Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Rain Dance ❯ Presently ( Chapter 3 )

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“Hey, I’d stay away from Jonas for a little while. He’s really pissed off.”

“What? He’s always pissed about something. What’s it about this time?”

“You know those two kids that were brought in? They look so alike that it’s hard getting a positive ID on them. One of them’s being real perky, but that other kid keeps cuddling that wasted Pokemon.”

There was a bemused laugh. “Are you serious? They really can’t tell them apart?”

“Yeah. Different reports are saying different things. Still, that kid with the Eevee, I feel sorry for him.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“He hasn’t said hardly a word since we picked him up. Whatever that military guy did to him messed him up pretty badly. That Eevee was half dead.”

“Oh, sucks. Those military guys are hardcore. Wouldn’t put my Stunky against one to save my life.”

“Thing is, from what I saw, I think that guy was Hawk from the Eastern Branch. You know, the one from Leena Island?”

“Oh… damn…. sucks… But it’s been a week, they still haven’t found out who did what?”

“Dunno, seems really weird, honestly.”

The voices began to decline, and Batoy sighed miserably as he huddled closely next to the door of his cell. He’d been taken to one of the penal centers in Canalave City, several kilometers west from the coliseum close to Jubilife, and confined in one of the corner rooms. A small window marked the two outside walls, their bars cold and wet from the constant rain. He sighed again, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face behind them. The room was dark, lit only by the grey light filtering from those tiny windows. Reluctantly, he reached down and rubbed the Eevee beside him. “I’m so sorry, Meta…” he whimpered quietly.

Over the past week, Meta’s health had steadily declined, and no signs of recovery showed themselves. Bones broken from the fight with the Tyranitar refused to heal, and a fever claimed her body as well. Each day, she grew hotter, squirming around and whimpering, with each movement sending razors through her tired nerves. Finally, the pain proved just too great, and as Batoy cuddled her close to his chest, Meta fell into a comatose state. Despite his efforts, he could not wake her. His choked cries for help had gone unanswered.

That had been a few days ago, and the tears had dried up on Batoy’s tired face. He shifted around so that he was sitting with his legs to the side, turning away from the Eevee’s motionless body. The room was completely barren with the exception of a single wire frame bed jutting from a corner. The whole place had a foul odour about it. The air was dank and suffocating, though not warm at all. Batoy could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops falling outside. He cringed before looking back down at the unmoving silver-white Pokemon. Much of her fur had shed, leaving a patched mane and hackles, a thin, rough tail and barren ears. Her waist and legs seemed almost completely devoid of fur, and the touch of his fingers against her pale, moist skin brought fresh tears to his eyes.

The boy continued to gently caress the Pokemon, and his fingers made their way up to the Eevee’s neck. Batoy paused and frowned. For a brief second, a desperate smile came to his face. In the recesses of his mind, he could hear the faintest thump-thump, as if her heart still beat a weak, but living cadence. He could feel the smallest raise of her chest, slow like a sleeping creature. “If you can hear me…” Batoy said softly, his eyes seeing but not, “please… please wake up. Don’t leave me alone here…please, just wake up. Let me see your eyes again….”

He felt pathetic, moreso than when he was cowering in front of Hawk, holding Meta as if she’d disappear if he’d let go. He had felt the man’s apathy radiating down on him, and he remembered the anger that surged through him, stopped only by the realization that there was utterly nothing he could do. He had only stayed there, frozen in place and huddled in the rain until he heard the sirens of the police and the footsteps as the man just walked away.

A similar sound appeared, and Batoy looked frightfully towards the door in time to see it slide open, and a pair of men clothed similarly to the officer he’d met earlier walked through. Instinctively, he rose to his feet, his hand hesitant to leave Meta’s body. Batoy immediately looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact. One of the officers had been rough with him earlier, and Batoy did not wish for an encore of that performance. “What… is it this time?” he asked meekly as handcuffs were latched around his wrists.

The first officer, a dark-eyed man with jet-black hair and a look of contempt, only glanced at him, but the other, a slightly lighter eyed and lighter-haired man, gave him the benefit of a single word. “Interrogation.” Then he was led out of his cell. The hallways of this jail were incredibly bright and clean, and Batoy couldn’t help but wonder how such a clean facility could have such miserable cell. The hallways were lit by series of florescent lights. The three walked briskly for several moments, turning down one hall and moving up another. Eventually, they came to stop in front of a door. The door led to a small, moderately lit room with a long table and several chairs. He was led inside.

There Batoy waited, silently resting in one of the padded chairs at the end of the table where he’d been sat down. His fingers drummed softly on the table as he waited. No one else was in the room. “I wonder… what they’re gonna ask me now….” It hadn’t been the first time he’d been interrogated, and the last time, his answers had infuriated those questioning him. His cheek stung slightly at the memory. Batoy could only hope that his responses were more satisfactory this time.

The door across the room slid open, and two men walked through. The first he recognized as the nicer of the two guards, but the other seemed strange. He wore a black suit and tie, both pressed very neatly, his dark brown hair was trimmed and organized, but despite his air of professionalism, Batoy caught sight of something on his face; maybe a smirk or something. The man took his seat two away from Batoy and gave him a pleasant smile, a thin stack of papers in front of him. “So… Batoy Guilderos?” Batoy gave a slow nod. “Let’s see… age 15, hometown… Lavaridge, eh? You’ve quite a ways.” Batoy only looked away. The man continued. “Hmm… you left your birth-date blank. Why is that?”

“…I don’t remember….”

“You don’t remember your birthday? Not even the month? Season? …Year?”

“Well… I think… it’s sometime in… um… October….”

“Alright, peculiar,” the man said, jotting something down quickly. “But not a cause of concern. We don’t need that information. What about now? Where’re you living?”

“Nowhere… just traveling around….”

“Oh? I didn’t realize the traveling trainer routine was still in practice. How many badges do you have?”

“I’m… not really a trainer.”

“What?” the man glanced at Batoy with a curious look. “You’re not a trainer, yet you travel around? What’re you doing with yourself?”

The question seemed innocent, but Batoy just shook his head. “I don’t know… trying to live, I guess.”

“Living by stealing?” Expecting a reaction, the man stared patiently, but Batoy only looked down. “Alright. My name’s Hulett. I’m going to ask you a few questions and you’re going to answer them truthfully and honestly. If you lie, well… I won’t guarantee anything. Understand?”

Batoy gave a slow nod.

The man gave another grin and sat back in his chair. “Now, first question. Approximately a week ago, we received positive IDs marking you at the scene of two different crimes. I need you to tell me what you were doing in Jubilife City.”

“I was just wandering…” Batoy stammered, refusing to make eye contact. “I…” His stomach rumbled violently. “I… I’m hungry….”

“Hungry?” Batoy nodded slowly. “Would you like something to eat?”

The offer was incredibly inviting, and though Batoy knew he should’ve refused, his stomach overrode his judgment. “Y-yes, sir… I haven’t had anything but scraps for the last few weeks….”

Hulett made a page, and a few moments later, a steaming bowl of torchic soup was brought to Batoy. The boy quickly tore into the meal, shoveling the broth into his mouth and not bothering to hide his immense satisfaction. Hulett watched him and made notes before finally speaking. “You’ve been very helpful to us, Batoy. You’ll be returned to your cell now. But before you go, I have one final question.”

Batoy was only partially paying attention. The soup was the most delicious thing he’d had in ages. “Uh… huh?”

“Do you know about the Global Trade Center?”

“Yeah, I guess….”

“If someone stole millions of Pokemon, would you be upset?”

Batoy finally stopped eating and looked at Hulett with a confused look. “Yeah, I guess so, but… isn’t that impossible? You can’t steal that many Pokemon….”

Hulett shook his head. “It’s not a big deal. Just a hypothetical question. You may go now.”

Batoy bit his lip and looked away again. “B-but wait! I wanna know where my Pokemon are.”

Hulett crossed his arms, but a grin was still about his face. “Oh, they’re fine. I assure you no harm has come to them. They’ll simply be stored until something happens.”

“Something?” Hulett gave a shrug. “And… then… what will happen to them?”

“Nothing, really. Pokemon are usually loyal to their masters, but they aren’t bad creatures. They won’t be punished for your actions.”

“But, I…”

The man glanced at his watch. “Well, I’m afraid our time for today is done. Perhaps I’ll see you some other time. Wonderful talk with you, Batoy.” As Hulett stacked his papers and rose, Batoy only gave a grunt, his mind elsewhere. Something? What something was supposed to happen? It wasn’t until he’d been escorted back to his cell that he snapped back into reality. He found himself on the bed, staring absently as the ceiling.

All sense of time had left him. As Batoy looked out through the outside bars of his cell, the sky looked at dark and turbulent as ever. What time was it? Morning? Evening? How many hours had passed? He didn’t know anymore. “Why’s it have to be like this…” he mumbled to himself. “Why am I even here? What did I do? I don’t understand at all….” He looked away from the bars and stared at the ceiling. He’d only been doing what he’d been told, hadn’t he? Did he make a mistake? What had happened? The wind howled, blowing droplets in to occasionally splash against his cheek, which he brushed away with a groan. It was cold, very cold. The urge to hold Jet in his arms brought new tears to his eyes.

Hours passed, and Batoy resigned himself to an uneasy sleep on the small bed. For the first time in ages, his sleep was nothing, devoid of the adventures he wished he could have. Journeys to take, Gym Leaders to fight, places to explore, friends to make. He wanted that. But here there was nothing. Unceasingly, the rain came down hard, mist floating through the open bars and coating everything with little droplets of water. The air was chilly, and in his sleep, Batoy shivered.

The sound of an opening door stirred Batoy into awakening. “H-Huh? What now?” Two uniformed men stepped through, their boots smacking on the wet floor. “What… do you want?” he asked, a nervous tingle growing in his stomach. The two men beckoned him to rise. “We’re going to gather your belongings. You’re being bailed out.”

A look of surprise claimed him. “Wha… bailed out?” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. How long had he been in here? A week, right? Hulett had mentioned eight days. It might have been August already. Had that been enough time? “What belongings?” Batoy mumbled to himself. He had nothing but what he carried in his pockets. Instead, after a moment’s hesitation he scooped up the Eevee into his arms as gently as he could as if not to wake her. She was limp. “…Meta…” he mumbled, yet the Eevee did not even twitch. A wave of disappointment fell over him. She smelled pungent. He trudged out of his damp, dank cell, escorted by the men, a dark shadow draped over his face.

They passed through the halls again, but Batoy slowed for a moment. He could hear voices, loud, shouting. They were coming from a door that was partially ajar. As they approached, the voices became clearer.

“…Not going to ask you again! Where did you hide the PGTC-012x chip?!”

“I didn’t take anything! I told you, I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t lie to us! Red hair, red hoodie, an electric Pokemon, you’re the one who’s been matched to these crimes. There is indisputable evidence supporting this!”

“But I didn’t fucking do it!”

As Batoy walked by, he caught a glimpse though the door before it was closed. The boy sitting in the chair could have posed as his twin in a look-alike contest. Red headed, he seemed to be a few inches taller than Batoy, and his eyes were a striking emerald green. For a second, their eyes locked, and Batoy felt an immense shiver flow through him and quickly looked away. In that one glance, there had been so much hatred and contempt, as well as utter bewilderment. They walked off, Batoy trying to shake the linger feeling.

This time it wasn’t an interrogation chamber which Batoy was led to, but a well-lit reception room. The entrance doors were made of glass, and he could see the outside drizzling lightly. There weren’t many people around, at least not many that were Batoy’s age. There was one spiky dark-headed boy about eighteen who caught his eye. He was close to the side, silent while an official spoke to him. But that wasn’t what interested Batoy the most. There on the boy’s sleeve was small, almost unnoticeable emblem, a circle with two ‘bones’ sticking out underneath it and a small point on the top. Suddenly, the boy glanced up, and their eyes met. A shiver passed though Batoy and he turned his head and continued walking. He’d seen those eyes before, but didn’t know where.

He was led into a small waiting room where Hulett and a brown-haired woman in a maroon blouse and tunic were waiting, sitting at a circular table. On that table was a tray, on which were four Pokeballs he instantly recognized as his own, though two others were missing. As he approached, Batoy ducked his head and avoided the woman’s sight. He was directed to a seat right next to her, and he sat down, the Eevee still cradled in his arms. Hulett took a seat opposite of them. “You’re a very lucky boy,” he stated calmly, though his right brow twitched slightly.

Batoy bit his lip and glanced up sheepishly at the woman beside him. She did not return the glance. “Thank you for finding and taking care of Batoy for us. I assure you, his actions will be met with the appropriate consequences,” the woman said without a rise in emotion, causing Batoy to shy away. He sighed and reached forward, pulling the tray closer to him. The Pokeballs were quickly pocketed.

An exchange between the official and the woman went on for a few moments before Hulett began to rise. He seemed troubled about something, yet kept it covered for the most part. “Remember kid, theft gives you a pretty bad record, regardless of the reasons. No matter how you think your home life is, you can’t run away from it. Hope things look up for you, kid,” he said. Batoy nodded.

The woman turned to leave and Batoy followed suit. The woman moved swiftly, and Batoy trotted behind her until they’d reached the outdoors. There were heavily wooded mountains surrounding the center, the farthest of which were hidden by the thick thunderous clouds over the horizon. Winding about those mountains was a single road. The skies overhead had broken up considerably, and the sun shone brightly through the mixture of low cumulus and high cirrus clouds. Batoy sighed as he soaked up the warm rays. “Wow… it feels wonderful out here…” he muttered softly to himself, but there was a bit of emptiness inside.

“Batoy, come on!” The boy snapped out of his daze, and scampered over to the woman. She’d already taken her seat in a sleek blue convertible. He slipped into the passenger seat, the Eevee in his lap, and they took off with great speed. Within moments, the Penal Center was out of sight, and the hover-car was racing away from the low mountains and over water. For several hours, they rode in silence, passing in and out of Jubilife City. New mountains appeared in the horizon. A growing anxiety grew within Batoy’s gut.

“L-Liz?” he asked nervously, glancing up at the expressionless woman.

She responded neither with speech or look for several moments. Her massive amount of deep black hair whipped in the winds of the open-canopy vehicle. Finally, without a glance, she spoke. “How’s Meta?” she asked without the least bit of concern audible.

Batoy glanced down at the unmoving Pokemon. “W-Well… I don’t know… she needs medical attention really badly. Can’t we please go to a Pokemon Center? They wouldn’t heal her!”

The woman, Lizbeth, went silent. The road tamed a bit and began to incline. “Did she fight well? Did you log her progression?”

“She was in pain!” Batoy said, his face scrunched up in hopeless anger. “She hated me for letting you do that to her!” He tightened his hold around the Eevee, holding her to his chest.

“You’re the one who volunteered her,” Lizbeth said blankly, and there was silence again. She glanced down. “Why do you always do this?” she asked eventually, the answer already known to her.

The boy glanced down, shame radiating from him. “I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

The woman shook her head. “Batoy, don’t try to fool me. You keep volunteering for these things and then backing out of them, making things hard for everyone. Did anyone stop you from retrieving the Pokemon Castform?”

His head went down. “Well… no, but…”

Lizbeth sighed, and gave Batoy a quick glance, and for once Batoy wished she hadn’t. “You’re young, I know, and I’m sure you mean well, Batoy, but my superiors are getting very impatient with your lack of success. I don’t know why you chose to release that Castform rather than turn it over, but such things affect my reputation as well as yours.”

“B-But, Liz!! I’m really, really trying! I know I screwed up over Luft, but I just couldn’t let them do to him what they did to Meta! It just hurt so bad to think that he’d have to go through the same thing…” Batoy said, his fingers starting to dig into the Eevee. “I didn’t mean to mess up, but I…!”

His pleading was silenced by a stern look from Lizbeth. “I’m holding my neck out for you, Batoy, did you know that? These jobs are not subject to your emotions. You’re volunteering for them, and you need to see them completed. Now, I know you. You’ve always been good at hiding things. Where’s the chip?"

Butterflies fluttered in his gut. "I… I stuffed it into one of the inside pockets of my pants…." Batoy said meekly. He felt sick. Why hadn’t he told her where it really was? “Um… Liz… what happened on Leena Island?”

Lizbeth was silent for a moment before casting another half-glance towards Batoy. Her jaw twitched. “Where’d you hear about that?”

“Well… back at that place… I overheard them talking about it, but… I don’t know where it is….”

“Well…” Lizbeth licked her lips. “Leena Island is… or was… a small island south-south-west of Cinnabar Island. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, really; a small village population, an extinct volcano, tropical fauna and whatnot, except there was an abnormally large Magmar population there. But unfortunately, Team Aqua caught wind of our plans to establish a base there, and contacted the military who… somehow managed to erase the island from the map. When we arrived, there was total devastation. Half the island had disappeared beneath the waves. No one survived, and what remained above the surface had been scorched. To survive an encounter with the military is a blessing by the grace of God.”

Batoy clutched Meta to his chest. “One of us, at least… what am I gonna do now?”

“Well, you’re going to have to deliver that chip to Brand. He’s in Eterna City at the moment. It’s on the north end of these mountains.” Batoy’s eye twitched slightly, something she caught rather easily. “I know you don’t want to, but that’s who you must report to. Don’t go to anyone else, and don’t give that chip to anyone else.”

The car slowed to a halt along the side of the road. The wooded areas had returned; the massive pine trees reached high into the air. A sweet aroma drifted through the air. Batoy glanced around, unsure of why they’d stopped. “Huh? What’re we doing here? What about Meta?” Lizbeth motioned him out of the vehicle; he complied reluctantly, the Eevee cradled in his arms. She circled around the back, pulling a backpack out.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to take you into Eterna City, so you’ll have to go through this forest to reach it. We’re just outside Floaroma Town. I need to head north to take care of business in Snowpointe.” She handed the backpack to Batoy. “Just head northeast from here and you should reach it within a day. The backpack has food for you and your Pokemon. You should be okay. And take care of… that. It’s dead,” she said, pointing towards the Eevee.

He tried to say something, but the words got caught in Batoy’s throat and he could only nod, clutching the Eevee tightly against him. He pulled the backpack up on his shoulders; it was only slightly heavy, something he could get used to in a few moments.

Lizbeth made her way back into the car. “Don’t get caught, Batoy. Our jobs are on the line.”

Batoy watched as she disappeared from sight. “I won’t… you wouldn’t care anyways….” The sudden quiet left him feeling insecure and lonely. He glanced up at the mountainous terrain around him and stared at the giant trees. The trees were spaced apart, and their trunks were thick, their branches high. It’d be easy to progress through if he kept to the natural trails. The haunting song of the wind as it passed through the canopy reached Batoy’s ears, and after shivering, he started forward. Did he know where he was going? No. But if he just kept going forward, he’d reach someplace eventually.