Dark Mirror: Tournament of Vengeance chapter 11

It was a frustrated and unhappy Ash that returned to the training facility. His confrontation with his friends – and the questions they had raised – had soured an otherwise excellent day. A strong victory over an irritating opponent, one step closer to the championship. And then they had to find out about Alessa and his deal. Talking to him like that…he thought they’d understand. Wouldn’t THEY want to make Alessa pay too?!

They don’t get it. They just don’t… he kept repeating to himself.

To top it all off, he couldn’t even get his favorite drink or brand of chips. The machines must have been broken or something…or did he get ripped off? It was a small thing, he knew, but it did NOT help at all.

When he arrived at his floor, he wasn’t so much interested in training as he was interested in doing something – anything – to take his mind off things.

Ash stormed out of the elevator, causing all his Pokemon to jump back in shock. They knew immediately that something was wrong. Except for Houndoom…was it just Ash’s imagination, or was it smirking at him?

“OK, LISTEN UP!” Ash suddenly shouted, causing his Pokemon to cringe visibly. “We can’t mess around anymore – the preliminaries are OVER! It’s only gonna get a LOT harder from here on in, got it? We’re going up against Paul, Brandon and…a-and a lot of tough trainers, so we can’t slack off now! Now, let’s see what you’ve been working on while I was gone!”

None of his Pokemon moved, still too stunned by his outburst.

Ash started growling. “Did you hear me? I SAID-”

And that’s when he noticed Infernape.

All of his Pokemon were on edge, but Infernape in particular was staring at him with…terror. Like he could see…his old trainer in his new trainer…

Ash stumbled backwards as it sunk in what he was doing. Did he really want to take out all his frustrations on his Pokemon? The ones that trusted him completely? He was better than this…wasn’t he?

His Pokemon trusted him, and now they were scared of him…

Ash wheezed for breath, trying desperately to steady himself. “I-I-I-I-I…I just…I need you at…I…I’m sorry…I was gonna…I…”

…I was gonna take my lousy day out on you.

Ash spun around, unable to look at his Pokemon. Brock’s question started ringing in his head.

“Are you really going to put your Pokemon in danger, just so you can feel better?”

Apparently, the answer was yes.

Ash just stumbled back to the elevator, much to the confusion of his Pokemon. “Take…take a rest, guys. I just…I need to…I’ll come back when I’m feeling better, okay? I just need some sleep…OK? I’m so sorry…”

The elevator door closed, thankfully separating Ash from his Pokemon.

Ash was still trying to breathe normally when the elevator reached the main floor. He knew that his Pokemon would be confused and worried…heck, his mother was worried, what with Brock and Misty leaving him behind…leaving him behind…they didn’t get it…or maybe they did…

Ash glanced up at the poster of his smiling self, holding a can of Hoopa Cola, the archetypical trainer, the one everybody was or wanted to be…Ash blinked, and that smile became a hateful grimace, his eyes glaring at himself, his teeth grinding with rage, as all that was truly underneath that smiling façade was brought up to the surface…

“STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!” He finally snapped, smashing his fist into the poster’s fake smile.

KRUNK

It took a second for Ash to realize just how far his fist had gone in. The poster had been ripped by his punch, making a hole for his hand...he carefully removed his fist. There was a dent in the wall. Small and shallow, but still there. Weren’t these walls reinforced for Pokemon battles? Admittedly, it seemed weird for a strong Pokemon to just hit the wall on purpose, but…was he really strong enough to make a mark like that?

Yet another reason he needed to calm down before he did anything. And now he’d have to explain the bruises on his hand to an already worried Delia…

Ash blinked, looking at his hand again. Bruises? What bruises? There was nothing…no cuts, no red marks, no swelling, his hand wasn’t even sore…what was going on?

Adrenaline. Is that what it’s called?...yeah, that’s it. Ash shook his head clear and started walking out of the training facility. He needed to get home. He needed to sleep. He needed to relax. Then he’d figure out what to do.

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SLAM!

Paul was seething. No, more than that. Paul was BOILING.

The day had started so well. A quick victory against a nobody trainer. And then he’d seen someone he thought he could talk to. Someone who might have been able to help him with that pathetic Ash.

But then there was that damned migraine…that headache that made everything spin and swirl like something had used Confuse Ray on him. It took him everything he had to make it to the trainer’s lounge and the medical dispenser there.

Then, when his headache had cleared and he looked himself up, he saw the videos. Dozens of his ‘rivals’ had recorded him tumbling around like a drunk, bumping into walls, pillars, dispensers, and people (one of whom was a women who’d given him a harsh slap on the cheek).  They’d even recording his slurring attempts to get headache medicine from the hot dog dispenser before his brother had pulled him away.

He had never been so humiliated in his life.

Paul stormed into his hotel room, slamming the door behind him. Times like this, he was glad he and Reggie had separate rooms. He did NOT need his sanctimonious brother telling him what to do right now.

He would’ve still been training, but he couldn’t focus on one strategy for longer than a few seconds at a time. By the time he’d given up and left, his Pokemon were baffled, beaten and exhausted.

Paul glanced down at the pile of letters by his door. On a whim, he decided to go through them and see if they could calm him down. Sitting down, he started tossing aside the obvious junk letters. An advertisement for Hoopa Cola that was definitely going into the fireplace. A few stupid threats – no doubt by some of his ‘competitors’ . Not much else…  

Hm. An invitation for a TV interview… Paul was ready to toss it out, but then something occurred to him.

What he needed, more than training, was damage control. He needed to get on top of this embarrassing debacle. The videos had gone public, made him look like a buffoon, damaging his reputation. If he was going to be the model for all trainers to follow, he needed to present something to counter that.

After some thought, Paul nodded to himself. Yes. He’d do that. He’d go on this interview, present himself to the world. Show them all what the archetypical trainer was really supposed to be. He’d talk about what every trainer needed to understand if they ever wanted to succeed. Defeat all the passive-aggressive fools who though they could make him look foolish.

Paul starting writing a response, being careful to choose his words and go over what he intended to say at the interview. He smirked to himself, wondering if Ash would be watching this interview. Hopefully, even he could learn something from it.

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“So he’s with you?...No, it’s just that…well, it’s early for him. No, no, everything’s okay. Yeah…okay. Thanks, Miss Ketchum. Let us know if anything happens.” Brock shut his cellphone and sighed with relief. “Ash is with his mom. Delia says he’s acting stressed, but she’ll let us know if anything happens.”

Misty sighed. “Great, but we still don’t know what we’re gonna tell her.”

After the dramatic confrontation had ended, Misty and Brock had wandered through the city trying to calm themselves. It wasn’t until nearly sunset when they had stopped at a restaurant when they asked themselves a question they had overlooked.

What were they going to say to Ash’s mother?

They had promised her they would keep an eye on her son. They would keep him safe. But they had let him contact one of the most dangerous individuals they had ever known, and now a confrontation was inevitable between them. There was no way Ash was coming out of that unscathed, one way or another.

And they had just…left him alone. Just now. When he was angry and frustrated and holding a grudge against Alessa. At least he hadn’t gone after her tonight…

Brock sighed and sat down. “This is a mess. We need to think of something.”

“Yeah, but what? What are we supposed to do?”

“Easy. We make sure that they never have that fight – “

“How?” Misty bluntly retorted. “Ash never changes his mind about anything. And Alessa…how are we supposed to deal with her? If we try to drive her out, we’ll get on the bad side of her pets. And I really don’t think she’s the kind of person we can just trick.”

Brock furrowed his brow in thought. “Ughh…yeah, you’re right. But we can’t do nothing…Not unless we want a repeat of Kalville.”

“What was he ranting about, anyway? How he never does anything but run and play by someone else’s rules every time Silent Hill gets involved? I don’t get it…”

The two of them sunk into thought, silently mulling over their situation. For the longest time, none of the noises around them stirred them from their stupor, and then…

“Are you crazy, old man?! There’s a MONSTER in the park!”

That got their attention. The two of them spun their heads around to the source of the word ‘monster’.

At another booth in the restaurant, an old man they recognized as Ramos was waving off a hysterical bug collector. “Pfft. Settle down there, sprout. Twas prob’ly just a Onix.”

“No, it wasn’t! I know what an Onix looks like, and that…THING wasn’t an Onix! Whatever it was simply shouldn’t exist!”

Ramos nodded sagely. “Yes…Onix shouldn’t be in this neck of the woods. Prob’ly lost or somesuch. I’ll go check it out, me ‘n Gogoat’ll handle it.” He answered confidently, hobbling out of the restaurant with his garden shears.

The bug collector just shook his head. “…your funeral, old man.” He sighed, his eyes betraying just how terrified he had been of this monster.

Misty and Brock had seen that look in Kalville. They both looked at each other before running out the door after Ramos.