Author's Notes: Wahhh¼ The reason this is so crazily late is that it took me quite a while to write it as it was¼and then my computer I had the chapter on passed away in a lightning-storm, so I lost the whole thing and had to rewrite it again! Grrr¼ Ironic, though, that electricity of all things was the thing to cause me to lose it¼ Maybe something is out there, trying to prevent its story from getting out, ne? Heh, just kidding of course. ;pPRIVATE
PRIVATE ~Z~ Darkness Doesn't Cast a Shadow ~Z~tc \l 1 "~Z~ Darkness Doesn't Cast a Shadow ~Z~"
Chapter Nine: A Revelation or Two
Three Chansey were assembled in each of the three corners of the room (excluding the one by the door), braced for anything that might go wrong.
Nurse Joy slipped on her rubber gloves, and Misty, Brock, and I stood apprehensively near the door. Of the three of us, I was furthest away from it, and this was something I was perfectly aware of. It had been a conscious decision.
I tensed up. "You're ready¼right?"
Everyone in the room nodded dazedly. I took a deep, slow breath and tapped the button that would enlarge the pokéball. It made a whirling sound and expanded in my palm. My fingers shook as I clutched the metallic object, warm from the heat radiating off my hand. Hesitantly, I called, "Pikachu, go."
As I watched my pokémon materialize, out of the corner of my eye I noticed that everyone had stiffened. We were all nervous. The Chansey had stepped closer to the middle of the room. Closer to where the plump form of Pikachu was just beginning to take on solidity.
When he emerged fully from the filmy red glow, he was crouched fretfully on the floor, curly ears pressed tightly to his head, and long, black tail coiled lightly around his legs. His eyes were scrunched shut.
"P-P-Pikachu¼?" I stammered, waiting uncertainly for some sort of response.
Steadily his eyes began to waver open, shining in a very strange way as he peered blearily at his surroundings. Swinging his head around, his liquid brown eyes met my own. I was surprised to find a tear already brimming in them, threatening with a faltering shimmer to overflow.
And then he spoke one word, a quiet whisper of a word. That single word shattered my heart.
"~Why¼?~"
His eyes drilled deep into my skull as he sat there, looking so tiny and bedraggled and pathetic, his battle wounds suddenly standing out and a inertia making his tail, ears, and general appearance withered.
He took several watery steps closer to me, until he was at my feet, looking up at me from next to one of my shoes. "~Why, Ash?~"
Guilt stabbed my insides, and I collapsed to my knees and placed my hand on the electric mouse's head. "It happened again, Pikachu," I stated simply, watching as despair fizzled in his eyes.
"Chuu," he murmured up at me, sadly and wistfully. "Chuu¼"
::=*POV Switch*=::
Guilt crept past my eyes. It had been there all along, I figured, as something translucent that was elusive and unobtrusive, waiting in the recesses of my mind to make itself known. And it finally had, thumping into my notice with the weight of a Blastoise's Body Slam. I was left without a meaningful word to say. I craved so fervently to apologize, and yet I felt it wasn't in my ability; for it appears one cannot hope to apologize for something that is not their fault, and expect for the apology to make things right again. From the years I had lived, I could pretty much conclude that much about the world.
I stood there, under the trivial burden of Ash's hand, which had lingered in its place on my forehead, and I murmured in Raichu-gibberish, not bothering to arrange my words into something meaningful, much as a newly hatched Pichu would do.
After some amount of time, I began to comprehend my surroundings, which had, until then, somehow managed to elude my attention. The stinging stench of antiseptic tingled in my nose, and the overlapping scents of hundreds, maybe thousands, of Pokémon visitors like myself, were echoed hollowly all over the floor and walls. It took almost no piecing-together whatsoever for me to grasp that I was in a Pokémon Center. This was confirmed almost irrefutably, when I spun on my heels to find an intent looking Nurse Joy situated behind the tin examining table. The varied scents and busy sounds outside the door told me that this was not the secluded one in Lavender, but rather one¼elsewhere.
The Joy put on a forged smile when my eyes met her face, querying, more to Ash than to me, "Okay, now that we've got that squared away, would you care to tell me what the problem is here?"
Ash took a deep, shivering breath and commenced explaining, never removing his eyes from me even for a second. "It started a couple of days ago, when my Pikachu got evolved by a Persian in a gym battle."—Nurse Joy's expression slightly suggested disbelief about this event, and it was obvious she was eager to ask questions—"Anyway, he got hurt pretty bad right before he evolved, and now he's got Evolution Radiation Syndrome because of that. But that's not really the weird part, or at least I don't think it is¼" Ash gulped nervously, then continued. "When he woke up this morning, he claimed that he saw a storm and heard a weird voice, but it was perfectly clear all day, and when I woke up, he tried to attack me, but he says he doesn't remember anything like that. Plus, we're best friends, he'd never do something like that on purpose!" Ash cried in my defense. "Then, he fell asleep earlier, and he got a really bad fever. I dropped him on accident when we were running here"—Ash blushed and cringed deeply at the same time—"and when he woke up, he ran away and got all crazy, trying to attack me again. He didn't remember that time either¼did you?"
Ash turned to me, and I nodded 'no' sullenly.
"It's really starting to scare me," Ash admitted, so quietly it was almost a mutter.
Nurse Joy, had, by then, taken out a notebook and started scribbling notes into it. Once Ash finished his explanation, her eyes intensely focused on him, her face hardened, and she inquired, "Are those the only strange things he's done? Is there anything else at all?"
"Well¼" Ash gazed up at the ceiling in endeavored remembrance. "Hmmm¼"
"~My dream¼~" I reminded him.
"Oh yeah! Good point, Pikachu. The other night he had a dream that he killed a Fearow. And¼and Misty noticed that when he got all aggressive and tried to attack me, his voice totally changed. I heard it, too. Instead of saying 'rai' and 'raichu' and stuff, he said, 'arashi'—or something like that--in a really deep voice. He was still able to say, 'chu,' too, though. I didn't even think his voice could go that low."
Nurse Joy's face took on a distinct sheen of bewilderment when she heard him say, 'Arashi.' At least, I'm pretty sure it was at that point. This was confirmed when she echoed, "Arashi, huh? Strange¼" She tapped the end of her pen on her chin. "Where have I heard that before¼?"
Ash appeared to be restraining himself from demanding an answer. Instead, he asked patiently, "So¼do you have any ideas about what could be wrong?"
"When I was in college, I took several courses on Pokémon psychology," Nurse Joy began. "And I think I may have found the answer there. This would sound far too strange a prospect to bring up in most cases, however, your case is exceptionally odd, and this is the only possibility I can find. I think your Raichu may have developed a rare psychosomatic problem called Multiple Personality Disorder."
"What's that?" Ash wondered, and then added, more urgently, "Can it be cured? Pikachu and I¼ Well, we don't know how much more time we have left together as it is¼" Ash tipped his head so his hat shadowed his face.
"There isn't all that much known about Multiple Personality Disorder. It first showed up in humans, but there have been a few scattered Pokémon cases, like your Raichu's. It is where the victim will suddenly switch behaviors at will, often acting like a completely different person or creature and doing things that would be considered incredibly out of character for them. In some cases, it has even been proven that the second personality has some different physical characteristics, such as a different heart rate, or different eyesight. It's a scientific enigma indeed. Nobody knows where it comes from, and, I'm very sorry to say, nobody knows how to cure it, either. However¼ Go to the Pewter City Museum. You may find some answers there to your Raichu's symptoms."
Without revealing his face from beneath the bill of his hat, Ash leaned down and picked me up in his arms, holding me close to his body. I could feel some shudders racing through him. His nervousness transferred to me almost immediately, along with his shaking. I clambered to his shoulder, caressing his cheek with mine and nuzzling his chin. "Raichurai¼" I reassured, "Raiiichu chuu raii."
Ash sniffed and lifted his head a bit. The tears had not yet fallen, but were clinging in his eyes, revealing a new depth and luster to their pure, liquid brown. "You're right, Pikachu¼ We need to just be happy we're still together," he sniffed, turning to Misty and Brock, who were seated in the chairs near the door of the examination room. "So guys¼okay if we head out now?"
Misty nodded loyally and came over to scratch my ears consolingly, and Brock gave a smile that said yes by itself. "I'd love to drop by and see my family again," he said, "If it's okay with you two, that is."
Ash and Misty acknowledged approval with small utters of consent, as Misty distractedly huddled up to Ash's arm, murmuring something I never really caught. Some sort of consolation, I supposed. Ash gave her a bemused stare, Misty's face lit up with a tiny blush across the bridge of her nose, and there was a moment of cushioned silence. My eyes met with Brock's, and we both expressed confusion without saying a word. Brock rolled his eyes with a laughing smile. Judging by that gesture, I assumed that he had somehow comprehended more of the little situation than I had. That bothered me a little, for some reason.
Anyway, the next thing I knew we were bouncing out the door, on our way to Pewter City.
::=*=::
Pewter City is huddled right at the western base of Mount Moon. It is a minuscule town; dwarfed further by the towering immensity of Mount Moon, and there's maybe one hundred people living within the town limit, tops.
Hopping along the rocks contouring the path into the city, humming a song I had heard once on Ash's radio, I felt a surge of happy déjà vu.
It had been a long, long time since we had been there. In fact, we had still been in the first few months of our journey, so there were all sorts of interesting memories to associate with the place. This was magnified since it appeared that the quaint, wooden buildings that mostly made up Pewter hadn't changed in the slightest since the last time we had been there, over five years ago.
Ash fished a piece of ragged paper from his backpack, occasionally glancing at it for assurance as his eyes swiveled back and forth, scanning for the Pewter City Museum.
A brief walk north of Brock's gym, there was a stony chunk of a building. Although we later found out that it is indeed two stories, it looked about as squat as a young Lotad at first, with a level, slender, mahogany roof and a couple of timid windows peeking out at us like a pair of midnight eyes. A gaping sign loomed above a thin, spidery doorway. I presume this sign read 'Pewter City Museum' or something to that effect, because at that moment, Ash looked down at me, his eyes composed, brown pools, and murmured, "Well, Pikachu¼there it is. Ready to try to find some clues to this mystery?"
"Raii-chu," I agreed solemnly, stretching out my arms towards him as indication that I wanted to be held. He scooped me up and clutched me to his chest, and continued towards the building. Misty and Brock were silent behind us.
Up the cement walkway and into the building through the lean door we traversed, a sort of overdone drama echoing off our footsteps. By the time we were striding through the door, I had scrambled up to Ash's shoulder and balanced myself there.
It was a little surprising to me to find that the inside of the museum was nearly as quiet as the outside of it, and that it was actually quite roomy, despite its squashed outward appearance. A rather bored-looking lady behind a ticket counter near the door claimed our attention by demanding an admission fee, which Ash begrudgingly paid with some spare PokéYen from his pocket. She handed each person in our party a map of the museum, and then proceeded to pin me with an icy stare. "I'm sorry, sir, but I must insist you put your Raichu into its pokéball. Free-roaming pokémon aren't allowed on these facilities."
Ash scowled. "My Raichu doesn't like pokéballs, and I can't leave him outside alone."—Ash turned and mouthed 'Team Rocket' to me and I nodded—"Also, we're trying to find something out, and we need him to help us. He'll be good, I promise," Ash declared sincerely, and then added for good measure, "Right, buddy?"
"~Yep!~" I bobbed my head in consent, flashing the lady as angelic a smile as I could conjure.
She still didn't seem very pleased about it, but she caved in. "Okay, if you insist. But if he gets himself into trouble, I'll have to call the management. And trust me, they can be pretty nasty." She reprimanded me with her chilly gray eyes, and I shrunk behind Ash's head, dropping my ears.
"Oh, he won't do anything, don't worry," Ash assured, scratching me behind the ears. "Pikachu and I are buddies."
She shooed us off with a flick of her hand, and the four of us diffused into a lobby that had four hallways branching off of it, plus two stairwells. Ash stood in the middle of the lobby for a few minutes, studying the map, but apparently he couldn't make up his mind where to go, and decided to ask Misty and Brock where they thought we should head first. Actually, he asked me, too, but seeing as I can't read, I didn't know the options, so I just shrugged.
It was finally settled that the best place to look would probably be the 'Ancient Pokémon' display up the first flight of stairs, seeing as it covered a wide range of subjects, and seemed more likely to hold the clue to a natural secret, as opposed to a man-made one.
Occasional people passed us by, sometimes clumped around a boisterous tour guide, and other times on their lonesome, until finally we scaled the staircase and reached an airy, high-ceilinged room that was filled with all sorts of curious sights and smells.
The spindly gray of an Aerodactyl skeleton loomed above us, suspended from the ceiling, its gaping jaws crammed with inch-long teeth; there was a display of casts of Kabuto fossils, and some indigo plates off an Armaldo. There was even a live Relicanth gliding along in the waters of its spacious tank in the corner.
Ash suppressed his interest to get down to business. Turning, respectively, to Misty and Brock, he said, "Well guys, we have quite a bit of ground to cover. What do you say we all split up and meet back here in fifteen minutes?"
"Sounds good to me," Misty agreed distractedly. She was staring off in a corner, obviously intrigued by something.
"Okay," Brock stated.
As Ash and Brock got in a short discussion about what exactly to look for, I watched Misty break off from the group and stride over to that corner, inspecting a little, rectangular, framed painting that was exhibited obscurely there.
Her eyes widened, and she peeked back at us over her shoulder, calling, "H-Hey guys¼ I think I might have found something¼" There was a startling sense of dread in her voice, and my heart pumped fiercely in my chest.
Ash and Brock trotted to her side, as I hitchhiked on Ash's shoulder.
When I got a glimpse at the picture on the wall, semi-dusty and small as it was, I could feel my insides shudder and shrivel with undeniable recognition. Actually, it was more than recognition¼it was as if¼as if, somehow, a piece of myself was projecting on to the picture. Strange scenes flickered and flared past my eyes, dancing fireworks of memory, reaching dizzying heights of fear. There was something romping through damp ferns in my mind¼a tremble of lightning in the sky¼claws sinking in mud¼but the mud was made out of something other than water¼
I closed my eyes and shook away the visions as best I could, just as Ash began to read the caption underneath the painting.
"Arashichu," He muttered, in complete shock. "Arashichu."
::=*=::
Author's Notes: Could you please drop me a review? Just to show you haven't forgotten me? (I always worry about being forgotten by all my readers¼) Please? Oh, and is anyone else totally hyped about Pokémon 5? I know I am! Yayyy! Anyway, I'll try to get the next chapter done soon (it definitely won't take as long as this one¼), and until then, take care!