Chapter 23:Four
I take it back. This is the weakest chapter. I don't own Pokemon.
"You know," Flint whispered to Bertha as he shoved yet another handful of popcorn into his mouth. "I never thought that I'd be happy that 'Nights Of Our Restless Lives' was put on hiatus."
"Yes," Bertha hummed in agreement. "I suppose that it just doesn't compare to real life, does it?"
They were sitting in the lobby of the Champion's Tower, in a couple of armchairs in the corner furthest away from the elevator doors, subtly observing the mistress and apprentice conversing in their own little world.
The scene in front of them, to the untrained eye, seemed perfectly friendly. Cynthia's hand was on Ash's shoulder as she congratulated on his improvement in his training while Ash was bashfully averting his eyes under her praise.
To their eyes, of course, Cynthia's arm was lingering a little too long and started to gently rub his shoulder, and Ash's eyes weren't looking away, but rather towards Cynthia's cleavage, which the girl was unconsciously emphasising with her slightly exaggerated breathing.
Not so quite platonic, huh?
"Hey, Cynthia," Flint mimicked Ash's voice skillfully. "You don't mind if shamelessly ogle your cleavage like a thirteen-year-old just discovering boobs, do you?"
"Of course not, Ash," Bertha replied, not quite so skillfully. "As long as I get to feel you up, Mr. Muscley Arms."
"Sure, then I'll go ask Pikachu for romantic advice and ignore the "do me" vibes you're throwing my way."
"Okay, if you need me, I'll be masturbating in my bedroom with one of your "lost" tee-shirts, while pretending nobody can hear me."
Taking a break from their dubbing of the scene, they glanced at the door as Aaron, the youngest member of the Elite Four, entered the Tower, saw Ash and Cynthia, then Flint and Bertha. He walked over to their chairs stealthily and sat down in a spare armchair. "What did I miss? Have she gotten into the awkward, semi-sexual remarks yet?" He asked, stretching his legs out.
"Not yet, she's just molesting him for now." Bertha answered, as Cynthia's arms was now gripping Ash's left bicep and she was laughing at a joke that definitely wasn't as funny as she made it out to be.
"Oh, wait! She's starting!" Flint excitedly whispered, pointing to the duo.
Quieting down, the eavesdropping three had to strain their ears slightly to make out what was being said.
"Yeah!" Cynthia said, raising both arms into the air. "I've gotten really flexible since I took up yoga a while back. Really flexible. I bet I could put both legs behind my head if I wanted to." She tried to remark casually, flicking her hair. "You should try joining in, I can think of lots of positions for us to try."
As both of their faces lit up at the implications of her words, Cynthia tried to salvage them, removing her hand from Ash. "You know, yoga positions! Not other positions! Obviously, I meant yoga positions, because what other kinds of positions could I mean?" She made a show of wiping the sweat from her forehead with her towel. "Wow, isn't it hot today? No wonder I'm a little mixed up, huh?"
"Yeah, yoga, right! That's what I knew you were talking about! I mean, what else?" Ash laughed awkwardly, fishing his eyes from Cynthia's sport-bra bound bust.
Aaron snorted into his hand, blocking off any laughter that attempted to escape. "Can she be any more pathetic?" Cynthia Shirona, the Unbreakable, who stood sturdier than a mountain under near-impossible odds and won without a sweat...
Cynthia Shirona, the Slayer of Heroes, who hunted down powerful trainers of renown and left them as pitiful, broken messes...
Cynthia Shirona, the Bitch in Black, the infamous urban legend who sent a shiver down the spine of rookies and veteran trainers alike...
...And she was making goo-goo eyes at a guy she desperately liked.
Funnily enough, this side of Cynthia was the side that Aaron was scared of.
Was this perfectly normal, love-struck young woman really the same violent, near-emotionless teenager who beat him half to death after finding out he released his first pokemon when his wrongfully believed it to be too weak?
How utterly terrifying.
"And can he be any more frustratingly dense? At this rate, she'll rape him!" Flint chuckled. Although he was jesting, he couldn't help but feel that it was a serious possibility if things continued in this fashion...
Cynthia always got something if she decided she wanted it, the determined little thing she was. Maybe he should stop praying for Ash's safety and more his survival?
"The only way that she could be more desperate was if she tattooed 'Come and get it' on her ass and bent over in front of him." Bertha commented, shaking her head at the folly of youth.
"It didn't work with the shorts, not sure if it would work with a tattoo."
"Oh, the shorts! Remember the shorts? Seriously, I almost thought he was into guys after that whole thing!"
"Has anyone seen Lucian today?" Bertha asked, usually the Psychic-type Elite would be here with them, mocking the painfully funny duo.
Painful in the sense that it made her heart ache to know that the either Ash or Cynthia would jump into the other's arms if Cynthia could get over her belief that everyone she loved would eventually abandon or be abandoned by her, or if Ash could realise that if a young lady allows to view her bosoms and rear-end (on multiple occasions) and doesn't kick the tar out of you, it means she's into you.
"I'm right here, I've been sitting here for the past half-hour." An slightly annoyed voice spoke up beside them.
Aaron gave a start, nearly jumping from his chair. "For the love of-! Don't sneak up on people, Lucian! You're like a haunter!" He berated the glasses-wearing man, placing a hand over his swiftly-beating chest.
"I hate you so, so much, Aaron." Lucian replied evenly. "Can you please keep it down, I'm on the phone?"
"Sure. Sorry, bud." Flint apologised, relaxing further into his chair, offering his popcorn to Aaron.
Lucian spoke lowly into his phone, muttering harshly. "Listen to me, Nathaniel. I know some JTs have been hot-stepping on our turf. You tell Jimmy and his crew that if he wants to rock n' roll in Canalave, he's going to need to find a new dance-floor. Because Lucian and the Good Time Boogie Bunch are the only ones allowed to get down in my city! And if he continues to disrespect me, he and I are going to have to have words. Stern ones. Spread the word, Nathaniel, it ends now."
Lucian paused, allowing the person on the other end to respond. He nodded and spoke. "Yeah, that's fine. You have to keep up your side-hustle at the florist, no problem. So, it ends tomorrow then."
Another pause.
"Oh, yeah... Your sister's thing... Hey, she ever talk about me?"
Yet another pause.
"Really? She said that? Okay, after her thing, we'll meet up. But remember, it ends something in the coming week. See you later." Lucian hung up. "Sorry, guys. That was Nathaniel, he's my lieutenant. You know, for my underground fighting club/jazzercise group."
"Yeah, your stamp collecting club sounds super interesting, Lucian." Aaron replied dully, fiddling with the bit of his verdant hair at the front of his head that he could never make stay down. "Oh, my bad, it doesn't."
"So, so, so much, Aaron." Lucian whispered, levelling an ignored glare at the youngest of the Four.
"Aaron, leave Lucian's photography club alone." Bertha chided. "Cynthia's about to break out the archaeology anecdotes."
"Yeah, shut up! This is the highlight of my day!"
"So, they're arguing for about fifteen minutes, then Professor Lyndon says, with his wife right behind him, "I think I know a Cebulias Dynasty-era mummy, I've been married to one for the last thirty years!" And then Professor Gresham says, "And with such simple preservation techniques, they still both look five-thousand years younger than you!" And we're just standing there, trying not to laugh! I'm not even making this up, I swear on Howard Carter's grave!"
"Isn't it adorable that she thinks she's funny?" Bertha said, choking back a laugh.
Flint sniffed, placing his hands behind his head. "I'm just glad she grew past the knock-knock joke phase. I was kinda planning on killing her." He admitted freely, knowing that his homicidal feelings were more than understandable.
If you had to suffer through a thousand and one of Cynthia's "jokes", so would you. Seriously.
"You, me, and everyone at the party. You could see Wattson's tearing himself apart, trying to decide between laughing from habit and trying to resist so he didn't encourage her. I've never seen the man drink that much since that night." Lucian commented, remembering the shambling mess Wattson had become due to his internal struggle.
"Maybe it's the romantic in me," Aaron began, giving up on messing with his hair. "But I think it's kind of cute, ya know? We know for a fact that Cynthia hasn't really expressed an interest in a guy before." (Note he said guy.)
"And we know Ash is pretty much whipped already. They're good for each other, I think. Cynthia needs someone who can help her stop taking life so seriously, and Ash needs something only a certain type of woman can give him. Granted, those type of women are usually called Mistress Pain, but he already calls her Mistress, so they're halfway there."
"Weirdly, I can imagine Cynthia making him call her that in bed." Lucian added. "The strong trunk and branches of their friendship will soon blossom into the roses of love and romance. I'll be happy to see it when it happens." Honestly, there were only so many times you could watch two people awkwardly glance and blush at one another. The sexual tension could be cut with a Night Slash.
Flint gave Lucian a teasing grin. "What kind of tree grows roses, dumb-ass? I know I didn't go to Metaphorical Agriculture School like most people, but even I know that."
Lucian stood, adjusted his glasses and walked away, throwing up two middle fingers behind his back at Flint and Aaron. Walking past Cynthia and Ash, he made his way to the elevator, he pressed the button repeatedly to call it down. When it came, he stepped inside, rapidly pushing the button for his floor.
Taking note of his barely compressed annoyance, Ash turned to him. "Lucian, is something the matter? What's up?"
Lucian pointed at the two of them. "Screw you, screw Cynthia, and screw Flint and Aaron. Or better yet, you just screw Cy-" His beginning of his angered rant was cut off by the closing of the doors as he was whisked away to his floor.
Ash turned to Cynthia, stunned by Lucian's rage. "What was that?" He asked her, blinking in disbelief.
"I have no clue! Probably just those other three rilling him up. But still, he had no reason to be so rude to you." Cynthia placed her hands back on Ash's shoulders in a comforting gesture. "Wow, your shoulders are really knotted up. I could give you a sports massage or something, if you like." She offered, rubbing his shoulders again, rather fixated on working out the kinks.
"Tha-that sounds great!" Ash replied, wishing that Lucian hadn't just taken it.
"Let's go to my bedroom and get that shirt off! Oh, and just leave it there afterwards, it's my turn to do the laundry..."