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Vines of Deceit	By : Manifest Destiny Category: Pokemon > General Views: 14165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. Pokemon is copy write by GameFreak, INC. and Nintendo. I make no money from this story, nor do I seek any.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
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Chapter 18: Roadblocks
—————
Tristan stopped walking and turned around, even though he had been fighting hard not to. He looked to see if he could spot Bianca anywhere behind him. From where he stood, Tristan could barely make out where the Rendez-View Ferris wheel would let off its riders, straining to see through the shifting crowds of people that walked along the Neon Pier. After a few long moments of staring down the walkway, he still couldn’t see any sign of his friend.
When he decided that he had waited long enough, Tristan gave up, shaking his head and turning back to walk further down the pier. Tristan had been worried that if he turned around, he would have seen Bianca still standing where he had left her, either watching him leave or crying to herself.
She’ll be fine, he told himself. She’s not that weak.
Tristan marched down the pier, turning far fewer heads his way than when he had come down it while riding on Cole’s back. Unless he was actively drawing attention to himself, Tristan guessed that he looked like anyone else at the amusement park.
N can have the spotlight for now. This’ll make it easier to move around.
As he continued to walk, Tristan began feeling an unfamiliar sense of anxiety well up within him. He felt as if he were being pulled—a faint tugging on his very essence—urging him onward toward somewhere he couldn’t see. Each second that passed by, the pull became just a little bit stronger.
He couldn’t quite figure out why, but something told him that this strange sensation wasn’t coming from any fear of danger.
Tristan knew he wasn’t worried about Draya; she had proven that she could take care of herself back in Castelia City when Tristan needed to speak with Burgh. He also didn’t feel as if his own wellbeing was being threatened, since Tristan doubted that Team Plasma would make any sort of scene in such a crowded area in broad daylight. That meant Bianca’s safety was not in question either.
It doesn’t feel like I’m running away from anything, but…
The only thing Tristan knew for sure was that he wanted to leave the Neon Pier and Nimbasa City as soon as he could. However, despite the strange pull that tugged at him, he knew he couldn’t leave just yet.
Tristan sighed, looking through the crowds of people around him.
“Where’d she go?” he asked himself.
He had expected that Draya would simply hang around the exit ramp of the Ferris wheel and wait for his return, but she had yet to show herself to him. She didn’t give any sort of hint as to where she might’ve gone while he and Bianca were on their private ride, nor how she might have disguised herself in the meantime. Tristan kept scanning the area for a Serperior’s leafy tail as he walked down the pier, but couldn’t catch any sight of her.
Who knows if she even still looks like that…
He moved to the side of the main walkway to avoid being in anyone’s way, leaning against a lamppost. Tristan decided he would just have to keep an eye out for anything—or anyone—that might remind him of Draya.
He wouldn’t leave without her, no matter how strong that strange force pulled at him, but the longer he had to wait for her, Tristan knew that it would only get worse.
It’s like I’m being drawn toward something… Tristan thought.
Now that he wasn’t worrying about Bianca or moving through crowds of people and looking for Draya, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the curious new sensation. The pull would come and go, as if it didn’t have the strength to hold onto him for very long, but it would keep coming back and try its best to coax him to follow its direction. As he concentrated on it, Tristan realized there was a sense of urgency in whatever was pulling him. Following its guidance was something that he must do, and as far as it was concerned, as soon as possible. The longer he waited, the more impatient it became.
As the draw grew in strength, it began to remind Tristan of something.
He had felt something like it just the night before; a sensation that had urged him to take action above all else.
It wasn’t when he faced down that Volcarona while he hung in the air with Eonos on his back.
It wasn’t when he had stood up to Team Plasma’s King on national television.
It was when he was face to face with Reshiram.
Whenever he was in the presence of the Vast White dragon, Tristan felt compelled to run away; to put as much distance between him and the living Truth as possible. Even just her gaze was enough to flood Tristan’s mind with fear.
Then this must be—
He felt a finger tap his shoulder twice, snapping his attention back to the world around him.
“Hey, what’s the matter?”
“It’s— Oh.” Tristan blinked, not expecting to see who had just walked up and spoke to him.
“Hi!” Bianca smiled and gave him a small wave of her hand. “Surprised to see me?”
“Yeah, kinda.” said Tristan. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk for a while after… you know.”
“Well…” Bianca looked down, gripping the strap of her purse. “I was walking back down the pier and I saw you over here all by yourself. You looked like you were upset about something. Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I was just thinking about everything that happened last night,” he told his friend. “This was the first chance I’ve really had to just stop and think, you know?”
“Why are you waiting around here?” asked Bianca. “Don’t you have to go and… you know…?”
“I was looking around for Draya, but I couldn’t find her. I figured I’d wait until she came back.”
Bianca giggled, “Want me to help look for her?”
“You don’t have to,” Tristan shook his head. “I’m sure she’ll come back in a little bit.”
“Oh come on!” Bianca reached down and grabbed his hand, pulling him back towards the main walkway of the pier. “We’ll find her in no time if we look hard enough!”
“Hang on!” Tristan protested. He caught up and matched Bianca’s pace, still being led by the hand, “We should just wait for her to come to us. Draya won’t let us find her if she doesn’t want to be found.”
“Oh yeah,” Bianca slowed down and looked over at him. “She ran away once, didn’t she?”
Tristan nodded, remembering that night he ran through Pinwheel Forest looking for a Zorua.
“Yep. I had to wait for her to show herself, and then—”
Wait.
Tristan stopped in his tracks, making sure to keep a grip on Bianca’s hand.
“Whoa!” The girl staggered a bit and regained her balance. Bianca looked back at him, confused.
“What’s up?”
“I think I know where Draya went,” said Tristan. “Come on.”
Just like she had done to him, Tristan dragged Bianca through the crowds of the Neon Pier, weaving their way in and out of the paths of other people. He guided her back down the pier and behind a row of stalls. Tristan stopped and looked around, making sure nobody else could see the two of them before he finally let go of Bianca’s hand.
“You really think she’s back here?” she asked him. “There’s nothing back here.”
“Take that off,” he told her, crossing his arms impatiently.
Bianca’s eyes widened.
“Wh-What?”
Tristan pointed up and down at Bianca, “All of that, take it off.”
“I-I… If that’s what you want…” Bianca looked down at her feet and grabbed the edge of her blouse, slowly lifting it up and exposing her bare chest.
“No.”
Tristan moved forward and put his hands on hers, stopping her from revealing anything else.
Bianca looked up in surprise and confusion, not sure what she had done wrong.
“Not the clothes, the disguise…”
Disappointment spread across the girl’s face in an instant. Bianca slumped her posture and let her shirt fall back down.
“Aww, what gave me away?”
“I never told anyone that you ran away after our battle in Nacrene,” Tristan explained. “I didn’t want anyone to start asking why, or else they might figure out you were never a Snivy.”
Draya shook her head, casting off the illusion of Bianca’s face, revealing her own. A Zoroark’s head and mane of red fur now rested on a human girl’s shoulders with the rest of the body remaining unchanged.
“I always knew you cared,” she said.
“You know I do,” Tristan told her. “Now come on, change into something else so we can get going.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to see the rest of it?” Draya asked, pulling the fake shirt up further than she had before.
Tristan sighed and rolled his eyes, “No thanks.”
“Not in the mood for a little teasing?” Draya asked, leaning forward. The clothes on her illusory human body evaporated, leaving nothing concealed anymore. “Then how about everything all at once?”
“Don’t do that!” Tristan held his hands up in front of his face and spun around, looking anywhere but at what was behind him. He looked down and saw a pair of bare human arms wrap themselves around his body. He could feel Draya press her false chest into his back.
“Come on, I bet you’ve always wanted to look…” Draya’s voice changed back into a mimicry of Bianca’s. “Now you can.”
“Draya, please! Stop!”
“Hey…” he heard Draya say, using her own voice once again. “You know I’m just messing around, don’t you? You’re supposed to go along with it…”
Tristan could see the fake arms around his torso shimmer and change into ones with claws and covered in dark fur. He sighed in relief and turned around in his Zoroark’s arms, glad to see a look of genuine concern and worry on her face.
“What’d I do?” she asked. “You haven’t had problems with my illusions before.”
“It’s not that, it’s about the subject matter,” he explained. “I might’ve played along a bit more if you’d picked anyone else to change into, but you used one of my best friends.”
“I thought you didn’t like her that way,” said Draya.
“I don’t, but even if I did, I wouldn’t want you to ‘dress up’ as her behind her back. If she knew what you really are, I know she wouldn’t want you using her body to tease me like that either. Do you get what I mean?”
Draya frowned and shook her head. She looked away from him, “You’re not… really that upset at me because of this, are you?” she asked.
Tristan opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped himself.
He took a deep breath and looked at the person—at the creature—that was standing in front of him. No matter how she might make herself look, how she might talk, or how she might act, Draya wasn’t a human girl. She was a Pokémon. A Zoroark. Tristan couldn’t handle her the same way that he might have dealt with Bianca or anyone else.
He felt a sudden wave of shame and disappointment in himself. Despite how he might feel about him now, Tristan had promised N that he would respect who and what Draya actually was.
N doesn’t think Draya and I belong together. He thinks I’ll mistreat her.
When she didn’t get an answer immediately, Draya let her arms fall from Tristan’s sides and began to pull away from him, but he reached forward and held her with his own arms.
“Don’t,” he pleaded with her. Tristan leaned in close and spoke softly to her, “I’m not mad at you. I promise.”
“You could’ve fooled me,” she said. Draya looked him in the eye, “Takes a lot to do that.”
“Look, I know I shouldn’t have reacted… that harshly. I’m sorry.” Tristan tried to give an apologetic smile. “I know you didn’t really mean to upset me with that illusion.”
“Did you really figure that out, or are you just saying that because my ‘sad and sorry’ act made you feel sorry for me?” she asked, showing off her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Are you… Are you messing with me again?” Tristan asked, truly unsure.
“A little,” the Zoroark admitted, chuckling lightly. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I just have to make sure sometimes,” Tristan said, letting himself relax. He let go of his Zoroark and reached up with a hand and stroked her mane of red and black fur. “But I know you didn’t mean it because you had to ask if I was actually angry at you. You thought messing around with me like that was fine, right?”
Draya nodded.
“See? Besides, you dropped it once you saw it was really getting to me. If you really wanted to torment me you’d have kept going.”
“So, you were upset?” she asked, worry creeping back across her face.
“I mean… yes, but that’s my fault for taking it so seriously. I should know that your illusions aren’t the real thing, but when you used Bianca’s face—and her body—it just got to me.”
“I’m sorry,” Draya apologized, this time in earnest. “I was just…”
Draya closed her eyes and leaned forward, grabbing onto Tristan’s shoulders and pressing her head into his chest.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Tristan said, consoling her. “I said I wasn’t mad at you, remember?”
She shook her head, “This is just like last time.”
“What is?” Tristan asked.
“I don’t think I ever talked about it, but before we met… I didn’t care about who I tricked or lied to. I was just doing what I had to do to survive, or what I thought was funny. I just did what came naturally. I never felt bad about who I was or what I did… Not once.”
Draya stood up straight and raised her head, looking Tristan in the eyes.
“Then I met you.”
“When did I make you feel bad?” Tristan asked, thinking back on his time with Draya as quickly as he could. “Is this about what happened in Nacrene?”
“No,” Draya shook her head. “It was before that. And it wasn’t you, it was me. You didn’t even do anything wrong. You were… almost perfect. I never had one before, but I thought you were a good trainer. You cared for me and you were accepting of me no matter what… But that ‘me’, that ‘Snivy’, didn’t even exist. You were wasting your time and energy on someone who had been leading you on.”
“Come on, you know that’s not true,” Tristan told her.
“Now I do, but how could I have known how you would react back then? That’s how I felt; I wanted to tell you the truth because lying to you made me feel guilty, but I was afraid of what you might do when you found out. It tore me up inside.” Draya placed a clawed hand on the side of Tristan’s face. “The nice boy that I’d grown so attached to cared so much about a Snivy that wasn’t real, and I just couldn’t bring myself to give him the bad news.”
“…and you never got the chance to tell me on your own, did you?” Tristan asked.
“I wanted to! I really did want to, but I don’t know if I would have ever been able to tell you myself,” Draya admitted. She dragged her hand down from Tristan’s face, along his neck, and stopped at his chest. “I knew that the longer I waited to tell you, the worse it would be, but I still couldn’t do it.”
“Then,” Tristan started, thinking over his words carefully. He reached up and grabbed the hand Draya had placed on his chest.
“Then I’m glad our gym battle happened the way it did,” he told her.
“You’re glad that I got smacked around and exposed in front of people?” Draya asked, glaring at him curiously.
“Not that part, no, but if things had gone any different, we might not be where we are now, would we?”
“Besides,” Tristan continued, “when have you been anything but completely honest with me since I saw your true self? If you’ve been holding back since then, I’m not sure I’m cut out to handle you.”
“Of course you’re not,” Draya said, looking away from him dismissively. “But I guess I can make some compromises here and there if it’s for you.”
Dropping the defensive act, the Zoroark looked back at Tristan, turning her hand in Tristan’s grasp and squeezing it.
“So… where are we now?” she asked.
“We’re… trying?” Tristan suggested. “I don’t think either of us really know what we’re doing, so we’re just doing what we think is right. Back in Castelia, Burgh told me that I should give us a real chance; to really give us a try. I think if we’re serious about each other, then that means we are going to have to deal with the bad as well as the good, you know?”
“I am serious,” Draya said. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” he assured her. “You’re special to me, remember?”
The Zoroark grinned and pulled Tristan closer toward her, nuzzling the side of his face.
“You’ve already used that line,” Draya whispered into his ear, playfully scolding him. She leaned back and looked him in the face. “Don’t you think you should move onto something else? I think you said one last night that sounded pretty nice…”
“Right,” Tristan said. Still holding onto Draya’s hand with his right, he brought his left hand up to her face and closed his eyes, pulling her closer and bringing his lips against hers.
He felt her caress the side of his face like he was doing to hers, the two of them mirroring each other’s actions while they shared in the gentle kiss. Tristan pulled away just enough to speak, hoping to put as much weight into his words as he could.
“I love you, Draya. No matter what.”
“That’s more like it.”
“So,” he said cautiously, “can we have some kind of ‘list’ of people you shouldn’t disguise yourself as unless absolutely necessary?”
Draya sighed, rolling her eyes.
“I guess we should,” she relented. “Go ahead, let’s hear them.”
“Well,” Tristan thought for a moment. “Let’s just keep it at my parents and my close friends for now. Especially Bianca.”
“Are you sure you don’t have a thing for her, Tristan?” Draya asked. “I better not catch you asking me to change back into her later when we’re alone.”
“Trust me, I won’t,” Tristan shook his head, trying to rid himself of the brief glimpse he had seen of Draya’s illusion.
“I’m not sure I even want to know, but when would you have even seen her naked?” he asked.
“Oh I haven’t, anything under the clothes were all just guesses.” Draya grinned and poked Tristan in the cheek. “Why? Was I close?”
“I wouldn’t know!”
—————
As much as Tristan wanted, and felt compelled, to leave Nimbasa City as soon as possible, there was at least one thing he knew he’d needed to take care of before he made his way toward Driftveil City.
He had left all of his belongings back in Castelia City.
Since Tristan had no way of knowing that he would get wrapped up in the all of the chaos involving the Volcarona of Relic Castle and the revival of Reshiram, it never crossed his mind to bring all of his traveling gear and supplies with him into the desert. Even if he had, Tristan guessed he would have abandoned most if not all of it in the castle either while he and N were on the run from the Volcarona, or when the two of them made their hasty escape on the back of the Dragon of Truth.
Thankfully, there was a solution to his problem.
Better to leave my stuff in a hotel room than some sandy ruins, Tristan had thought.
The hotel he had stayed in was a part of one of the Pokémon Centers in Castelia City, which meant that Tristan was able to have them ship any of his belongings that he might have forgotten and have them delivered to a another Pokémon Center. Due to just how much he had left there, Tristan ended up having to pay a fee he wished he didn’t have to, but it ended up being much less expensive than having to buy everything again.
He’d decided to have his items shipped to Driftveil City, which would end up taking a few days, but at least Tristan would be able to kill some of that time by traveling there himself.
Tristan thanked the employees at the Nimbasa Pokémon Center for their help and turned to leave, but the sudden wave of vibrations coming from his wrist stopped him in his tracks. He looked down at the XTransceiver on his arm, which had begun to ring from an incoming call.
[Dad]
“Crap. I still haven’t talked to them yet…”
Guilt washed over Tristan for keeping his parents in the dark about what had happened to him for so long.
He had left Draya sitting and waiting for him on a bench in the lobby of the Center, who noticed his troubled expression as he made his way over to her. She had disguised herself as she usually did and had taken the form of a Serperior, her long body coiled up and taking up nearly an entire bench for herself.
Draya raised her head and shifted her illusory body to leave room enough for Tristan to sit next to her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly when he approached.
“It’s my parents,” he explained, pointing at his wrist. In a hushed voice, he asked, “Can you give us some privacy? Just enough that no one will interrupt us?”
“Sure.”
A wave of purple light scattered out from where Draya sat, marking a perimeter around the bench and a few feet beside it. The noise of the various people and Pokémon in the lobby instantly disappeared from where Tristan stood. As he looked around at the silent Pokémon Center, he found himself surprised at how potent and effective Draya’s illusory abilities were, despite how many times he’d seen them in action.
A Zoroark can do some incredible things…
Tristan sat down on the bench beside his fake Serperior and called his father back on his XTransceiver. It only rang one and a half times.
[“Tristan!”]
Just one word blasted through the small speakers of the device strapped to his wrist, but it hit Tristan like a fist to the chest. It made him feel remarkably small. He hadn’t heard that tone of voice come from his father since he was a small child; like he was being spoken down at after making some mistake or causing trouble.
[“Where have you been?!”] his father demanded. His worry for his son was plain to see. Jeff Blake’s face took up most of the video call’s screen—He must be leaning down toward the camera, Tristan thought—and from what little of the background Tristan could make out, he wasn’t at home.
“I’ve just—”
[“Save it. I’m calling your mother.”]
Just as he said, the video call on Tristan’s XTransceiver split vertically and a third party connected a few moments later.
[“Tristan? Tristan! Are you alright?”]
Far from the heavy and scolding tone of his father, his mother’s voice was frantic and high. Diane Blake sounded incredibly afraid, but desperately hoping that her fears would soon be erased.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said to her.
[“Tristan, I mean it! Are you alright?]
“I promise! I’m okay! Really,” Tristan pleaded, wearing an exhausted smile. He had been expecting to answer that kind of question from his parents after the events of the ruined Master Bowl, but it still felt like nothing he could say would be enough to clear away their worries.
[“Are you absolutely sure?”] his mother’s voice rang out from the XTransceiver’s speaker, concern for her son clinging to her words. It was easy to see even on her half of the small digital screen that her eyes and nose were red and puffy.
I hope she hasn’t been crying this whole time, Tristan thought, regretting taking so long to get back to his parents.
[“Your father and I couldn’t believe what we were seeing on the TV last night when that huge Pokémon attacked the Master Bowl and when the cameras focused on you, we just—”]
His mother choked on her words as she tried to recount her awful night watching television.
[“We were scared,”] his father spoke up. [“We’ve been worried sick ever since last night! There was nothing we could do but sit at home while we watched you and those trainers try and fight that thing. And you wait this long to get in touch with us? Didn’t you see how many times we tried to get ahold of you?”]
“I know, I know! I’m really sorry!” he apologized as best he could, trying his best not to draw attention to the bench he was sitting on. “I just haven’t had any time since—”
[“You make time for your mother and I, do you understand me?!”] his father yelled.
“…Sorry. I will.”
Tristan looked down at his mother’s side of the video call, noticing that there was another person beside her.
“Who’s there with you, Mom?” he asked.
[“Oops, sorry.] Professor Aurea Juniper leaned into the frame and gave a small wave. [“Since your Dad was at work, I came over to make sure your Mom was doing alright, but I didn’t mean to intrude.”]
[“Not at all, Aurea. Thank you for keeping her company,”] his father spoke up. [“Now, Tristan; why don’t you explain why it took you this long to let your parents know you were safe.”]
[“And what were you doing on TV last night? Why were you there fighting that Pokémon?!”] asked Diane.
[“And what is that next to you Tristan?”] asked Professor Juniper, who had joined the call on her own XTransceiver now. [“That can’t be your little Draya, can it?”]
Tristan sighed at the barrage of questions he’d just been assaulted with. He glanced over at the “Serperior” to his left for help, who slithered her head into view of the camera on Tristan’s wrist.
She looked down at the small images of human faces on the illuminated screen and waved with her leafy tail.
[“What are you feeding her? To evolve into a Serperior so quickly, you must be—”]
[“Aurea.”] Another single word from his father.
[“Oop. Sorry.”]
Taking things one at a time, Tristan began the lengthy process of explaining to his parents exactly what he’d been up to since he’d left Nuvema Town. From his run-ins with Team Plasma, and how he and his friends had done all they can to stop their efforts wherever they could, to how he’d met the strange and compassionate Pokémon Trainer, N.
“He was always a bit weird, but I didn’t think he was involved with Team Plasma until… last night,” he explained.
[“Is it true what he said? You helped Team Plasma’s King awaken Reshiram?”] asked the professor.
“I didn’t think he was Team Plasma’s anything!” Tristan yelled. “I thought he was my friend!”
[“Hey! Don’t raise your voice like that.”] his father warned.
“I’m sorry…” Tristan apologized. “This whole thing just sucks.”
[“What about today? What kept you from letting us know you were alright?”] asked his mother.
“When I woke up this morning,” Tristan said, “I know I should’ve called you guys, but Bianca called me from the Nimbasa Gym. Her dad showed up.”
[“Oh lord,”] the professor said quietly.
[“I can’t say I’m surprised. The two of them are probably on their way back here now,”] his father guessed.
“Actually, no. Bianca and I convinced him to let her continue being a trainer.”
[“…You talked Richard down?”] his father asked in disbelief.
“Not ‘talked’, no. Bianca and I beat him in a Pokémon battle. Gym Leader Elesa was on his team, and—”
[“Not my point! I mean, you— you two kids changed his mind?”]
“Yeah. I didn’t think it was possible either.”
[…]
[…]
[…]
Silence was all that came from both of his parents and the professor.
[“Tristan?”] his mother asked.
“Yeah, Mom?”
[“If your father and I told you to come home… right now. Today. Would you do it?”]
Tristan sat still and felt a jolt run through his body.
He knew he would always stand against and fight Bianca’s father and his short-sighted mind and his short temper. He had to, for Bianca’s sake.
But his own parents? Could he defy their wishes for their son’s safety?
[“Tristan. Your mother asked you a question.”] his father’s voice shifted back into its stern tone.
“…No,” he told them. “I can’t just go home when Team Plasma and N are out there trying to change the way the world for the worse.”
[“…But why does it have to be my son that has to fight?”] his mother asked.
“It’s not just me, Mom. I’ve got Cheren, Bianca, this girl Iris, even a few Gym Leaders have helped us. I’ve also got my Pokémon; they’re why I’m fighting. I don’t want to lose them.”
[“These dragons…”] the professor spoke up, [“Reshiram and Zekrom. No one living had seen either of them alive before yesterday. What makes you so certain you’re cut out to handle one, let alone fight the other?”]
“Because I can feel it,” Tristan said, putting a hand on his chest. “I can feel Zekrom out there somewhere, just waiting for me to find him. He’s getting impatient.”
[“…please. Just come home… please!”] his mother tried and failed to hold back her tears. [“Let someone else fight! I can’t sit here at home and do nothing and have to watch my little boy throw himself into danger like that! I can’t do it again!”]
Tristan winced as he listened to his mother cry, glancing at the images of the professor and his father on the other sections of the screen. They both looked like they wanted to say anything, but didn’t want to step between a mother’s desire to protect her son.
“I have to do it. It can’t be anybody but me.”
[“Tristan.”]
One word from his father again.
“Yeah?”
Jeff Blake gave a short nod at the camera, staring through the camera and into his son’s eyes.
[“You’re not allowed to lose to their King. Don’t give your mother any more reasons to cry. Is that clear?”]
“Absolutely.”
[“Then go kick their asses. We’re rooting for you. Always.”]
—————
When he and Draya had finally made their way to the northwestern exit of Nimbasa City, Tristan hadn’t thought anything of the large crowd of people that had gathered around and inside of the gatehouse that led to Route 5. He hadn’t ever been to the western side of Unova, especially not while traveling on foot as a trainer, and simply assumed that sort of traffic was normal for one of the most active cities in the region.
It wasn’t until an attendant working at the gatehouse did their best to grab Tristan’s attention that he began to worry.
“Excuse me, sir? You, with the Serperior?”
Tristan stopped once he heard their voice. He and Draya had barely made it inside the building before they were approached. The worker waved at Tristan and made their way over to him, carefully moving through a few groups of people standing around the crowded building.
“Is something wrong?” Tristan asked.
Draya brought her fake, serpentine body up straight and stared down at the gatehouse guard that was now blocking their way.
“If you plan on waiting here in the gatehouse, we ask that you please put your Pokémon back in their Poké Ball. We just don’t have the space for everyone and their large Pokémon,” they told him.
“I’m just passing through,” explained Tristan. “Why are there so many people in here today, anyway?”
“Oh, I assumed you already knew. The Driftveil Drawbridge is currently closed due to an emergency safety check.”
“Safety check?” Tristan repeated. “Did something happen?”
“Thankfully, no, nothing yet. From what I’ve been told, the Driftveil City police received an anonymous warning concerning the bridge’s safety. Since we don’t know exactly what the potential danger, it was decided to close the bridge entirely while they check for any damages,” the worker then lowered their voice to finish their thought, “…or threats.”
“What, do they think someone might destroy the bridge somehow?” Tristan asked, also keeping his voice low.
“Either way, they have to take that into consideration. Right now, there are teams at either end of the bridge conducting thorough investigations to make sure nothing is wrong. With everything that happened last night, tensions are already high enough as it is.”
“Do you have any idea when the bridge will reopen?” Tristan asked, hoping for any sort of good news.
“We don’t know anything for sure yet, unfortunately,” said the attendant. “There’s no telling how long it will end up taking to check and make sure that everything is safe. It could be a few more hours or sometime in the next few days.”
Tristan felt the heavy weight of disappointment press down on him.
“I’m sorry, but it’s important to take these kinds of threats seriously.”
“…No, I get it.” Tristan sighed, annoyed that yet another delay had sprung up in front of him. “Are we able to go on to Route 5 at all?”
“To some extent, yes. They’ve got the immediate area surrounding either end of the bridge blocked off as a further safety measure, but most of Route 5 should still be safe to traverse.”
“Alright, thank you for letting me know. Is it alright if we pass on through now?”
The gatehouse attendant nodded and stepped aside, offering their hopes that Tristan and his Pokémon avoid any trouble along the route.
As the two of them made their way through the crowded building, avoiding people as best as possible, Draya whispered into Tristan’s ear.
“Do you think it was Team Plasma?” she asked.
“Can’t think of anyone else,” Tristan responded.
Once outside, Tristan saw even more people waiting around; stranded and delayed until the bridge was deemed safe to travel. There were tents put up along both sides of the road, making the area look more like a dedicated campground rather than a busy thoroughfare. While most vehicles were parked and waiting for the bridge to reopen, a line of food trucks were open for business, likely taking advantage of the large gathering of people.
Tristan and Draya continued down the road until the crowds thinned and a police blockade stopped their progress. From where they stood, they could see the raised drawbridge, its bright red metal reaching high into the sky.
Standing there in the sun, with their progress so clearly impeded with no end in sight, Tristan couldn’t help but feel anxious. He closed his eyes, feeling that strange pull begin to grow impatient once again.
“This sucks,” he said, dragging his hand down his face. “We can’t keep getting held up like this when Team Plasma and N are out there doing who knows what. We need to keep going.”
Draya slithered her fake body up her human’s back and over his shoulder, bringing her face close to his.
“This doesn’t have to be all bad,” she said. “Since we have some free time, you and I could always…”
Draya’s attention drifted somewhere behind him, her eyes widening in surprise. She managed to point with her Serperior’s leafy tail before a loud voice rang out through the still air on the road.
“Tristan!”
Hearing his name called out so suddenly made him jump, his body tensing up for a moment before Tristan put a face to the voice he recognized. Turning around, Tristan saw Cheren walking toward him.
Cheren came to a stop a few feet in front of Tristan and Draya. His annoyed and angry scowl spread across his face was plain for anyone to see.
“There you are,” he said, as if accusing him of some wrongdoing.
“Good to see you too,” Tristan said back, crossing his arms. “What’s with the—?”
“You need to come with me. Now.” Cheren spoke to him with cold, stern words. He turned around and started walking back down the road before Tristan could even respond.
“H-Hey!” Tristan called out, but his friend continued walking.
“Dammit…” he said under his breath. “Come on, I guess.”
Draya simply nodded and followed along, not wanting to speak now that they were heading back toward where the people had gathered once again.
The two caught up to Cheren just as he took a turn off of the paved road and into the grass just before the entrance to the gatehouse. The group walked through the trees and underbrush of Route 5 in an uncomfortable silence until they emerged into an open clearing with a clear view of the sky. The murmurs and noise of the crowds waiting along the road could no longer be heard.
Tristan stopped walking and looked around at the unremarkable plot of land, seeing nothing of obvious interest.
Why’d he lead us so far away from the crowd…?
“What’s all this about?” asked Tristan.
Cheren continued walking until he reached the other side of the small clearing. He turned around and faced Tristan and Draya, staring intently in their direction.
“You and I are going to battle,” Cheren declared. He reached behind his back with his left arm and held up a Poké Ball. “This place will be our arena.”
“Whoa, what? Battle?” asked Tristan. “Why would we do that?”
“Oh I think you’ll figure out why really quickly.”
Cheren tossed the ball into the air, releasing its occupant onto the grass.
A long, green and yellow serpent rose up from the grass, staring across the small field at Tristan and Draya. Its red eyes glaring at what it thought was another member of its species, the Serperior slithered away from its trainer toward the center of the small grassy clearing.
Both the Regal Pokémon and its trainer waited patiently for Tristan to send out the obvious choice for an opponent.
“Wh— Uh…” Tristan stood still, not wanting to even glance at Draya for fear of giving her secret away. He had to assume that she was as surprised as he was.
“What’s the matter, Tristan?” Cheren asked. “Let’s find out which of our Pokémon is the better fighter. Isn’t that what trainers do?”
He knows. He has to know. Why else would he pick that?
“Hey, where’d you get a Serperior?” Tristan asked his friend. “Professor Juniper couldn’t even get a Snivy for me when we were just starting out.”
“After I left Castelia City, I decided to put my gym challenge on hold and focus on training my Pokémon. I figured there were more important things to worry about after seeing what Team Plasma was really capable of. I had decided to go to Black City, which had more than enough trainers of comparable skill to myself to practice and learn from. After my second week in the city, a nice girl named Libby offered me a trade that really caught my interest.”
“Why’s that?” Tristan asked.
“I’d never seen what a real Serperior could do, after all.” Cheren pointed at Draya’s disguise. “She’s a fake! Either your Snivy was replaced when you weren’t paying attention, or you’ve been tricked since the very beginning!”
Deny it. Prove him wrong. Fight back!
Tristan’s mind was in a panic, trying to think of anything he could do against Cheren’s accusations. He didn’t want Draya’s secret to be exposed because of his own failure to protect it.
“I said so, didn’t I? I noticed that something was wrong way back in our Striaton Gym battle and our fight against Team Plasma in Wellspring Cave. She never used any kind of grass type technique! She never could!”
Unable to hold himself back anymore, Tristan looked to his left at Draya, hoping to find some sort of answer for what he should do.
Her Serperior form hadn’t moved since they arrived in the secluded patch of grass. Draya’s serpentine body stood up tall and stared down the genuine article ahead of her, matching its intense gaze.
Tristan wondered what she could be thinking. No one had ever really questioned the strange circumstances surrounding Draya very much, certainly not as much as Cheren had been. To be flat-out accused of being a fake so openly hadn’t happened before, at least not while she had been with Tristan.
Come on, do something. Say something. Help her!
“I don’t know what that is,” Cheren continued, “but it’s no Serperior.”
Tristan grit his teeth, taking one last glance at Draya, and took a step forward.
“Who cares?!” he yelled, earning him a confused blink from his friend.
“Remember what I told you that day?” Tristan asked his friend. “So what if she isn’t a Serperior? She’s still my Pokémon, no matter what. I won’t get rid of her.”
“This isn’t about having a well-balanced team to battle with anymore, Tristan!” This time it was Cheren who stepped forward in defiance of his friend. “It’s about trust! How can you trust a Pokémon who won’t show their own face?”
“We’ve been through more than enough to trust each other,” Tristan said, taking big strides across the small field. “You don’t get to decide who I trust or not!”
“I’m not deciding anything! I’m warning you!” Cheren matched Tristan’s pace and now the two were standing in front of one another. “I thought you knew what it was like when someone hides who they really are.”
“Draya isn’t like N!” Tristan yelled.
“How would you know?” Cheren sneered.
Tristan took a step back and clenched his fist tightly, his emotions getting the better of him. He threw his right arm back behind him, wanting to knock the smug look on Cheren’s face right off, before he felt something wrap around his forearm.
“Stop it, both of you!” Draya’s leafy, vine-like tail held Tristan’s arm in place, stopping him from punching his friend in the face.
“Draya?”
“If that is ‘her’ name…” Cheren added.
“Shut up!” Draya barked.
The grip on Tristan’s arm loosened and fell away in a sparkling shower of purple light.
The Serperior that had just yelled at Cheren disappeared.
A Zoroark stood in its place.
“I am Draya!” she told Cheren, this time being the one stepping forward at him. “I always have been! I was there at Striaton fighting those monkeys! It was me who went with Tristan to that island with the lighthouse. I was with everyone when we talked to that policeman in his cramped little office. It’s always been me!”
“W-Well, Tristan? See? I was right.”
“Of course you were,” Tristan said. “And like I said, who cares? I’ve known about Draya’s identity since my gym battle in Nacrene City!”
“Oh, so you admit that you’ve been lying to our faces and keeping secrets?” Cheren asked.
“I didn’t want anyone to know other than Tristan!” Draya spoke up. “It was my secret he was keeping.”
“Fine, your identity notwithstanding,” Cheren calmed himself down adjusted his glasses, “my point still stands. What really happened on Liberty Garden Island? You never told me the truth about that, and I doubt that has anything to do with your Zoroark.”
“Actually, it does,” Tristan shot back.
“I…” Draya was shrunk back a little bit, her unease dealing with talking about her true self starting to get to her. “I was…”
“She used her powers to make that fake dragon scare off Team Plasma,” Tristan said for her.
Draya gave him a short look of relief.
“I didn’t say exactly what happened because that would’ve revealed Draya’s identity.”
“Tristan…” Cheren said, annoyed. “I stopped challenging gyms because we’ve got more important things to do. When it comes to stopping team plasma, nothing else should matter.”
“I agree—” Tristan started, but he was cut off.
“Then why would you keep secrets that could help us in our fight? If what you said about what really happened on that island, then a Zoroark’s illusion skills could be incredibly useful.”
“If Draya doesn’t want to use her powers, or let her true identity be known, that’s her business. Pokémon, especially not Draya, are not just tools for us to use. Even if none of my Pokémon wanted to fight Team Plasma, then I’d just do it myself.”
Cheren shook his head, “Well, you sure sound like the Hero of Ideals…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Tristan.
“How long do you expect to do everything on your own, acting like some storybook character? Don’t you know that’s not how the world works? We’re supposed to be fighting back against Team Plasma together!”
“What about you, huh? You were the one who ditched Bianca and I back in Castelia just to get stronger!”
“I stand by what I said! All of us needed to get stronger to be able to have a chance at taking down Team Plasma, and we weren’t going to make any progress unless the two of you had a serious wakeup call! Mine was the moment one of those Shadows broke my arm with his bare hand!”
Cheren held up his right arm to punctuate his statement.
“Not to mention that I would have come running if either of you had needed my help.”
“Easy to say that now after the fact,” Tristan shot back.
“Where do you think I am now, huh? I dropped everything after I saw your stupid face at the Master Bowl! I know Bianca called you non-stop until you picked up! We care about you, Tristan! At least give us the damn time of day!”
Draya and Cheren’s Serperior had moved away from the two arguing friends now that the subject had changed to something more personal.
“What did you want me to do, sit there and call for help on the field while that Volcarona was attacking us?” Tristan asked.
“Why not? It looked like N had no trouble calling for reinforcements.” Cheren crossed his arms, “Look, I’m not saying either Bianca or myself could’ve made a difference, but we set out to be trainers and to stop Team Plasma together. Let us help you.”
“I’m not trying to do things on my own,” Tristan explained. “That’s just how things ended up happening. Neither you or Bianca were there when N and I found Volcarona and Reshiram, so I had to handle it on my own.”
“And now?” Cheren asked.
“I don’t think either of you guys can help me with… Zekrom,” Tristan felt another pang of urgency urge him to get moving when his mind went to finding the Black Dragon of Ideals.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want your help,” he continued. “I’m going to need it if Team Plasma is going to be stopped. You, Bianca, and anyone else; we all need to work together to stop N and whoever else wants to separate people from Pokémon.”
Cheren stared on at Tristan for a moment, mulling over what his friend had just said to him.
“Well then,” he said finally, “I guess your head is on straighter than I thought.”
“Huh?”
“I was worried your little televised encounter with Team Plasma’s King had given you a little bit of a hero complex, but whether you can find your own dragon or not, you still seem to want to work together on this. I’m glad,” Cheren ended his assessment with a small smile.
“Good,” Tristan sighed, letting the tension fall from his shoulders. “I’ve had to make this case so many times today, I’m exhausted. Oh yeah, one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Bianca and I… talked.”
Cheren’s calm expression faltered for a tiny moment, his surprise betraying his interest in Tristan’s vague statement.
“…What about?” he asked.
“I don’t know exactly, but it was probably about that kiss she gave him after we won our last battle,” Draya spoke up, jumping in at just the right time to finally put Cheren off guard.
“Wh—! You two…?” He looked between the Zoroark and Tristan for any sort of explanation.
Tristan sighed again, feeling another exhausting conversation coming on.
Draya merely grinned at seeing Cheren’s pleading and panicked expression.
“Okay,” Tristan started, gathering his thoughts. “So this morning, Bianca calls me…”
—————
To Be Continued…
—————
- 17
- 18
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Vines of Deceit