY BASTARDS! I'VE FIXED YOUR MESS ALREADY, ENOUGH HIDING!"
Still nothing. A twitch developed in Agatha's left eye.
"Ignore me, will you. Show them why it's a bad idea to ignore Mommy, won't you, sweetie?"
I cringed slightly at the sudden sugar-sweet voice the Wraith of Kanto – as I'd heard her addressed – even as her shadow parted and a section darted around Rick's Onix. Expanding, the wide-brimmed hat of a Mismagius popped out, mouth open much wider than should be possible.
I had just enough time for my eyes to dilate and my hands to clamp over my ears before a Screech that rivaled the Black Fog's ripped through the air, only much more concentrated. A cone of rippling air vibrations blasted straight into Onix's face, and whatever organs it had that passed for ears, its eyes leaping open instantly.
"OOOOOOOOOONN!" The massive Pokémon cried out, flinching away so violently that it smashed its head into the floor on the opposite side, unfolding in the process. In the middle, a bleary-eyed Mountain Man Rick fell over, having tried to stand up after his sudden awaking, and almost landed back on the Unconscious Hex Maniac Selene.
"Have a nice nap?" Agatha mocked as another pair of Caretakers rushed over to the last injured members of our party. "You were told to wait until the Fog had been handled. The sentiment is… nice, I suppose, but graves are for the living. The dead don't care, and throwing your life away is a poor way to show your appreciation."
Rick mumbled something in response that I couldn't hear – or be able to understand even if I could make it out – and reached into the side pocket of his backpack. I blinked in surprise when his hand returned, clutching a black PokéBall, Gary stiffening beside me.
Mr. Fuji's words returned to me about the two others besides Gary and me who were going in.
One for money and one for mourning.
Now I felt bad for laughing at the guy.
"Amateurs," the Ghost Mistress snorted, moving on and poking the downed l Selene non-too-gently with her cane, "always thinking they know best. I warned the silly girl, but did she listen? Of course not, bah! Arrogance of youth, I tell you."
Rick looked over at me and pointed to himself in silent question, making me shrug in response. She might just have been talking to herself.
"Whatever. All's well that ends well, or whatever you kids say." Agatha shrugged, turning back to the rest of us. "The girls will get your Pokémon back on their feet and show you to an empty grave so you can do your business. Afterwards, I highly suggest you leave my tower before the little ones take your continued presence as an invitation to a round two."
I nodded despite the many, many questions I had about the Pokémon Tower, recognizing that it wasn't the time. Instead, I moved to sit down next to Gary, only for a cane between my shoulders to force me back up.
"Are you burying someone?" I didn't even get a chance to respond before she continued. "Didn't think so. Saying goodbye is a private event. Have some respect."
I instinctively wanted to protest, but Gary's face caught my eye at the last moment. Turning to look, he quickly averted his own gaze, but I got the message.
"Fine," I did my best to sound as neutral as possible. I understood. It kind of hurt a little, but I got it. "I'll… wait outside, I suppose."
"You can help an old woman up the stairs, more like. I need to check the upper floors, and my knees aren't what they used to be." Even the tenders of the Pokémon Tower looked at the officially second strongest Trainer in Kanto in disbelief. "We can talk about that thing on your arm on the way. Leave your PokéBalls here; the girls will bring them to you after."
"No fucking shot." The words left my mouth before I even had a chance to think about it, but I stood by them. While tips on Ghost-Types from a Ghost-Type Master sounded awesome, there was no way I was leaving the rest of my team alone for it.
I'd done… okay, figuring things out for myself up to that point, thank you very much.
"Oh?" Hobbling over to me, one of Agatha's pink eyes glinted vermillion while the other matched the ethereal blue of the Will-O'-Wisps above her. The clack of her cane echoed deeply as she planted it in front of her, her seemingly frail body appearing to loom over me despite my height advantage. My breath was visible, cold sweat gathering on the back of my neck. The earlier feeling of being watched returned with a vengeance as the fog seemingly closed in on me. I gulped, feeling pinpricks on my Adam's apple, like sharp canines grazing my flesh. "Do you think I'd need to separate you from your Pokémon if I had ill intentions?" Bone white flashes between her purple lips, needle-like teeth poking through.
I gritted my teeth, but not even I could delude myself into believing the answer was anything other than the truth. The Black Fog had been kicking our asses basically without effort, and the Elite Four member treated the Haunter like a kid.
"... no."
"Good, then shut up and carry my bag."
I grunted in surprise as her shadow once more moved, a large, lavender handbag being launched out with a comical spitting noise and hitting me in the chest. The owner of said bag had already started shuffling into the mist without waiting for me.
Struggling with myself, it was ultimately the Honedge wrapped around me that decided for me. As much as I genuinely, truly hated leaving my team behind, getting tips on an unfamiliar Type – especially one as notoriously difficult, if not outright dangerous as Ghost-Type – from one of the greatest known Masters in the Region, if not the world, had to take precedent.
Turning to Hercules, on account of being the only one up, I didn't bother lowering my voice, knowing the black-clad attendants could hear me as I handed over my belt.
"If they even twitch suspiciously, you start swinging, okay?"
The Electabuzz grunted and held out a hand for a fistbump. Returning it, I patted him on the shoulder, ignoring the slight shock I got, and reluctantly turned around and left them behind, venturing into the surrounding haze.
Thankfully, Agatha didn't move very fast, and I caught up quickly. Even then, the others had already disappeared behind us, so second thoughts were useless.
Almost as if she could hear my thoughts, the Ghost Mistress glanced at me from the corner of her eye as she led the way, navigating between the gravestones without looking where she was going.
"Feel free to wander, if you want. I might even remember to pick you up."
I wanted to retort with something witty, but a large statue of a Raticate mid-leap appeared out of nowhere, forcing me to dodge.
"With this much Distortion around? I'm not that dumb." I grumbled, picking up my pace. Despite limping along casually, I could've sworn Agatha was speeding up.
"Distortion? Been talking to Psychics?" She asked, taking a turn as the wall suddenly came into existence in front of us, the staircase to the fourth floor straight ahead of us. It was a little annoying, waiting for her to grunt her way up the fairly long flight, but I held my tongue for once.
"One or two," I answered her question cagily. The Elite Four member might have saved us, but that didn't mean I was going to trust her automatically.
"Distortion." She mused as we strolled through the all-encompassing fog. In contrast to how Gary and I'd fumbled our way around, Agatha moved with an absolute surety, not as much as glancing around as she led the way. We also got to the stairs leading up to the fifth floor in minutes. "It's not a bad name. Better than Ghost-Type, anyway, bah! Superstitious fools, yapping about things they don't understand."
"So they're not actually ghosts?" I looked down at the still Honedge. Good to know I didn't have a dead person attached to me.
"Depends on what you mean." Or not. "While it's true that the fundamental building block of a Ghost-Type comes from the deceased, that's like saying a plant is the ghost of a seed. Just because something comes from somewhere doesn't mean it stays that way. Ghosts are no different." As we walked, the shadows of graves and monuments grew taller and taller, soon as tall as me, and then taller. Whispers grew louder, almost distinct, but they were different from earlier ones. In the presence of the Black Fog, they had felt inhospitable and hostile, a predator lurking just out of sight. In contrast, after the Haunter's death, they were… friendly was the wrong word, but there was a neutrality, a simple curiosity. "How much do you know about the Distorted, as you said. How they come to be, how they sustain themselves?"
"Fuji said they feed off emotions." My new Vulpix and Gary's Clefairy flashed through my mind. Was there a connection between Ghost- and Fairy-Type?
"For someone that friendly, the old man plays his cards close to his chest. Or he hasn't learned anything about ghosts since moving here, but I doubt he could keep himself from poking something for more than a few days." We walked in silence for a bit as Agatha visibly mulled over her answer. "It's technically not wrong, what Fuji said. It's about the emotions, yes, but it's about more than that. I don't care enough to get into it, but as even a simpleton like yourself must've noticed, Pokémon has a certain… energy."
"Grant called it Aura. Talked about people using it too." That was a lie, but even if Agatha questioned the old man, there was a decent chance he'd assume that he'd done it and forgotten.
"Senile fool, giving babies knowledge they're not ready for." Her lip curled, a flash of too sharp teeth peeking through as the light reflected off her shining eyes. "Thought the whole point of these rules and changes was to keep kiddies out of the way. Bah, whatever. If you get yourself killed, it's your problem, not mine. Aura is one name, yes; Type energy, Chi, Ki, the power of the soul. If you know where to look, you'll find a hundred different terms, but it's all the same shit. It's the essence of a being, the truth of their existence aligned with a natural force. Pokémon are capable of manipulating this force, or energy, instinctively, but as you said, some humans can do it too."
"And what does this have to do with Ghost-Types not being dead people or Pokémon?" Furthermore, how did the Distortion World fit into that?"
"Is that really the question you want to ask?" Agatha suddenly stopped and turned around, both hands planted on the top of her cane as she stared at me.
Looking around – to no avail, as I could barely see a few feet ahead at that point, Agatha's face hazy despite me being right in front of her – I frowned to myself. Unlike the fourth floor, we'd been walking for a while. The Ghost-Type Master and Lavender native was undoubtedly more familiar with the Pokémon Tower than I, but I guess even she could get lost. Which was a problem since the Distortion saturating the world around us had rapidly increased-
I stopped, my breath hitching with the freezing air, feeling it scorch my lips on the exhale before shooting out of my mouth as a plume of vapor.
"This is not the fifth floor."
"Took you long enough. Your senses are terrible, hah!" Her cane lashed out, the mist swirling as it almost blurred in and out of reality, warping and twisting before it struck the side of my head, entirely physical.
"OW! What the shit!?"
"That should've passed right through a human." She hummed easily, leaning forward to get right in my face. "Or a normal human, at least. But then, who can remain ordinary when they've gone where you have?"
I froze at the implication, head snapping up from where I'd been rubbing my cane mark just in time to see the old crone take a step backwards and literally vanish right in front of my eyes, the fog moving around her and leaving an afterimage for a second before it faded.
"I knew the truth from a hundred feet away. You reek." I held out Honedge as I spun around, trying to find the voice that came from all around. A deafening sniff inches from my ear. I whirled around, blade swinging, to see the giant fanged grin fade into the fog, the haunting eyes of the Gengar lingering for a moment.
"You've tried to smother it, to deny it, but you can't hide from me. No matter how many years pass, Distortion itself is imprinted on your very being. I know where you've been."
A shadow darted by me, and then another on the other side. A dozen more followed, surrounding me in a cage of gleaming fangs, crimson eyes, and foul snickers. I did my best to track them, yet had no real chance of doing so, even as Honedge began pulling left and right on its own, guiding the tip of the sword for me. Without even realising, I started backing away, heart in my throat.
And then I bumped into something. I whipped around, Steel-Type slicing through the air with a whistle, only to hit a pale stick with a metallic clang! Agatha's eyes burned down at me with an unholy inner light as light purple Distortion covered her cane and protected it against Honedge's edge.
Feeble old lady, my ass.
"Well? Are you going to lie?"
Fuck her, and fuck her parlor tricks, too.
"Fuck you! I ain't lying about shit! Yeah, I've been to that weird-ass place! What's it to you, hag!?"
Her face changed, and for a moment, I thought I'd pushed too far. Instead, she reared back and let out the first non-threatening laugh I'd heard from her.
"HA! Ah, you're all piss and vinegar, ain't you? I like that. Here." In a flash, she'd reached up and grabbed my hurt nose between her fingers. I didn't have time to respond before she wrenched her hand to the side, a sharp crack! ringing out as the broken bone was realigned.
"OW! Fucking leave me alone, you bitch!"
All I got in return was more laughter as she suddenly bent her knees and moved to sit down, despite there being nothing beneath her. Whatever horde of Ghost-Types she kept in her shadow solved that, surging up and making a chair for her to sit on. When she waved her hand behind me, I saw that another, much uglier stool had been made for me as well. It didn't even have a backrest.
I promptly ignored it.
Or tried to anyway. When I didn't sit, the stool flew upwards, hitting me in the back of the knees to make me crumple onto the seat, and then lowered again.
"What's it to me? Curiosity, mostly. It's so very rare to find a human that survived spending more than a fraction of a second there. It's extremely rough even for me, and I've forgotten more about Distortion than you've ever learned. And yet, based on how deeply you've been marked, you were there for much, much longer than any I've ever met. It's quite fascinating. Beyond that, it's also the explanation for your questions."
"And how's that?" Being completely honest, Agatha had me on edge in a way Walter and Grant never managed, even when the former was threatening to cut my head off.
"As I said, aura, energy, whatever. Every being has it, whether they can control it or not. This power has a… flavor, I suppose, an imprint of that being. The philosophically inclined interpret that as being our soul, if you want to be romantic. Regardless, sometimes something will die, and that energy will… slip through the veil. Maybe the local Distortion is particularly high."
She gestured around them, and almost as if on command, a hundred random Ghost-Types flew through the mist before disappearing again.
"Other times, the being in question is more than a little twisted in the first place, and simply feels more at home there. You've been." Her eyes glazed over, and I could've sworn she shivered. "You know it's no place for us. We're beings of law and order, of carefully maintained processes and logic. That place is the opposite. Random doesn't even begin to describe it, but I hardly have to tell you. Spend enough time there, and the boundaries start fraying. The nice, orderly, logical beings that we are become-"
"-Distorted." I finished for her.
"My word, what a brain on you. Clearly, the scientific community has missed out on quite a gem." I flushed a little at the incredible dryness in her voice, especially when our chairs giggled. "Yes, we become Distorted, as the brainiacs call it. By its very nature, the Distorted World rejects everything from this realm and tries to grind it down to change it to match its own idea of reality. But as I said, there is a flavor, an imprint, left behind in the aura. Not a personality, which is why Ghost-Type is as misleading as it is. What was once the most loyal Pokémon in the world can stand right in front of its previous owner and won't recognise them. But for those strong of will, the very core, the predominant trait, might remain. Maybe it's fear."
Once more, the darkness beneath her undulated, a noxious cloud seeping from it. Needle-esque teeth in a giant grin and huge eyes that rolled around dementedly hovered over the Master before disappearing again. "Maybe, they were a particularly skilled speaker or singer." The whispers returned, but augmented a hundredfold, ominous chants that made my head ache and eased my broken nose at the same time, echoing throughout the Tower, led by a figure in a frayed cloak and a massive hat. "Or, maybe they were a warrior so loyal it was engraved on their soul and who gave their life for their liege."
That time, both our eyes fell on Honegde, the sword Pokémon still doing its best impression of an inanimate object.
"So… technically ghosts, but not really?"
"Now you're getting it." I wasn't getting shit, and my head hurt.
"Of course, it rarely affects us humans without killing us, but it happens. We aren't just one emotion, though. We become erratic, impulsive, prone to following our slightest whims without thought for the consequences, losing our shit at the slightest provocation. And that's without being a bundle of angst and trauma like you."
So my early thoughts were right. Aura was affecting my emotions. And, whether Agatha knew it or not, the Distorted World wasn't just Ghost-Type energy.
Giratina was part Dragon-Type after all.
"... how do I control it?"
"There are several ways," she didn't seem bothered by my problems, but then, if what she was saying affected her as well, then why would she? "You seem to be going the Bruno way, all discipline and control, boring shit like that. The fact that you've made any progress on Fighting-Type energy speaks to how close you were to straight-up becoming a Ghost-Type yourself. You little trip has left you quite malleable How'd you get out, anyway?"
-a roar that made his cells cry in anguish ripped from the god in front of him as IT lurched towards him, hatred shining in ITs gaze and maw opening wide as IT swallowed him in one bite, teeth ripping through him as he let out a scream and-
"A giant dragon thing ate me."
She stared at me, jaw dropping a little, and her eyes growing wide before she caught herself.
"... as I said, fascinating." I did not like the way she looked at me when she said that, so I moved the conversation along, even though I had many more questions.
"Honedge… it used to be my sword, right?" A brief crack of the metallic eyelid flashed a sliver of blue before the Ghost-Type went back to ignoring me.
"It did," Agatha confirmed.
"So, what, you just hit enough ghosts and then a new one gets born?" That sounded surprisingly easy.
"You think you're the first to hit a Ghost-Type with something a couple of times? People have been running around swinging everything a Ghost-Type has ever possessed, trying to make their own. It takes a lot of Distortion, your own internal one helped in your case, but usually environmental. This Tower has been used for it by family after family, Clan after Clan. Many a Banette was born here."
"Including your own Clan?" Spending time with the Pebble and Waterflower Clans had helped my knowledge of Kantonian politics, but I hadn't heard of any major Lavender Clans.
"You think I'm a Clan brat? Ha! No, no. No Clan has ever lasted long in Lavender. All get too big in their britches and think they can control the Tower. Never lasts long. Nah, while I was born here, it wasn't to anyone special. Didn't even own the house I was born in. Or was allowed to stay there in the first place. Plenty of empty houses in Lavender to squat in."
"Huh." That… surprised me. I wasn't sure when it happened, but I kind of started associating strong Trainers with powerful backers.
I really was becoming an elitist.
"Was that a glimmer of respect? Oh, my old, cold heart feels all warm!" She pretended to faint, her Gengar catching her and fanning her with a faux panicked expression before sitting her back up and diving back to her shadow. "I looked into you. Guess you've seen people like my parents over in Orre, before you showed up on that fucking dick, Oak's, doorstep."
"Why do all you dusty fossils hate the Professor so much, anyway? Grant said something about a treaty or something?" Seriously, Grant, Walter, Blaine, and now Agatha. What the fuck had he done that pissed off basically everyone he used to know?
"Suppose little Sammy doesn't flaunt the good old days." The chuckle she let out was bitter, her gaze distant and lost as she stared at a random grave, her cane tapping a beat against the stone floor. Her shadow grew tendrils that wrapped around her in a facsimile of a hug, but she waved them off with a huff. "Enough of that, I'm hardly a child. I've told you plenty, much more than most get, so you'll have to get the details somewhere else. Shouldn't be that hard with the auspicious company you keep, rubbing shoulders with the Clans." She paused again, then eventually restarted slowly.
"The Rebellion, or war, or whatever you wanna call it… it wasn't good. The Clans of Johto and the Sevii Islands struck with no warning and managed to wreak quite a lot of havoc before we could muster a response. We knew they weren't happy with things, but nothing pointed to open conflict."
She sighed and sank into herself. For the first time since I'd met her, despite the wrinkles and white hair, Agatha actually seemed old.
"Those were dark days. Whole towns were wiped from the map in a blaze of dragonfire, children pulled from their homes and given a Pokémon so they could be sent to the front lines. It was the first large-scale conflict since the invention of the PokéBall, you see, even if they weren't as advanced as they are today. We had Acorn Balls, of course, but they were hard to make, and even the Clans rarely had more than a couple of dozen at a time. Average Trainers and their partners had to get around physically. And then, all of a sudden, kids younger than you had half an army in their pockets. It was chaos."
I could imagine, snippets of the Rocket Lab and the S.S. Anne running through my mind. I hadn't considered how much that invention must've changed things – in my head, the PokéBall was a standard of the franchise that had always been there.
"And then, one of those snot-nosed kids on our side started pulling his weight. I was hardly better myself, but at least I was growing hair on my privates, which is more than can be said for Oak." She chuckled at my grimace before the brief moment of levity left her. "But, as everyone and their grandma knows these days, there was something special about Samuel Oak. A talent, a drive, an intellect that couldn't be denied. Soon, he was in charge of his own squad, then company, then battalion. Battle after battle won, piles of corpses left in his wake. It took a couple of years, but few could disagree when he was promoted to general and then Champion. We pushed Johto back further and further, and the victory was all but assured. The men were celebrating, command talking about what we'd do with their leaders. Many were in favor of wipping out the Blackthorns completely, and maybe even Mahogany, to make sure they could never pull shit like that again. And then…"
"He signed a peace treaty," I completed her sentence again, the pieces coming together. All but one. "Why? If the plan was to kill them all, then why?"
"For that, you'll have to ask him. I've poured my heart out to a stranger enough for one day." Agatha shrugged. "But that's the gist. As you can guess, a lot of us weren't happy about that. So the fucker abandoned his rank and fled to the ass-end of Kanto to play in his Lab. The pussy."
"... I see."
"No, you don't." The old woman groaned as she stood up, her back popping like gunshots. I stood with her, our seats of solidified Distortion fading back to her shadow. "And I don't feel like making you. You've gotten enough secrets. Finish up here, grab your friends, and fuck off." With those parting words, she spun around and began limping away into the mist.
"HEY!" I yelled, trying to follow her, yet it felt like I was on a treadmill, none of my steps moving me forward. "You're supposed to lead me out of here! And what business!?"
"Lead you out?" The words drifted back even as she became a silhouette that rapidly grew smaller and smaller. "Blind brat! The stairs are right there!" I could vaguely make out a gesture to the right, and following the direction, I did indeed suddenly see a wall with a downwards staircase.
The movement also allowed me to see something else out of the corner of my eye, something down at ground level.
A rock. Specifically, an almost rectangular stone that had been rounded at the top, identical to thousands I'd passed on the way up the Pokémon Tower.
"... thank you." I was almost whispering, but even then, I didn't doubt she heard me.
Looking around, I couldn't find anything to etch into the stone with. At least, nothing I didn't already have.
"Do you mind?" Based on the complete lack of reaction, I assumed Honedge was indeed okay with being used as a writing utensil. It was going to take some time to get used to the total lack of both facial and verbal expressions.
Kneeling, I tried to take my time, but I wasn't a writer, and using a full-length sword wasn't ideal either. Despite that, and the frustration of it not being perfect, I didn't mind as much as I thought.
It was the thought – or in this case, the symbolism – that counted.
Standing back up, I sighed deeply while looking down at the words I'd carved.
Here lies the Vulpix, Ra
A brave, strong, and loyal friend
He deserved better
And no matter how many years pass
He will never be forgotten
The letters were crooked, the lines drifting across the stone. The words were inadequate, and I had nothing to bury.
And yet, it felt good.
"I don't care if I have to tear this tower down stone by stone, I'm finding my way back up here," I swore to the grave, whipping the slight dampness from my eyes as I looked around. Honedge tightened around my arm as I stood there for a time, before finally sighing and patting the headstone as I turned to the stairs.
"I'll be back. I promise."
The stairs continued for much longer than any of the others, the enclosed staircase lit by torches to prevent falls. As I descended, I felt the Distortion in the air fade rapidly, and by the time I stepped out into the very lightly misted room, with the walls and ceiling visible, I knew with certainty that I was back on the first floor.
And standing there waiting for me was a kimono-clad female with a black veil concealing her face. She was already bowing by the time I saw her, holding out both her hands to support my belt with six PokéBalls on it.
"Honored-"
Snatching the belt, I ignored her and immediately headed towards the exit while putting it back on.
I'd had enough of the Pokémon Tower for one day.
Or so I thought, until I saw Gary kneeling by a tombstone. Sighing, I came to a stop a respectable distance away, shuffling around until he heard me. The brown-haired boy rubbed furiously at his eyes while coughing, his team gathered around him – looking tired and beaten, but still standing – before he quickly recalled them. Walking close once he'd had a chance to recover, I pursed my lips at the nice and even writing on the stone.
In honor of Raticate
I am sorry
Damn Gary.
Silence lingered for a moment before he spoke up with a scratchy voice.
"When does it get better?" I didn't need to be the genius Agatha had mockingly called me to understand what he was talking about.
"Honestly?" He nodded, not even bothering to insult me for the silly question. "Like any intense emotion, it dulls somewhat with time." I looked at him, filled with wrath, grief, and fury, and just felt hollow. "After a while, you realise you've gotten used to it. And that really fucking sucks."
We were silent for a minute, staring down at Raticate's grave.
Gary broke first.
"That sounds shitty."
I chuckled without humor. "Yeah, it is. On the other hand, we-"
I stopped, blinking down at the marker next to Raticate's.
Here lies the Vulpix, Ra
A brave, strong, and-
What the fuck?
"Man, fuck this tower," I complained, spinning around and heading for the exit, Gary right on my heels as he laughed.
"Seriously, we should tear this shit down and build a Pokémart instead."
Arriving at the tunnel leading back out, I completely ignored the girl, who may or may not be Mito, who bowed as we passed, instead hurrying through the corridor.
We both sighed with relief as we emerged into the dim light of Lavender, the cloudy sky seeming almost comforting after the bullshit of the Pokémon Tower. Though I could've sworn the sun still hadn't moved.
On second thought, screw the whole town. I was so done with its garbage.
On cue, my PokéDex beeped, making me fish it out with a sigh.
"That Bill?" Gary asked.
"Yeah, still him."
"Tell him to come to Lavender and give us a Teleport. Fuck walking to Celadon."
I raised an eyebrow at him, confused. "Thought you hated the guy."
"Dislike, first of all. Second, we got bigger things to worry about." His eyes were hard as he looked out over the horizon. "That was a shit show. If we're going to take down that Rocket base you talked about, we need to do better, and it would be stupid to ignore a resource like that. In fact, while you're at it, tell him to bring some premium-grade Fire Stones. We need more power for this."
I thought about it for a second before shrugging. I'd partly refrained because the Oaks had a problem with the man, but I wasn't going to ask twice.
Time to wring a billionaire dry.
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So much exposition, but I had fun.
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.