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Dreams	By : NyttyN Category: Pokemon > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2748 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, nor any characters or other intellectual property from it. I do notmake any money from the writing of this story. This is a work of fiction.

Chapter List
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A/N

Well, I liked this chapter a bit more then I liked the first one, but it's still not up to my normal writing quality.

Highlights!

Pre-adolescent confusion!

Bullying!

Ice cream!

Word count: 1500

Edit: The fuck. I was updating the title of this chapter, only to discover it somehow has more view then chapter 1. Amusing.

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Arc 1: Childhood

Chapter 2: Bullies, Fresh Love, and Ice Cream

“Yes, James?”

It was another idle day. One of those overcast ones where the beams of light poking through were just enough to illuminate the sky. Everyone in the classroom was either asleep, doodling, or idly chit-chatting, the whole lot of the middle-schoolers utterly uninterested in the school day.

Except for one. His hand raised high, James Bates triumphantly said “If we assume that one Shuckle can produce one unit of berry juice every two hours, then twenty Shuckle will produce a hundred units of berry juice in ten hours!” The teacher sighed “Yes, Bates. Now please let somebody else answer.” A white, dainty hand shot up into the air at this comment. Groaning, the teacher put a hand to her forehead and said “No, Sona, you don’t count.”

With a sad sound, the hand fell back down. A green figure, wearing a white dress, sat upon James’ desk. A Krila. The evolved form of the Ralts that James had received and bonded with a few years ago. James gave her a comforting headpat, scoffing at the teacher as the two went back to doodling, ignoring the weary eyes that she gave back.

While James was a model student academically, the boy had much to learn about pride. It didn’t hurt that his doting father, benefactor of the school, insisted upon several…special exceptions for James. For the most part, they were inconsequential, except for the fact that he was allowed to have his pokemon in class. At best, James and his Krila distracted eachother and those around them with their doodling. At worst, the other kids shot scorns of envy and muttered nasty things. Why couldn’t they bring pokemon to class?

Undeniably though, the two put together were the smartest in the class. James answered every question he could, claiming every second or third answer was from Sona. Accusations of cheating flew, but none of the pre-adolescents could prove anything. Any of them who tried a more direct approach of proving his ‘guilt’ suffered from defeat, as James had the advantage of only using one pokemon in a school where it was considered a good idea to try and battle with four Rattata.

*Brrriiing*

And with that bell, the school day ended. As always, the class shuffled out single file, with James and Sona taking the rear. As they walked out, the Krilla held up her portrait of a fierce looking woman with flaming red hair, wielding a sword against encroaching hordes, making a sighing noise. Red Sonja, her partial namesake, and the object of her current attempt at sketching. Her current failed attempt at sketching.

I don’t think I had enough time to finish it. The shading’s all off…

James shook his head, shrugging “Eh, plenty of time to finish it. We’ve got all da-“ Sona turned to him and practically stared daggers into him, eyes fraught with overreacting concern. No, master, you don’t understand. There won’t be time, because now I’m going to think of something new, and get distracted, and… James just laughed. It was kind of cute, the way she frantically obsessed over tiny things. Cute? No, endearing. Better term.

The two set off on their way home, walking down the empty and quiet sideroad, James hefting his backpack and Sona hefting her art supplies. To the world, they were just a Krilla and her trainer. To one another, they were friends. Companions. And of course, confused pre-adolescents. So stuck up on their thoughts, they hardly noticed the blurr striking them.

A cry of brief pain from each of them, as they suffered each a single quick attack from a Rattata. Nothing too serious, they were low level and hardly made a scratch… Of course, then came more. And more. And more. The blows kept piling on, the two helpless as purple rat after purple rat blurred past them, attacking them with ferocity and preventing the previously unmatched duo from getting the concentration to pull off a single act of retaliation.

After a few minutes, the blows stopped. The two dropped to their knees, bleeding and panting heavily. “What…” James managed to cough out, before the source of their abuse became clear. Walking up to them was a coalition of all of the bullies in the school, lead by a charismatic, yellow-haired leader. John Travish. Travish walked over and laughed, kneeling and spitting at the two “Hah, so much for your ‘unstoppable bond.’ You’re mo..mor….you can bleed like the rest of us.”

Sona growled, angry. Why can’t they just leave us fucking alone!? Her voice was like a sledgehammer, the tone of hatred unmistakable. She tried to focus a psychic blast at John, only to receive a jolt of electricity from a feisty Pichu at his side. “Ap bup bup bup!” John said, shaking his finger. Now that he had the superior position, he was abusing it, despite how underhanded the victory was. Jack coughed at him, spitting up a gob of blood and saliva “Too scared to fight us fairl-“

He was interrupted by John’s fist smashing into him, a right hook knocking him down to the ground. M-master! Sona stumbled to his side, helping the groaning James back up. “P…please, just leave us al-“ John laughed, grabbing James’ hair in order to get a firm grip on the battered boy’s head. “Oh lookey here, your little bitch is still concerned about you!” Laughter echoed out from him to the other delinquents, a chorus of malice.

“So, why don’t you show how much you care?” With a thrust, he smashed James face against Sona’s. There was pain, but neither was aware of it. All they could think of was the fact that their lips pressed together. The fact that their blood was mingling was irrelevant. The fact that they were bruised, battered, and bloodied, irrelevant. The fact that this was forced, irrelevant. The fact that this was forced, irrelevant. It felt good, and that was the only relevant fact.

Whooping and hollering laughter followed. “I think the sick fuck actually enjoys it, boys!” John laughed, letting go of John. The two stumbled away from him, holding eachother, James holding tightly onto Sona with fear, the Krilla staring pure hatred at them. Master, are you alright!? “D….damnit, I’m f..fine…” John raised his hand, manical laughter never ceasing “Alright boys, time to utterly humiliate these crossbr…cross…kissing frea-“ He never got to finish his sentence.

ENOUGH

That was the sole word that pierced every one of their minds. Every pokemon, every child, all of them heard it. It was enough to bring most of them to their knees. Unable to stand. The sheer force of the word forced them down. A tall man strode onto the road in front of them, accompanied by a hulking, blue metalloid figure, four mighty claws leaving tracks in the ground as it walked – A Metagross. James and Sona recognized the figure, each happily crying out “Dad!” Richard!

“Heh, sorry kid. Did I make you wait?” Richard scans the various bullies and Rattata, his eyes finally falling on John and his Pichu “I thought I told you all to leave my child and his Krilla alone. Right then, Metagross, handle the bullies and make sure they get proper punishment from their parents. .” Nodding, the metagross hulked over and glared at the children, watching as they withdrew their pokemon and shuffled in place in front of him.

Nodding with approval, Richard walked over to James and Sona, hefting up his son and the Krilla and dusting them off. Reaching into his pack, he whistled “You two go pretty banged up! Whew, just like your old man, huh?” Pah. We could have taken them. Sona angrily grumbled as Richard pulled out two yellow vials, spraying them over each of their wounds. Bleeding stopped as they stretched, feeling much better by the healing potions. “Good thing they didn’t break bone or anything. Few days and you two will be right as rain.”

Nodding and wiping his mouth, James coughed, saying “S…sorry father. We weren’t strong enough, and…” Richard laughed, patting James on the head “Pah, strong nothing. Let’s get you two washed up and we’ll go get some ice cream, alright?” Sona and James both made noises of pleasure as they skipped after him, Sona occasionally spinning on the way.

…

“So, feeling better?”

The three were sitting on a bench, licking away at various flavors. It doesn’t taste… Sona didn’t finish that sentence. She couldn’t bring herself to. What she wasn’t aware of was that he shared her thought. In spite of the wretched conditions, somehow that embrace tasted better than their frozen treats ever could. “It tastes…a bit off, but otherwise good.” James said, keeping Richard from doubt.

Still. All they could do was hold their cones in their hands, idly staring as they melted down, the scene replaying in their minds over and over. The obsessions of pre-adolescents. “Hey you two, something wrong? Since when do your let your ice cream uneaten long enough to melt?” Shaking back to attention, they start licking, all the while unable to shake the thought.

“E…everything’s fine, dad…”

Yeah… Sona thought, her hand loosely gripping the cone. “Everything.”

…

That night, before resigning to sleep, James and Sona stood outside in the garden of their home, staring at the moon wordlessly, both of them just glad to be able to do something other than talk. They reflected upon their experience that day, neither sure what to make of it. Of course, they said nothing to James’ father, nor to oneanother. What was there to say about an experienced that society frowned upon?

“Sona…” James… “Yes?!” Yes?! Their words echoed as they said them simultaneously, James viridian and Sona neon-green. “N…nothing…”…nothing… “Goodnight…”…Likewise. The two retreated back into the house, neither brave enough to bring up the subject, once that did not need to be brought up.

Not yet.
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Dreams