Chapter 21:Power
It was early in the morning, before dawn had broken and the sun was still hiding itself behind dark grey clouds, when a shadow opened the door to Ash Ketchum's bedroom and crept inside. With the stealth skills of a gastly, the mysterious figure padded softly across the carpeted floor, coming to a stop as it loomed above the snoring boy.
The figure saw that the young man slept alone, seeing as Pikachu had made the rare decision to sleep in the forest for the night, instead of on his trainer's chest.
The figure raised it's hand and foregoing all previous subtlety, delivered a few light slaps to the boy's face. "Ash, wake up!" The figure - revealed to be none other than Cynthia Shirona - commanded sharply, increasing the force with each blow.
"Huh? Cynthia? What's going on?" Ash spluttered, being forcefully ejected from a dream he instantly forgot.
"Get up, get dressed, and follow me outside." Cynthia calmly ordered and then left like a silent shadow, leaving a thoroughly confused Ash in his bed.
"...The hell?" He muttered under his breath. She wasn't acting like her usual self for some reason, that was weird.
As he got dressed, his mind went over the tone of voice Cynthia had used and he groaned quietly. That woman wasn't Cynthia, not really.
Cynthia was his mentor, his friend, a young woman who's magnetic personality made people want to flock to her.
The person who woke him up wasn't Cynthia. That woman was Champion Shirona, his mistress. And that meant that today was going to be full of serious pain.
Mentally fortifying himself, he descended the stairs of Cynthia's apartment and entered the elevator, taking it to the bottom floor and walking out through the foyer of the Champion's Tower.
Blinking at the thick morning fog, Ash instantly regretted not wearing the warm coat Cynthia had bought him for his birthday. Seeing no signs of the blonde woman, he heaved a sigh and walked into the surrounding woods.
While wandering around, Ash felt a foreboding feeling come over him. The forest was empty, not a sound reached his ears except for his own breathing and his footsteps against the moist grass.
Something was up. The forest was never this quiet. There was always the sounds of his pokemon, Cynthia's pokemon and the wild pokemon of Shouri Island fighting, training and playing. Now it was like the entire island had died and he was intruding on it's verdant mausoleum.
As he raised a gloved hand to wipe the remaining sleep from his eyes, he swore a shadow appeared in the corner of his eye for a split second. Ignoring it as a trick of his half-asleep mind, he soldiered on through the mist...
...Until he was sent to the ground by a vicious blow to the back of his head.
Ash grunted in pain and tried to struggle to his feet, the throbbing pain blinding him. With his clenched eyes, he didn't see the foot that kicked him in the stomach or the other foot that stomped on his back or the fist that lashed out at his jaw.
Consumed by his agony, Ash leapt up in an instant, adrenalin forcing him to ignore the pain and run away from the threat he couldn't see through his watering eyes.
He turned to run - instinct urging him to escape - but whatever was attacking him drove it's foot into the back of his shin, forcing him to one knee with a pained yelp. Then it picked him up with hardly any effort and through him up against a nearby tree.
A fist met his nose, the back of his head smacked against the tree trunk. He was punched in the ribs, the air was driven from his lungs, a strangled scream failed to escape his throat.
A knee met his stomach, he doubled over, allowing another knee to strike his chin. His nose, and possibly the back of his head were bleeding. He collapsed to the forest floor and curled into a ball, fearfully praying that he wouldn't die.
Then, the assault ended. But his attacker didn't move - it's menacing aura hovering over him. "Is that it?" A contemptuous voice asked rhetorically.
"M-mistress?" Ash weakly uttered, feeling the full brunt of the harm Cynthia had inflicted on him. He looked at her through his swiftly blackening eyes.
She looked down on him, figuratively and literally, with a look almost akin to hatred. "You're pathetic!" She spat furiously. "Get up, you piece of filth!" She delivered another kick to his bruising stomach.
"I said get up!" She roared, venom dripping off her words like his blood down her knuckles.
He slowly and awkwardly tried to rise to his feet while clutching his injured ribs. Cynthia then delivered another skull-shattering shot to his jaw. Ash moaned pitifully, the blossoming pain mingling with his already aching face. "I said get up! Are you stupid?"
Ash somehow stood again, struggling for breath. Why? Why was she doing this? They had fought before, but not like this. She had never attacked him with such bone-shattering ferocity and rage before.
"Hit me." Cynt- No, his Mistress demanded. Obeying her hard tone, he took a blind swing and his Mistress replied with a roundhouse kick to his side. "Too slow."
Ash grimaced and tried to land another punch, glancing off her right arm. His Mistress grabbed his fist and punched him in his already gushing nose. "Too weak." She added injury to insult by driving her heel into his foot.
Ash raised his arms to block, seeing no other option, but she gave him a cruel backhand to his face, sending him crashing to the ground again. She used her foot to roll him onto his back.
Then she mounted his chest, trapping his arms and allowing her to attack his face over and over, taunting him with every slap or punch. "Too slow! Too weak! Not fast enough! Not strong enough! Not good enough! How do it feel?"
Ash tried to shout, but a punch to his throat robbed him of his breath once more.
"How can scum like you even hope to face me? You're pathetic! You're worthless! Less than nothing! Do you understand!? Are you afraid of me?!"
"Yeshh!" Ash somehow cried out, despite the blood in his mouth. "Yeshh, pleash, jus' stop!" He knew he sounded pathetic, but he didn't care. He just needed the pain to end.
"Good." Cynthia stood up, placing her foot on his chest. "Every time you fail your pokemon because you were too slow to react to an opponent, because you were too weak to train them properly, because you were too stupid to think of a battle plan - remember this pain and these emotions.
Because this is how your pokemon feel when they lose. Everytime YOU WEREN'T GOOD ENOUGH!" She screamed in his destroyed face.
She stood again and walked off without a backward glance, leaving him in a crumpled heap of bruised and bleeding flesh. "Get back to the Tower and clean yourself up. You look like hell."
WTLM
Twenty minutes later.
When Ash managed to limp back into the lobby of the Tower, he ran into Bertha, who was just exiting the elevator.
"Ah, Ash! How are you this fine misty morning?" The old woman greeted him cheerfully. "Would you care to accompany an old lady on her morning walk?"
As Bertha got closer, her jovial disposition faded when she saw Ash's state. "Ash! What's happened?!" She asked in clear shock at his heavily bleeding face and battered body. "Never mind! Come with me, I'll take care of you!"
Bertha supported him as he walked, which was embarrassing. But he wasn't going to complain at all. She brought him to her apartment and seated him in her living room. "Lay down, but whatever you do - don't fall asleep! I'll be back in a minute with a first-aid kit."
The damage wasn't too bad compared to most wild pokemon attacks, she observed with relief. There was a large, shallow cut on the back of his head. Fortunately it wouldn't require stitches. His split lip had stopped bleeding and his nose wasn't broken - he just needed a tissue to stem the blood.
His body got the worst of it. Fresh red marks littered his torso that she knew would fade into a collection of mottled brown, black and blue bruises.
Thank goodness he wouldn't need to go to the hospital. His body would just need time to heal properly. However, she couldn't say how long that might take.
Bertha knew that the wild pokemon of the island were quite dangerous to anyone under the level of an Elite, but for a Fighting-type pokemon to actually assault a human - something had to be done.
Ash was incredibly lucky to escape. If the pokemon was willing to attack him so brutally it could have easily killed him if he hadn't ran.
And if he had died... It would go without saying that Cynthia would be devastated if something so tragic had happened to Ash.
That poor girl had lost too much already.
Putting away the first-aid kit, Bertha told Ash to put his tee-shirt back on. "Ash, what pokemon did this to you? Why were you out in the forest without your pokemon?"
"It was Cynthia, we were training." Ash told her, rubbing his sensitive jaw. "Ouch!"
"Don't touch it if it hurts, dear." Bertha gave a long-suffering sigh. Whether seven or seventeen, children just couldn't help but pick at scabs. "Cynthia did this? Whatever for? Were you caught sniffing her underwear?" Despite how casual she was acting, on the inside, Bertha was fuming.
What had driven Cynthia to this? This wasn't training, this was common assault! And poor Ash was acting as if it was nothing!
Ash gave a pained laugh. "You think I'd be alive if I was? Ah, my ribs!"
Bertha frowned, wondering why Cynthia would have done something like this to the boy. She was acting like she was twelve years old again.
Checking her mental calender, Bertha found her answer and sighed. That foolish, foolish girl.
"Ash, I want you to stay here for a while. I'd like to speak to Cynthia concerning her behaviour."
Ash attempted to stand. "Why can't I go back to t-"
Bertha looked him sternly in the eye. "Privately."
"Yes, ma'am. I'll be good." Ash whispered, freezing in his seat.
"Good boy. There's sugar cookies in the oven, dear." With that, Bertha left to find the stupid little bitch and give her a piece of her mind.
WTLM
Bertha found Cynthia just where she had suspected, on the roof garden, high above the sunken clouds. She gave a small smirk.
For all of Cynthia's claims that she was a regular person, she did have a habit of seeking out places that put her over everyone else. Perhaps it was subconscious, or maybe she wasn't as humble as she believed herself to be.
Personally, Bertha thought that it was because Cynthia enjoyed the idea of falling.
She seemed to be in deep thought, judging by the small frown on the normally smiling young woman's face. "Cynthia!" Bertha called out to her.
The younger woman gave a start and looked up from the roses that Bertha had painstakingly raised like her own children. "Oh! Bertha,! Hey..."
"Hey yourself. What are you thinking about? Shouldn't you be training your cute little apprentice?"
Cynthia flinched noticeably.
She felt guilty.
Good. "He... Uh, he isn't feeling great, so I thought I'd let him lie in."
Eyes averted, picking at her nails with one hand... "You know I can't stand liars, Cynthia. But I'm not surprised he needs to rest, what with how badly you beat the snot out of him." Bertha commented airily.
Cynthia looked back at the ground. "You saw?"
"I had to look closely though, if it helps. All the blood blended in, it was extremely difficult to notice! Or didn't you see yourself? No, of course you didn't, Cynthia Shirona never looks back at her mistakes. She always runs away, doesn't she?"
Cynthia swallowed thickly, the guilt welling up in her throat. She didn't need to be reminded.
"Imagine how quickly you could have repaired your relationship with Emily if you had jus-"
Cynthia's eyes snapped back up to Bertha, narrowed in anger. "Don't! Don't bring up my sister! That was all my fault, I know that! I made up for that!" She snarled uncharacteristically.
"After how many years?" Bertha asked, her conversational tone becoming much colder.
"I... Ash... I didn't mean- He..." Cynthia fumbled for her words as she tried to talk around the lump in her throat.
"Are you trying to excuse your deplorable behaviour?" The grey-haired woman asked sharply. Her advanced age made her no less dangerous and Cynthia knew that well.
But Cynthia Shirona, well, she was a stubborn one. "I was trying to teach him, like you taught me when we-"
Within the blink of an eye, Bertha had crossed the rooftop and slapped Cynthia in the face, the sound echoing despite the open roof. "Don't you ever accuse me of teaching you to beat the shit out of someone who looks up to you!" Bertha spat as Cynthia reeled back, clutching her left cheek.
"I remember that day like it was yesterday. You were a vicious little psychopath who didn't care for anyone but herself, not even her pokemon! As far as I'm concerned, you needed a good ass-kicking! And you have the gall to compare what I showed you to the violent act of a sexually-frustrated, emotionally-retarded, little girl like you?!" Bertha ranted, with a look of utter disgust.
"No, ma'am." Cynthia whispered quickly like a scolded child at her mother-figure's vitriolic rage . "Is... Will Ash be okay?"
"Yes. I was worried he might need to go to a hospital, but I fixed him up as best I could. Then again, I'm no medical doctor." Bertha hated herself for relishing the single tear that welled up in Cynthia's visible eye when she mentioned Ash's condition.
"Should I... apologise or something?" Cynthia asked hesitantly. She wansnt used to accepting her own mistakes, but this definitely counted as one. A big one.
"Or something. We both know that will never happen. We also know that Ash will never accept that you can make a mistake. He kind of worships you, you know."
Cynthia turned away from Bertha and walked over to the railing surrounding the Tower's edge. "Yeah, he kind of does..." Cynthia gripped the railing tightly. "Agh! I fucked up! I need to find him! I need to- to... Do something!" She fled down the stairs, eager to right her wrong.
"He's in my apartment, by the way!" Bertha called after her then down at the flowerbeds. "Fuck, my petunias!" She frowned at the trampled flowers. "Honestly, some people!"
WTLM
Cynthia found him still lying on Bertha's couch. She knocked on the living room door so she didn't spook him and announced herself. "Ash, it's me, Cynthia. Can we talk?"
Ash turned around to face her and she felt another little piece of herself be devoured by her own self-loathing. His face was a mess of dried blood and soon-to-be bruises and his eye was swollen. But worst of all, he was smiling at her, as if she didn't nothing wrong. As if she wasn't a horrible, horrible person.
"Hey, I was wondering when you'd show up. Bertha didn't go to hard on you, did she?" It was at that moment that Cynthia realised that no matter what happened she would never rid herself of the feeling she got whenever Ash smiled - the feeling that always made her forget how breathing worked and stopped her heart for a few seconds.
"No, you know she's as mean as a magikarp." Cynthia said, thankful that the bright red hand-print Bertha had given was hidden under her hair. "Ash... I've never been good with... Stuff..." Wonder start, Shirona, the annoying voice in her head mocked. "So, I'm going to tell you a story."
"Okay?" Ash agreed quizzically. With was this about now? Cynthia sure was acting weird today.
Cynthia sighed and sat down next to Ash. "I mentioned awhile back, when I met you at the docks, that I spent a year in the Unova region. But I had a lot of anger in me back then, for reasons I'd prefer not to go into. I saw a therapist for a few years, but I'm not sure how well that worked.
Looking back... I hated myself, but I didn't know how to change myself, or how to become a better person. I only cared about power. I guess the closest person you could compare me to is that Paul guy."
"Paul?!" Ash exclaimed. "You're nothing like him! He didn't care about his pokemon, he practically tortured them with his training!" There was no way that Cynthia was anything like Paul. To Ash, the very thought just boggled his mind.
"So did I. I only cared about winning, no matter what it cost my pokemon. I pushed them beyond their limits everyday, but they never complained. They kept supporting me no matter what... But did I ever thank them?" Cynthia scoffed, cursing the ignorance of her childhood. "No, I just pushed them harder."
"I was in Undella Town - I have a house near there - high off a winning streak. I was beating trainers left, right and centre. Back then, I didn't even know the most important rule of pokemon battling." She sneered at herself.
"When a trainer wins, it's because of the pokemon. When a pokemon loses, it's because of the trainer." Ash supplied, reciting the golden rule of pokemon trainers.
"Exactly." Cynthia nodded. "Anyway, it was there that I met Bertha, after years. She was my therapist, see?"
"That's right. She works with kids, doesn't she?" Ash asked, knowing that Bertha had mentioned something of the sort but not much. Doctor-patient privilege and all that.
"Yeah. I really looked up to her. She helped me through a lot of issues. So I made her promise me that she would battle me when I became a trainer, but I didn't expect to meet her so soon."
"What happened?"
"She told me that she was disgusted with me. She told me that I was a disgrace to the title of Trainer and that if I had an ounce of decency I would release my pokemon into the wild and go back to Celestic Town." She said, her voice quivering slightly as she retold the tale.
"That's pretty harsh to tell a child." Ash rested a comforting hand on her arm.
Cynthia smiled at the gesture. "Yes, but she was right. I was a terrible trainer and a worse person. Of course, I didn't see it that way. She was old and I was young, so clearly I was right. It hurt to hear that from her, from somebody who I thought cared about me. So I challenged her to a battle."
"And did you win?"
Cynthia shook her head with a bitter-sweet smile. "She destroyed my entire team with only her hippowdon. My entire team," Cynthia snapped her fingers. "Like that. She was brutal, like she was breaking toys. It was the first time we were ever so outclassed. I begged her to let me forfeit, to stop hurting them. She just looked at me and said, "You need to learn.""
"Woah! Bertha?" That sounded nothing like the kindly old woman he had come to know during his apprenticeship. Was this even the same Bertha?
"Bertha." Cynthia confirmed. "I wanted to give in, but my pokemon wouldn't let me. They let themselves get hurt because I taught them that a pokemon that couldn't win was worthless! They suffered because of me! Even Gible evolving in the middle of the fight wasn't enough, we still lost.
Bertha just walked away. That night, in the pokemon centre, I got on my hands and knees and I begged them for forgiveness for being such a horrible trainer and told them that if they wanted to leave, I wouldn't bear a grudge. Riolu just walked over, gave me a hug and gave me this look, like, "Forgive what?"
I broke into tears and I swore to them that I would change. And after that day, I did. My pokemon weren't tools or weapons for my use or personal glory. They were my partners, and more importantly, my friends. The day after, I found Bertha again and thanked her.
She just said, "Maybe there's hope for you yet." To this day, Bertha is still the only person who's ever beaten my pokemon in battle." Cynthia concluded her tale. She then turned her body to face Ash and grabbed his hands in her own.
Ash stared down at their hands, using the brim of his hat to cover his face. "Today's the anniversary of that day. I just got so frustrated because it always makes me think of the person I used to be, the person I'm worried I still might be. And judging by what I did to you, I have a good reason to worry."
Cynthia's grip tightened, as did her frown. "I can never justify what I did to you. I did it out of frustration and anger at myself and you were just a convenient target. I hurt you and you have no reason to forgive me. I don't apologise often, this is the third time I've ever said sorry. But here goes..."
She lifted the brim of his hat, forcing his eyes to meet her own. "Ash... I am so, so sorry." She whispered.
To Ash, the grief, self-hatred and plaintiveness in that one word was obvious.
So he reacted the only way he could have in that situation. Freeing his hands from Cynthia's, he wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her tightly to his own body.
"Ash!" Cynthia gasped in surprise. Ash wasn't never like this... He was being so forward!
"I forgive you." He said with a cheesy smile that Cynthia couldn't see, but she could feel it radiating from him.
"How?" Cynthia asked sadly, shaking her head. "How can you even..." Cynthia tried to start, but gave up and laughed slightly. "Do you have any idea who frustrating you are, Ash Ketchum?"
"People have tried to explain, but I never listen!" Ash paused. Then he spoke again, using a very serious - and dare she say it - manly and mature tone. "Everyone loses control some times. And that's good, in it's way. Because if everything just keeps building up inside, you'll explode. So the next time you feel that you'll explode... I'll be here for you and that's a promise." He said, sticking his facing into her hair.
"You say that now, but I'm a pretty fucked up person, Ash." Cynthia tried to warn him, for his sake, but Ash would have none of it. "I'll hurt you again. I hurt everyone."
"I don't care! You should always have somebody who'll always be there for you! Someone who won't walk away just because of the circumstances! Cynthia... I want... I want to be that person for you!" He passionately declared.
"Ash..." Cynthia could almost feel tears coming on. "Thank you. Thank you so much." Cynthia unconsciously nuzzled into Ash's neck, causing him to stiffen slightly. After a minute, Cynthia regained control of herself and loosened her arms. "A-Ash? You can let go now." She stuttered.
"One more minute? Who knows when I'll get lucky enough to hug the great Cynthia Shirona again!" Ash exclaimed like a starstruck fan-boy.
"You're such a dork, Ketchum! B-but I guess I can spare another minute of my valuable time, if... If you really want to..."
"Yeah, I really do."
"Well, what a coincidence. I do, too."
Neither were sure just how long they were like that. Minutes? Years? Everything else seemed to fade away until it was just them, so it was hard to tell.
That was until Bertha arrived anyway. Then they became incredibly aware of what was happening. Especially when she took out the camera.
Bertha cackled loudly to herself as she left her apartment, leaving the two fed-faced youngsters behind. When her laughter died down, she smiled to herself. "I was right, maybe there is hope for you."
Young love was truly a delight to behold, the grey-haired woman thought to herself. Now she just needed to develop those pictures for her scrap-book.