Chapter 29: Ships and Seaports

Vermillion City was a seaport where heat waves swayed above amber ribbed roofs and ocean waves preyed at cliffs of reinforced stone. White picket fences and a single hedge wall squared off a corner of the city where a Machop stomped on a patch of flattened earth.

Unlike Cerulean, which had clustered in a cozy maze, Vermillion's sprawl served to remind me of just how big the world really was. I stood, back to the path, facing a vast expanse of azure.

I had seen the sea a few times back in my old world, having visited both sides of the States, but then it had been a gray, churning monster with black wrinkles and frothy lips. It had remained that way even at Bill's, and I hadn't caught a glimpse in Pallet, too preoccupied with other matters.

Here, however, the monster was tamed, with crystalline skin that quivered like a child's laugh and pale gold reflections brushed on with the care of an impressionist.

Then the stench of fish and chemicals assaulted my nose.

Green must have caught it at the same time, because he actually went so far as to hold his nose with one hand, the other fanning in front as if to ward the smell off.

A grin split my face. Your nose adjusts to the smell, but you never entirely adjust to the sea.

"What are you so happy about?" the boy next to me complained. "It reeks here."

I laughed, the sound bubbling up from my throat. "Isn't it exciting? It's the ocean."

"I live next to the ocean. And it doesn't smell nearly as bad."

I shrugged. "Well I have no clue. It could be because Pallet's not a port city; I don't know."

"You don't know much, do you?"

"Never claimed to," I retorted, walking forward. He really knew how to kill the mood. No need to stick around this jerk any more than necessary.

"Hey where are you going?"

I turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Into the city. See ya."

"Why the sudden rush?"

"Why the sudden interest?" I threw over my shoulder, feet in motion. "And since you're so curious, I need to visit the Pokémon Center."

I walked to the middle of town and turned around, spotting the red-roofed building immediately. Entering it, I approached the nurse. "Excuse me, I need to—"

"Welcome to our Pokémon Center! Would you like me to heal your Pokémon back to perfect health?"

"Yes, please," I replied, brushing off her interruption. I was used to their habits by now. "Also one of my Pokémon was hit with a Sleep Spore midflight. Could you check on her? She's the Pidgeotto."

"Of course we can!" the nurse gave a true smile this time, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.

We? I gave her my card, and she deviated from the usual procedure to click at the computer monitor before nodding and starting the healing process.

"Thank you for waiting!" she gave me back my Poké Balls. "We've restored your Pokémon to full health, including your Pidgeotto. We hope to see you again!" she finished her words with a bow.

I gave a jerky nod, still uncomfortable about bowing outside of a dojo. I noticed it was more common here than back at home, though nothing like I'd heard it was like in Japan. So was this place some sort of in-between? It was something to think about, for sure.

I turned around, eyes widening briefly at the sight of Green before stepping to the side to let him pass. Of course, he needs to use the Pokémon Center too. Nevertheless, my hands tightened into fists. But I don't like it.

Sharp caramel-brown eyes. I wriggled under them like a speared fish.

He sees too much.

Before I could leave, a young girl with violet hair pulled up in a ponytail accosted me.

She was handing out Vs. Seekers, items that apparently all trainers worth their salt owned. If you used it, then it sent a message to all nearby trainers that you wanted to battle, and they could choose on their own machine whether they wanted a match or not. Apparently this was also handy for rematches.

I couldn't see why you couldn't just walk up to someone and ask for a rematch, but maybe this would be a good item if you couldn't speak.

It'd be perfect for Red.

I shook off how my stomach squirmed in a twister at his name. I knew that feeling, that relentless hound.

I couldn't escape it. But I could try.

ooo

Leaving the Pokémon Center with Green still inside, I glanced around the city. It might be a good idea to head for the ship…St. Anne right? I should try and train up my Pokémon a bit. Especially my Sandshrew. She'll be useful against Lieutenant Surge.

I chuckled. Besides, I don't want to miss the party.

My steps were even and unhurried on my way to the docks. More haste, less speed, I thought. The sight of the ship itself, gleaming seashell white and tiered like an iced cake, took my breath away. Laughter and music drifted on the wind. Flashing my ticket to the sailor, I stepped onboard.

The interior matched the exterior in its crisp, upscale feel. The walls were white with navy blue stripes and clear portholes through which I could see the ocean. The floors were wood slats and waxed so hard I could see my reflection in them. At my entrance, a sailor approached to warn me that most of the guests were Pokémon trainers and restless from their long voyage. I walked farther before being stopped by a man in a tuxedo carrying a tray of drinks.

"Bonjour," he greeted, "Do you intend to stay on ze ship when it leaves? I notice you have no luggage," he eyed my yellow satchel skeptically. His dialect was definitely French. He even accented the last syllable of his words.

"No," I replied. "I'm just visiting." Though it would be awesome to stay onboard and go on a yearlong cruise, I doubt I could get much stronger by doing so. Plus, I don't want to risk this turning out like the anime.

No. Far better to leave before I pushed my luck.

"I see…a visiting trainer," the man replied, nodding to himself as if I had confirmed his expectations. "Then enjoy your brief stay on the S.S. Anne. You have arrived just in time for le party."

"What time is it anyway?" I asked.

"Three o'clock," he responded. "Le party ends at six, and ze ship sails at eight. Be sure to leave before then."

"Thanks, I will," I nodded.

"And," he continued, "I am le waiter on this ship! I will be happy to serve you anything you please!"

"Oh really?" I asked. "Do you have any lemonade then? I'm really thirsty."

"Oui," he replied, taking a tall glass from his tray and handing it to me. "Ze lemonade."

I glanced at it before reaching my hand out to grab it. There was even sugar sprinkled around the rim of the cup. How classy. I almost rolled my eyes.

Shrugging, I took a sip, found it delicious, and started to gulp it down. It was hot outside.

"Would you like some more, mademoiselle?"

"Yes, please," I nodded.

Taking another glass, I left him to search the ship, still sipping my lemonade.

I was in a long corridor with seven rooms. From my slowly deteriorating video game knowledge, I knew that I had to enter these doors and battle the trainers within. Taking a deep breath, I decided on the one at the far right, near the stairs going up.

Knocking politely, I waited for an affirmative response before entering. Within was a person who, at first glance, seemed to be nothing more than a smartly dressed gentleman. At second glance, I realized he was in a disguise, and a poorly done one at that.

"What the—?"

"Ssh…!" he held up a finger before his mouth and glanced around in paranoia. "I'm a Global Police agent," he emphasized the words as if they deserved to be capitalized. "I'm on the trail of Team Rocket. They're up to nothing good!"

I stared at him. "Global…Police?"

"Yes," he nodded, holding up an official-looking ID like the FBI did in movies. I would've laughed, except I was far too dumbfounded.

"So…why are you here?" I asked slowly. If my memory was correct, Team Rocket had never approached S.S. Anne in the games, so there was no reason for the agent's presence.

He shook his head impatiently. "Didn't you hear me the first time, miss? I'm on the trail!"

"I guess so," I replied doubtfully. "But I don't think they're here."

"And how would you know that?" he squinted at me suspiciously. "Might you be one of them?"

I wanted to facepalm. "No. I met them in Mt. Moon is what I'm saying." And ran from them like a coward.

"Ah, yes," he nodded. "I heard about that. But they're not there anymore."

My eyes sharpened, "Where are they then?" Aren't they in Celadon City or Lavender, or both, right now? I don't remember which, though they might've split up their forces.

The man looked hesitant, and then shrugged. So much for secrecy. "One of my contacts told me there was activity near this area, though I've seen nothing of them so far."

"Probably because they're not here," I reasoned, deciding to give him a hand. "After all, wouldn't it make more sense to target a more important place, like Saffron or Celadon?"

"Yes…those are what we call the Twin Capitals of Kanto."

"Twin Capitals?"

"Yes. Celadon is the commercial center of Kanto. It also houses the regional branch of the Association. Saffron is the business center. They are the two largest cities in the entire region."

Interesting. More information on this place. Information was always nice.

"So you really think they're over there, then?" he asked.

"Probably," I nodded. "After all, why would they be here?"

"Indeed, why would they? Though I doubt my contact was wrong, either…" he stroked his chin, lips pursed.

I shrugged, crossing my arms. "Who knows? In any case, I need to get going. Don't want to miss the party, after all."

The man laughed, "Of course. I should be heading there myself. Perhaps I'll learn more about Team Rocket."

"Perhaps," I waved at him before exiting the room.

"Speaking of that…where is the party?" I mumbled aloud.

"Hey, mister!" I called the waiter over. "Do you know where the party is?"

"Ah, it eez on le deck," he beamed professionally and pointed at the stairs leading up. Thanking him and returning my now-empty glass, I headed for them.

After going up another set of stairs nearby, I reached an open doorway that led to the deck. Even without going outside, I could see that the deck was packed with trainers of all kinds, a few very recognizable from the games. Waiters holding plates weaved through the gathering with expert precision. A boy in a tuxedo played Chopin's étude: Tristesse in a corner from an ebony grand piano, the sound managing to float above the buzz of the crowd.

Apparently the annual party on S.S. Anne was very popular and very ritzy.

The deck was big. About the size of a ballroom, and yet it was still packed. Not as bad as it could have been, with people squished up against the metal railing like sardines, but enough that I started to relax.

A large group of people, and I would tense up at the prospect of social contact, but get the group big enough and I could breathe. After all, in a crowd, no one notices an individual.

Everyone was dressed to impress, so I stood out a bit in my travel clothes. However, no one gave my lack of propriety a second glance aside from a few classy-looking people with jewelry dangling off their ears and necks. I didn't pay them any mind however. I knew snobs when I saw them.

I smirked when the breeze picked up and they had to hold their perfectly arranged hairstyles in place. Oh yes. There was always wind of some kind on the shore. Their pinched expressions made it worth the trouble my hair was being, whipping around like a brown octopus underneath my hat.

My hair lightened in the summer. It wasn't that drastic, though. It was usually dark brown, but lightened to an ash brown in the summer. I had a friend whose hair changed even more than that, going from pale reddish-blond to auburn, with bright Irish red in-between.

I miss her.

The thought had come out of the blue, but it hit me like a truck. I struggled to keep a calm face, not wanting to suddenly tear up around strangers, especially these strangers.

Or not-so-strangers.

"Is that you Catch?" a familiar peppy voice called.

Quickly shoving my melancholy away, I turned around, spotting Misty, stunning in a sleeveless turquoise gown that brought out the color of her eyes.

"We match," she smiled, glancing at my outfit.

I looked down at my sweat-stained aqua shirt, comparing it to her dress. Yes, similar color. But not the same at all.

"So how have you been?" she took a sip from a glass of what I was pretty sure was fruit juice. I mean, she wasn't anywhere near the legal drinking age.

Wait, what is the legal drinking age here? Well, whatever it is, she isn't legal.

"I've been fine," I replied, glancing over at a long table piled with food and bottles of wine. The wine looked boring, but the food…

Pasta of all shells, sauces, and meats nudged plates of beef in slices, stews, and even spears. Shellfish pushed for room against fish done up in every way possible: from grilled to sashimi. Vegetables and mushrooms marbled the dishes in colorful array. Lastly, bowls of sauces and berries ringed what looked like giant cantaloupes.

There were also desserts. Cakes, pastries, puddings, tarts, you name them. Some had chocolate ribbons, others whorls of cream, even more had rings of fruit. In the centerpiece was a fantastic cake shaped to look like the S.S. Anne. I couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship.

Misty's eyes followed my gaze and she giggled, pushing me toward the table. "Go on. I can tell you're hungry. Battling takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?"

I nodded to her and picked up a plate, piling it with a little of everything except the dessert, which I would eat later. I also grabbed bottled water from a cooler, taking note of the brand on it—an S curved around two circles. Huh. Silph seems to own everything here.

Honestly, I wasn't sure what to think about that.

So I decided not to—think about it, that is. For now, it was none of my business. And hopefully it would remain so.

When I returned to Misty, we chatted about everything and nothing. Small talk. How was life going? What had I seen since Cerulean (not much)? And most importantly of all…

"Where's Red? I noticed he wasn't with you."

I laughed nervously. Trust Misty to notice something like that. I didn't miss the way her eyes slid past my frame, searching for an absent presence.

That was Red. Even when he was gone, he still made an impression. Like a shadow where there should've been a star. You knew something was supposed to be there. Something more than just empty space.

Yeah, I admitted, ignoring the familiar churning in my stomach at his name. I miss him.

Red had made an impression on me, even if I had known him for less than six days.

I smiled a fake smile, knowing Misty would see through it as easily as I could. "He left. On his way to become a Pokémon master," I laughed. It was a short laugh, a painful one.

The redhead said nothing for a second, her teal eyes sharp and taking in everything I said and didn't say. I smiled a lopsided smile. Yeah. It's my fault. I'm the one that sent him away.

I expected her to slap me, or to harangue me. What I did not expect was for her to smile sadly and do nothing.

"I see," she said. "Perhaps we'll see him again, soon?"

It was a gentle reminder that nothing was ever permanent. We would see Red again, the both of us. That empty space wouldn't always remain so.

And then you'll leave, and it'll stay empty, a familiar, horrible voice whispered in my ear.

"Yeah," I smiled, ignoring its words. "For sure."

We moved on to other topics. Pokémon care, the trainers with the most potential, which was better: quantity or quality? I still maintained that quantity counted for a lot, but I had to admit that Red had done pretty well with a couple high-quality Pokémon. We also discussed battling style. Then we moved on to the real topic of Misty's choice.

Relationships.

I smiled at the way her eyes sparkled when she discussed her dreams. How she wanted a white knight that would sweep her off her feet and give a smile meant only for her. He wouldn't care about her small bust size or her tomboyish aspects. In his eyes, she would be beautiful, perfect even.

"He sounds like quite a catch," I grinned, not realizing the pun until the words had already left my mouth.

Laughing slightly, Misty turned to me, eyes intent. "What about you? What's your perfect guy like?"

From her sharp eyes and the way she leaned forward like a bird of prey, I had the feeling I better be careful about my answer.

"Me?" I asked. "Um…" Honestly…it didn't really matter. I was never the type of girl guys liked to date. Perhaps I intimidated them. I seemed to intimidate quite a few people when my temper flared up.

"I don't really have a type," I answered.

"No?"

"No."

"That's so strange," Misty said. "So you've never dated?"

"No," I answered. None of my crushes had ever panned out to anything.

"Me neither," she sighed, stretching her arms behind her head. "All the guys around here are either too immature or old enough that it'd be creepy to date them." Her eyes brightened, "Like him. Hey, Surge!" she waved.

Surge? I turned around. Yep. That was him all right. He wore a light blue jacket and a black shirt over blue jeans. Of course he would wear blue jeans at a fancy party. Then again, I'm not much better.

"Hey, squirt. When did you get here?" he boomed out as he approached.

He's huge, I thought in awe. Maybe if I were at full height, I wouldn't think so, but I doubted it. He was a giant. Has to be at least six feet, probably more.

It was slightly intimidating, actually. Plus he radiated such power. That was the word. Perhaps it was his presence that made him seem bigger than he actually was.

"I've been here a while," Misty pouted beside me before straightening. "Lieutenant Surge, I'd like you to meet Catch Hall. Catch, this is Lieutenant Surge, Gym Leader of Vermillion City."

"Nice to meet you, kid," he held out a hand to shake, and I took it. "So you're the one with the special Pidgeotto then? Not that it'll be any good against me," he laughed a big-bellied laugh that seemed to shake the very air.

I smiled nervously.

"Lieutenant Surge specializes in electric Pokémon," Misty explained.

Yeah, I know that. I also know that he's a paranoid war vet with a badass Raichu that usually ends up causing at least one of my Pokémon to faint.

I kept my mouth shut. No need to put my foot in it.

"Really?" I made an interested noise. "Then that means I'll have to step up my game."

And I would. Granola, my best fighter, would be useless in that match. Hopefully my Sandshrew would be able to do the job. That reminds me…I'll have to train her up on the ship.

"Hah, you got guts, shrimp. I like that," he clapped me on the back so hard it hurt.

I fought back a wince of pain. "Glad you think so…"

Eventually, Lieutenant Surge and Misty started to chat about various topics. I guess I could have stayed, but I had finished eating and was currently looking for a waiter to flag down and take my plate. Plus, I wanted to explore the deck more.

I wandered off, saying goodbye to the two of them, and received hearty replies before their conversation resumed.

After giving a waiter my plate, I glanced around automatically, seeking a certain shade of red. I sighed, shaking my head. Why am I looking for him? He's not going to be here…misses the party if I'm not mistaken.

My eyes spotted a flash of red. Red? I dove through the crowd hurriedly, but my shoulders sagged when I got closer.

No, it's just this weirdo with red hair and a red cape. False alarm. I started to turn around when my thoughts caught up to me.

"Lance?"

I had not expected to see Lance, of all people, here. I hadn't expected to see him until the Elite Four, actually. That was his lair. Unless you were in Johto. Then he'd be wandering around fighting bad guys. But still.

The man turned, and I blushed when I realized I must have said his name louder than I thought. That was embarrassing.

"Do I know you?" he raised a brow.

"No." Stupid red people copycatting my move. "No, you don't."

"I see," he nodded, and then glanced at my Poké Ball wristband. "Ah, you are a trainer?"

"…Yeah."

"Perhaps we'll battle sometime, then," he smiled faintly. I wasn't sure if he was mocking me or if he genuinely meant it.

I was no Red, who lived and breathed battling. Nor was I Green, who had the mind of a grandmaster.

I was just Catch.

"Perhaps," I laughed. Frankly, the idea was preposterous. I didn't care to battle the League. I was perfectly happy to sit that one out and cheer Red on.

Maybe Lance saw that, because both of his eyebrows rose like arrowheads. "You doubt your skills?"

"Well…honestly, yes," I replied. Would I lose against the current Champion? Yes. Undoubtedly. He could probably wipe the floor with all three of us: Red, Green, and me teamed up against him.

"Humph, it is good to be realistic, but do not put yourself down so far you lose sight of your skills."

What are you, a guru? "Thanks for the advice," I smiled a fake smile, glancing past him to the gleaming metal railing at his back. My innards roared in an inverted hurricane, the calm eye facing out.

Neither authority nor titles had ever impressed me. I had seen both fail far too many times for that. However, there was something intimidating about Lance. It was different from Surge. Surge, who seemed to fill up every inch of the space he occupied. Surge, who despite his belly laughs and handshakes, could not stop his eyes from straying, assessing his surroundings with a hard gleam. I did the same whenever I felt particularly paranoid. No, Lance was not paranoid.

He was calm in the way professional athletes were. Dominant, poised, and almost regal. Even if I hadn't known he was the Champion, I would have guessed so from his aura alone.

The man…boy…whatever, (it was hard to tell, honestly), chatted for a while longer, and I tried to keep from embarrassing myself, with limited success.

"So, as a trainer, you must have a favorite type," he started, brown eyes coolly assessing. I ignored the way they seemed yellow in the light, instead focusing on his cape. Red on the inside, black on the outside. It kind of made him look like a vampire in a suit and oh my gawd I was comparing Lance to a vampire what the hell was wrong with me?

Shit, he asked me a question, didn't he?

"Steel," I answered, voice quiet. "That's my favorite type," I added. Just in case he doesn't know what I'm talking about, which is stupid since he just asked me a question and I just answered it of course he would know what I'm talking about what else would we be—

"Really? What an interesting answer."

"Hmm?" Oh gawd why did I say something weird—

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just that most new trainers choose something different, like fire or water," he answered.

They just don't know what they're missing. I crossed my arms, nervousness falling off like a cloak. "Well, true, the steel typing may not be as flashy as those two, but it's something entirely different." I smiled in dreamlike thought. "I don't expect most will really understand the beauty of steel plating with its shimmering surface, the delicate power of treated metal that creeps through molten veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"

Wait. I had totally been channeling Snape at his fangirliest.

Oh gawd.

Lance nodded, expression gentler. "You sound quite passionate about steel types. That's good." His eyes turned distant. "As for me, I channel my passion for dragons into my battling. Dragon types are my favorite, after all," his eyes blazed, and I couldn't stop my smile as he started to ramble. Apparently, dragon types were the most mythical, mysterious of all the types. Not only that, but they were the most powerful and indestructible, and required little to no tactics to bring out their full power (unlike steel, apparently). True, they were hard to raise, but the payoff was more than worth it.

It was quite a bit later when he finally stopped, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't leave you a chance to say anything."

"No," I shook my head. "Your talk was quite…enlightening," I smiled, "It's obvious you care quite a bit about dragon types. Would it be safe to assume you're a dragon tamer?"

"Hm, you've heard about them? Yes, I am one of their strongest members, if not the strongest," he puffed out his chest.

Well, he's not short on pride, I thought. "Oh really? Well, that's impressive. What Pokémon do you have?" I was genuinely interested, having forgotten all of them but Dragonite.

He smiled, "I have a Gyarados, two Dragonair, an Aerodactyl, and last but not least, my Dragonite, who was my first Pokémon. I'm also training a Seadra in reserve."

Okay, I have to ask. "Wait…I don't get it. You have a Gyarados and an Aerodactyl? When neither are dragons types?"

"Ah, so it seems you caught me," Lance shook his head. "I should have expected that. You are far more knowledgeable than most newbies."

I flushed. I think that's the first time anybody's actually complimented me on the subject of Pokémon. Red hadn't, and Green certainly hadn't. It felt…nice. "…Thanks, but…you're not avoiding the question are you?"

His eyes narrowed before he gave a brief chuckle. "If you must know, when I say dragon, I do not only mean the type, though that is my favorite. To be a dragon encompasses more than just one's typing. It is in one's heart." He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "If one has the heart of a dragon, one is truly a dragon. You cannot be one without it."

That…sounded incredibly cheesy. But I had no doubt he was being completely serious. "I see," I nodded, attempting to listen to his words with all due gravity.

"You may not believe me now, but you will learn, later, that one's identity is not solely determined by one factor, but many," the champion stated, completely confident. "Gyarados and Aerodactyl may not have the dragon typing, but they have the dragon spirit."

"And what makes the dragon spirit, exactly?"

He lifted his head, seemingly staring into the distance. "The ferocious defense of one's territory, a solitary soul, a drive to improve, and the will to change." His eyes glimmered before he glanced down. "Have you heard the story of the first Gyarados?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't."

His expression was stern. "Listen, then, for this is important. It is said, in a faraway land, that there is a waterfall called the Dragon's Gate. It is here where our story takes place." His voice took on a narrative air.

He must do this a lot, I thought, amused, and noted how everyone in the vicinity had gone quiet, listening to the dragon master's tale. That's both amusing and impressive.

"Magikarp are weak fish, though they were slightly stronger back then. Swimming against the current is almost impossible for them. Still, once a year, countless Magikarp gathered at the Dragon's Gate, attempting to leap over the cataract to become dragons. A nigh impossible task.

"However, one Magikarp would not give up. When his fellows left for their homes, he did not. Instead, he stayed, and attempted, again and again, to leap over the waterfall. The task was daunting. For every inch he gained, he lost many more when he let himself slip from exhaustion. By now, he had earned himself an audience of fellow Magikarp, most telling him it was wasted effort. But he did not give up. Eventually, he gained the strength and endurance necessary to leap straight over the waterfall. In that moment, his body glowed white, and he transformed into a Gyarados. Elated by his success, he flew off into the sky, creating rain with his every movement. The other Magikarp saw this, and were inspired by his achievement. It is said that even now, there are still Magikarp who evolve this way."

The dragon master finished with a serious expression. "That spirit the former Magikarp possessed…that is what it means to be a dragon."

I nodded to him, digesting his words. I had never thought about dragon types that way. In this light, they seemed far more impressive than I had ever given them credit for.

"If you keep this tale in your hearts, I am sure that all of you could develop the heart of a dragon as well," Lance addressed not only me, but also everyone around us.

The surrounding people murmured amongst themselves, and I caught glimpses of Misty and Surge among them. Lance's words had had an effect.

Impressive, really. I couldn't help but be a little jealous. I knew if I had tried the same thing, I wouldn't even have had a gathering.

Lance gazed at the crowd. "Remember my words." Turning his head to look at me, he gave me a crisp nod before striding toward the edge of the ship, cape swirling behind him with each step. The crowd parted for him like a wave. Releasing a giant amber-scaled Pokémon I recognized as a Dragonite, he hopped on and flew away without a word.

Now that's showmanship, I thought.

"Wow…that was Lance, the Champion…" Misty sighed from her sudden position beside me.

I turned, startled despite myself. "Huh? Oh! Y-yeah, I guess so," I stammered.

"You talked to him, right? I saw you! What was he like?"

"Him? Um…" my brain seemed to stop, the gears stuck in place. "He was…nice?" At her glare I continued. "He was very passionate about dragon Pokémon." That was an understatement. "He told a tale about the first Gyarados."

"Yeah, I heard. Isn't it amazing? I never heard that story before."

"Me neither," I shook my head. "It was…well, honestly…pretty interesting."

"I know, right?" Misty's eyes sparkled. "That was sooo cool. I swear I could see the waterfall myself, shimmering like a thousand rainbows."

Okay, your romantic exaggerations aside… "Yeah, he's a good storyteller."

"And his voice was so deep and soothing."

I coughed, recognizing the tone one of my friends used when she fangirled. "Falling for him?"

"What?! N-n-no!"

"Uh-huh."

"It's true!" her voice rose. "I like someone else!" At that, she clapped a hand over her mouth. So obvious.

"Oh?" I raised a brow. "Who could that be?" A certain brunette with a liking for caps?

"I-it doesn't matter!"

I was about to tease her some more when I heard an obnoxious voice cut through the air. "So there you are!"

Crap.

I groaned, shuffling my feet like a penguin before finally facing him. "Hey, Blue. What's up?" You were looking for me? I kept my voice casual. The pale pink hand mark was gone, I noted, relieved. Well, I hadn't slapped him that hard anyway, but still. It had stood out like a badge of shame for my loss of temper.

"Not much, loser," he retorted.

I fought back a riposte. Typical Green. He'd as much insult you as greet you.

Said boy rolled his shoulders back, looking completely comfortable surrounded by opulence even in his black shirt and stupid purple pants. Of course nobody shot him weird looks. Instead, they shot him admiring glances, some even walking up to him and introducing themselves.

It was completely unfair. But that was life.

I debated leaving during the commotion, but I had a feeling Green would just be an ass and draw attention to me if I did. Not that I didn't already have eyes on me. Probably from my grubby appearance and talking to Lance, which I still didn't want to think about too much because oh my gawd I just talked to Lance what the f—!

"So how are you liking the party?" he asked when we finally had a chance to talk.

It'd be better if you weren't here. "Oh, it's just fine," I replied, taking a sip of water from my bottle. My hands shook a little, and I cursed internally.

When in the throes of anger, it was as if I were underwater, other emotions and common sense floating on the surface, out of reach. However, now, lucid, the nightmares confined to a small pen, I could think. I could fear.

And what I was afraid of now…was being found out. And Green, out of all the people here, had the sharpest eyes. Because of that, he was the last person I wanted to talk to.

Trust didn't come easily to me. It used to, once upon a dream, when childhood wasn't a memory and every stranger was a potential friend.

Red had been an anomaly, a moment of foolish exhaustion and guilt. Though I had relieved myself of some of the weight, it hadn't disappeared. Rather, the boy had taken it on instead, and I hadn't realized till it was too late.

Not only could I not ask Green to do the same, but I also couldn't trust him with the information. True, as a fictional character, he had been redeemable, a jerk with a heart of gold, but how could I know he would be the same here and to me?

So I pretended innocence and laughed like nothing was wrong. And Green played along, dragging me further into the party than necessary. Would I like to meet the Lady Beatrice? Her husband worked for Silph. Or, perhaps I would want to talk to the Baron Arthur? He had shares in multiple foreign enterprises.

What came next was a whirlwind of introductions, of social niceties and stabbing sentences sheathed in silk. The party was a daze of color, of chiffon and taffeta, makeup that glowed in the fading sun, and vacuous laughter that rang like bells.

This was a world I had abandoned long ago, but it was easy enough to slip into it like a gown and dance in red-hot shoes. And I danced. I danced until faces blurred before my eyes and names flowed together into a garbled stream, until all I felt was numbness and the sore ache in my jaws from smiling with muscles alone.

I left the throng to take a breather, facing the seaward side of the ship. That splendor of golden light and black shadows, that fantastic mosaic, filled my cup of life to the brim, till I was as lost as they were, a bacchant roisterer in summer leaves. That honeyed elixir was sweet intoxication, and had in fact, distracted me from my darker thoughts, from the hounds that never stopped their baying. But now…alone…

My hands gripped the silver railing, and I cast my gaze to the skies above, adrift in a sea of powdered faces. Above, the cloudless vault lay bare apart from the orange sun. There was no Polaris to guide me. An ice-cold thought settled around my shoulders like a winter cloak.

Perhaps even the stars are different here.

I felt my breath hitch, my heart clench, and I glanced down, eyes shadowed, lost. The only entity supporting me was the railing, lifting my arms like wings in a spurious display of flight. The ocean spray kissed my cheek, and, for one crazy, mad moment, I thought of diving into its embrace and letting it cradle me in its arms, rocking me to sleep.

Perhaps I would wake up at home, under pressed maroon covers. I would walk downstairs and cook an orderly breakfast for three in the too-large, organized kitchen and give an empty smile to two equally empty faces. We would sit at the dining table underneath a dusted chandelier. I would stare blankly at the polished walnut surface while they would converse in cold, clipped voices on current events. Eventually they would turn the talk to me, touching on any number of topics. My flagging grades, my floundering performance in the last game, or my friendship with a homosexual.

Or perhaps I'd wake up in one of the few rooms as familiar as my own. Sleeping bags and wrinkled blankets strewn on the floor in delicious disarray. One of my friends, dancing and singing off-key, cords dangling from her ears. Another friend, still in slumber. And the third, rocking back and forth on his heels, humming softly in perfect pitch.

Eventually I'd wriggle out of my bag and groan, forcing my smile into a frown, lips twitching, and scold my friend for making such noise so early in the morning. She'd stick her tongue out like a child, and eventually the both of us would be singing and dancing like fools, holding imaginary microphones, waking up the second friend who would fling a pillow at us. The last would laugh, shaking his head at our foolishness until three pillows hit him at once, and then the room would be a maelstrom of cushy projectiles.

Finished, we'd tramp downstairs to find breakfast already made, and play games in front of the living room television.

It felt more like a faraway dream, a hazy vision than a memory. I stared down at the ocean, seeking old faces in its pitted surface.

Eventually, I shook my head and sighed, letting one arm drop to dangle, and turned my face to the breeze. The golden fire dancing on the crests of the waves was far more mesmerizing than the flashing jewels of the party.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I turned my head to the left, reluctant to tear my gaze from the sea. "Blue," I said, though the sight that met my eyes was not the deep azure I had let myself sink into, but familiar hazel. Yes, hazel, because there really was no describing his eye color. Those murky globes seemed to change every time I looked at them, like mood rings. How annoying.

He seemed to notice my contemplation, because he spoke next. "What's up? Geez, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing, it's just…why do you always have to be so annoying?" I asked. "You haven't really left me alone today, what's up with that?"

There was something familiar in his expression. I had discounted it before because it was too ridiculous, but I couldn't deny it now.

Why would Green be concerned for me?

Sure, I hadn't been feeling the best for the past couple of days. In fact, I had been feeling downright mental, but what concern was that of his? Of anybody's?

My business was my own.

For once, the boy seemed to take my question seriously. He gazed out at the distant reaches of the sea, and when he spoke, his voice rolled out in a slow wave.

"You know…" he seemed to taste the words carefully, cautiously, "You can still apologize to Red."

I jerked in place before taking in a breath. Then, I laughed. A choking, disbelieving one. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"I can tell, you know," he continued as if I hadn't said anything. "You're hounded by guilt. It's eating you up inside."

What fitting words...

I bit back an angry retort, jerking my head to the right, where no one could see my tears. Damn it, I thought. I shouldn't be crying, especially not in front of him! But it was obvious to anyone looking, seeing the way my shoulders shook, that I was crying.

Instead of mocking me like I thought he would, the boy just sighed. "It's not too late, after all."

You can still make amends.

My mind whirred. I couldn't understand why he cared so much about my friendship with Red. What did it matter to him? He couldn't stand the boy. Despised him with all his being. I could see it in his eyes, the fathomless hate whenever he spoke of Red.

But…you've also seen something else as well.

An elusive emotion that flickered from his expression before I could grasp it. Gone, like a fairy flash, so quickly I had convinced myself it wasn't there.

I turned to Green, forgetting the salt that stained my cheeks, and there was that emotion again, captured in his eyes like a snapshot. Mixed with hate, regret, and pain. Feelings I had become all too accustomed to myself.

But this time, I could identify it, and it took my breath away.

Love.

He didn't only hate Red…

He loved him.

How is that possible? I thought. Something must have shown in my expression, because the next second, Green's face closed off. His shoulders hunched, and he turned away.

I had seen Green earlier. He had been charming, smiling, the center of the party. But that had been a mask. The real Green was here, cowering in the shadows, on the edges.

Like me. I closed that line of thought before it could get any further, and instead focused on the black-shirted back in front of me.

I had discounted Green. Discredited him as nothing more than a bully, a preteen jerk with little maturity and even less heart.

But he was far deeper than I had given him credit for.

A ninja must look underneath the underneath.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Who knew a Naruto quote of all things would be important here? Turning, I gazed at the sea, wiping away my tears.

I had thought Red and Green lived a rivalry of mutual dislike. But it seemed I was wrong. In hindsight, it should have been obvious. No one showered a single person with that much hatred unless there was a source, an emotional font if you will. I might have noticed it earlier, had I not been so wrapped up in myself.

After all, hate and love are just two sides of the same coin.

In that one moment, I made a goal. Perhaps it was dumb, when my first and only priority should have been to get home, but I couldn't help it.

Red and Green…I will find a way to mend your relationship.

I knew that a part of the reason I was doing this was to help soothe my own guilt. Perhaps if I got them to reconcile, it would make my own parting that much more bearable. I could leave knowing I had done at least one good thing.

But, the main reason was that, in the end, I felt that this was the right thing to do.

And perhaps making the right choice, rather than the best choice, was what my heart had wanted all along.

I smiled at the realization, an invisible weight lifting from my shoulders. The hounds…had finally stilled.

Suddenly, an acrid stench hit me, and I wrinkled my nose. Is that…smoke?

"Okay, nobody move! Unless you want this whole place to go boom."

Ohmygawd guys I am sooo sorry I know I've been really late with this ughhhh.

It's basically school's fault. I hate it. It sucks. Everything about it. Why give tests every three weeks...why? One week preparing, one week break, and then another week preparing. And that's for every single class I take, and the tests overlap a lot too. It sucks goblin stools.

And then afterward I was in "after-school recovery" or basically that feeling of numbness and exhaustion you get trying to recover from the horribleness that is school. Plus I had no motivation to write for some reason.

Playing Pokémon X probably had something to do with that. Btw, even though it's been a while since I played, my friend code is 4227-1870-9973.

Anyway. On to story notes. I had a lot of them this time because I wrote them as I was writing the chapter.

Tried to make this chapter a bit longer to make up for the wait. It helped that a certain someone suddenly decided to talk a lot...yes, this was a very talk-y chapter. Also Catch was somewhat poetic. Somewhat. Not much action either. But I also wouldn't call this chapter filler. Stuff got done. People were met. Still, there will probably be more action next chapter, idk.

And seriously, Japan loves Chopin. I think like every single anime I've seen with classical music has mainly used Chopin's pieces. Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2 is a popular one.

Also you can thank Lone Panda for the Lance cameo. She wanted to put him in earlier. I actually wasn't planning on putting him in till much later, but I think it can make sense for him to be at a trainer party, right? Also, I got the impression from the way he talks that he's kind of pompous, always going on about the pride of the dragon master, so I can definitely see him trying to be like some wise guru or something. I originally wasn't going to have him talk much, pretty much give a brief paragraph summarizing their whole conversation, but then I decided to show a bit of it, and he decided to lecture on the awesomeness of dragon Pokémon. Geez, Lance... And I know he has more Pokémon, but since they only show up after Kanto, I figure he probably gets them later.

There is no offense intended to those that like fire or water types. I just figured since types like steel and dark are more obscure *cough they weren't around until gen II cough* they'd be less popular in that world with newbies, so that's why Lance was surprised. Fire and water types are awesome, don't let anyone say otherwise.

The Gyarados story is heavily based on the Chinese legend of a carp leaping over the Dragon's Gate waterfall to become a dragon. I'm pretty sure this is what Magikarp's evolution into Gyarados symbolizes, so it was pretty easy to use that as an example. I also added a dash of The Little Engine that Could just because.
Edit: ZombieSlayers reminded me that in Pokémon Snap Magikarp evolves into a Gyarados when you knock it into the waterfall. I had completely forgotten about this, but it's a neat thing to know. ^_^

And no, by love, Catch does not mean romantic love in specific, just love in general, so calm down, yaoi fans (even if the pairing's kind of cute—gets shot). I'm pretty sure this will be a genfic, though I'm still debating on including hints of romance and if so with who. Oh well.

Also, random question that doesn't have to do with anything. Here in the States, we call mathematics "math", but I've heard it referred to as "maths" by non-Stategoers. Is that a thing then? I'm really fascinated by languages and dialects, so I was wondering.

Btw, I made fanart for the story to help inspire me to write, so you can check it out if you want. *shrugs* www*lethera*deviantart*com/art/Red-MNCMH-460922203

Thank you, very much to kenegi, SmileRen, ZombieSlayers, Lord Cow-Cow, Memory25, Bloodywings90, 1412 karasu, Angelic Fluffle, Fallen Vanguard, Hero of the Hazard, Lone Panda, ADDBaby, skylover4life, wtfh, CeresMaria, Weeping Pegasi, BloodyBel, Phairis, Naruto4Evar, PokeSpeBanette, rianiftria, TheSadMachine, nostalgicCyanide, Trainerprincess253, and all the lovely Guests for reviewing. And thanks to all you readers for your patience.

Saw Darkpetal16 do this with her fanfics, and it inspired me to do the same with this one. So, in case you don't know what I'm talking about, she does this thing where she asks a question at the end of each of her chapters, and I'll be doing the same here. You, as the reader, can answer it if you want, though you don't have to. At the end of the next chapter I will answer the question myself and then ask another one.

Question: What is your favorite Pokémon type and why?