Z1

Zorua story

N had vanished. I wasn’t exactly sure when I had realized that. He’d told me that I was free, that I could do what I wanted and that I didn’t need him anymore. I didn’t believe him then, and I didn’t believe him now. I hadn’t even been with N for a long time, but he had been there for me. He had understood me, in a way that other humans couldn’t. He understood me.

And he was gone now. The pink haired girl and the yellow haired girl helped make his absence bearable, but they only made it worse. Them and the brown robed man, they had known N as well. They talked about him and a group they were in called Team Plasma. N had led it. I hadn’t even realized N had led it. I hadn’t really cared then. I cared now.

It finally had sunk in that N had done so much. He had given me choices, unlike what other trainers would do. He let me fight if I wanted to, he didn’t make me fight. N had cared for me. I had cared for him.

N wasn’t coming back. He never said that he planned to return, but I always assumed it was something he forgot to mention. It didn’t make sense. How come he abandoned me? Didn’t we have fun together? I enjoyed being around N. He said he cared for me and that he wouldn’t let anyone harm me. N was a nice person. How come he left me? Was he not having fun like I was? It didn’t make sense. I hated pink haired girl and yellow haired girl. The way they talked about N, it had made me realize that he wasn’t going to return or play with me or be my trainer again.

I ignored pink haired girl and blond haired girls’ protests as I ran for the door. I leapt, my paws pushing down on the knob and forcing the door open. I couldn’t stay here any longer. N had abandoned us the pink haired girl and blond haired weren’t doing anything about it. Even the brown coat man wasn’t doing anything about it and he had called himself N’s teacher. I would return later, like always. For now, I needed to be anywhere but here.

Halfway down the hill I remembered the warnings that pink haired girl had given me. They’d always told me that Zorua were rare, and that people would selfishly chase after one because of that. I didn’t want to be chased.

I stopped, closing my eyes and concentrating. An energy bubbled inside me, swirling and twisting. Images danced behind my eyelids, shapes and colors and people and objects being forced into shape and then roughly broken down, only to coalesce into a new creation. I forced the energy to match the shape of one of the images, guiding it until it all settled in place.

A translucent image snapped into existence. I couldn’t see it all, not when it was positioned over me, but I didn’t have to. I could feel the energy making it up, and I could manipulate the energy to make it move and gesture. A pale boy with long black hair reaching his shoulders. A black and white hat, with a white shirt and khaki shorts. It was the usual illusion I went to, and it was the one I felt most comfortable with.

It was hard to puppet the illusion after so long. I had to make sure the movements were natural and smooth. The whole body had to move, not just the legs. When a hand twisted, that meant the arm had to move with it. I had to keep it centered on me, so no one would accidentally kick me. I couldn’t interact with anyone, the illusion was fragile and if someone touched it too long, it would break. The illusion wasn’t physical either, which meant that anyone who touched it would realize that it wasn’t there.

The city was large, and it was busy. I walked slowly, weaving between people and making sure I didn’t accidentally brush up against anyone. It would be incredibly awkward and dangerous if my illusion suddenly vanished. I had a few close calls, like when an old woman’s Lilipup tried to talk to me. I couldn’t talk back to it, not without basically giving away that I wasn’t actually a human.

Eventually, I made it the massive stadium that hosted the Pokémon World Tournament. I’d always felt myself drawn to this place. I couldn’t battle anymore. N had been my trainer. No one else would have been as good of a trainer as he had been. Pink haired girl and the rest of the people at the building didn’t want to be my trainer. They were personally against it.

Watching the Tournament was the closest I could get to actually fighting. It was exhilarating to watch. The roar of the crowd, the close matches, the sheer amount of power displayed, it all mixed together and made me antsy. I wanted to be down there, I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to battle.

My favorite matches were the ones where the gym leaders were involved. I didn’t fully understand what they were, no one had explained it to me and I couldn’t ask, but they were powerful and N had beaten them. These were the people that N had said he was against, these were the people that N had deemed abusers. They were strong, and anyone who fought one knew it. N had been strong, and people had known it.

The Tournament was a risky thing to watch. It was fun, but the seats were often packed to some degree. There was a lot of opportunities for my illusion to be broken here. It had been broken here before. Someone had been squeezing through the aisle. They were overly large, and I hadn’t had enough time to pull my illusion’s legs out of the way. The man had walked right through them, and the illusion had shattered. I’d been forced to flee the building and remake my illusion into the form of a collection of snacks under someone’s chair.

Eventually, the stadium lights began to dim, and I made my way out of the stadium. Today had hosted one of the slightly more interesting tournaments in a while. A gym leader had participated. The steadily lowering sun didn’t bother me. My eyes worked fine in the dark, so a bit of darkness didn’t really bother me.

A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. A man in a grey uniform ran down the docks. The uniform covered his whole body, to the point where only part of his face was visible. It was understandable really. I had fur and a place to stay, so the cold didn’t bother me, but humans weren’t as lucky. I nearly wrote the man off as someone over prepared for the cold when I saw the emblem on the front of his outfit. It was a shield, half of it black and half of it white. A blue P was in the center of the shield, and blue lines zigzagged behind it. I’d seen a few of the people at the house with that emblem. It was Team Plasma’s emblem. The people at the house wore different outfits, but they had the same emblem as the running man did.

N had led Team Plasma. Maybe this man knew where N was?

I chased after the man, pent up energy finally being expended as I kept pace with him. There were three people running after us, yelling something, but I tuned them out. They weren’t important. Only the running man and his connection to N was. The Plasma member jumped onto a giant sailboat, and I followed him a moment later. The people chasing us followed too. They started yelling, saying something about stolen Pokémon. Were they asking the man for help retrieving their stolen Pokémon? Plasma cared about Pokémon, so of course the man would help.

The man didn’t help. Dozens of Plasma members, all similarly uniformed, surrounded the trio who had asked about stolen Pokémon. The gym leader from the tournament was one of those people, I realized. The trio battled, sending out Pokémon one by one. They were outnumbered, but they fought on.

Something broke my illusion, and I spun around. Three Plasma members stared me down, a trio of Krookodile standing next to them. They were all alike, each one of them sharing a predatory grin. The Krookodiles tool a menacing step forward, and I ran.

What was going on? Plasma helped people, why were they chasing me? We wanted the same thing! It didn’t make sense.

The Krookodiles moved with an easy swiftness, keeping pace with me despite my efforts to avoid them. I couldn’t turn around or else I would be caught. I couldn’t keep running or else I would be cornered. I kept running anyways.

There was nowhere left to run. I was cornered. The three Krookodile stared down at me, their mouths open and showing row after row of pointed teeth. Tears rushed down my face. Why? Why were these guys after me? I hadn’t even done anything! We could have worked together! Team Plasma wasn’t like this!

I let the energy that made up my illusion merge and swell. I wasn’t sure what it was being shaped into. I didn’t care. The Krookodiles took a few steps back, and I made a break for the opening. They backed off further as I ran through the gap. I looked at the central pillar, the one that held the sail. I had to escape, I had to be free. The pillar wasn’t made to be climbed, but it had a pattern cut into the metal. I leapt, my claws sinking into the grooves. I could feel the strain already, but it didn’t matter.

I didn’t dare look down. I focused on my climbing. I had to keep moving, I couldn’t afford to stop to rest, even as my muscles protested and begged me to stop. I was almost there. It wasn’t the highest point, but it was high enough that no one could reach me.

My claw slipped. I scrabbled at the sleek metal, desperately grasping for purchase. I found it and hooked my claw into it. I pulled, climbing upwards. I had to get to the bar. I could rest there.

With a grunt of effort, I pulled myself onto the bar, sighing in relief. My muscles burned and ached and felt like jelly. I couldn’t keep climbing, I needed to rest. My eyes drooped shut, and I let the world fade away into darkness.