Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Sɪx • Sʟᴇᴇᴘ

Chapter Six: Sleep

Celeana kept her arms around the little Pokemon, cradling her shaking frame and staying silent as the creature cried.

She'd probably ruin it if she spoke, with her careless words and all, so she remained quiet and let the Pokemon vent out all her emotions. If she was to be honest, she was scared at this awkward, uncomfortable situation—she could spoil everything by accident/

The Ralts cried as if her mind was being shredded from the inside; cried as if she was a young child—which she was—who had just broken and was letting out the rage that had built up over months and years of raw sorrow. It was as if every sound that escaped her mouth was set to the frequency that would shatter Celeana's fragile heart to pieces again and again and again.

And then, as the young Pokemon's hysterics quietened down, the Ralts fell silent. She opened her mouth, but not a sound came out, her head violently quivering as if there was a drill to the back of her skull. Her eyes saw nothing; they had lost all sight of what is and what could have been.

Yet, despite the darkness that had invaded her vision, a new bud of light had started to blossom, wan petals blooming and opening up to show the world their shaky—yet breathtaking—beauty.

It was a new flower of hope that took its time to working its way out of the chamber it had been locked up in and winding around its master's heart. Perhaps the hope had been there all along, but without some love it was trapped, like crystals in a stone.

The teenager exhaled in relief as the dual-type Pokemon stopped shivering in her arms, instead choosing to slump against her body in exhaustion from her outburst.

Now her tears had stopped, leaving just their tell-tale wet tracks down her face. Celeana didn't know what to do—she wasn't one for these actions; she wasn't a psychiatrist, but all she could do was copy what Miss Enya did and run a finger across the creature's face and wipe away her tears.

Ralts flinched, at it was then that the girl knew that she had copied the woman wrongly and used too much roughness—but none of them complained, and she sighed in relief when both of them were able to manage a low chuckle at the situation.

Tiny Beautifly seemed to move in a wave across the Pokemon's veins, their fluttering wings brushing against her heart for just a fleeting moment and easing the desolation that had racked the small creature mere moments ago.

Finally, the sobs stopped altogether, and a tiny voice sounded in her mind, filled with a raw, vulnerable note that she'd never heard before. "I'm fine now," the Ralts mumbled. "You can put me down."

The trainer ignored the Ralts' comment for a moment, holding the creature to her chest for a few seconds longer before setting her down on the lush carpet of spring grass. She stole a concerned look at the Pokemon, and moved into a squatting position next to her. "Are you...?"

Avoiding Celeana's gaze, a dark flush flooded the Pokemon's once snowy cheeks, looking at the ground in desolate embarrassment. Yes, she muttered with more resolution that she had expected. "I am fine. I'm sorry for worrying you, and I'm sorry you had to see such a weak side of me."

"Everyone has a weak side," the girl responded. "And everyone needs to show that weak side sooner or later. After all, we're all mortal, aren't we?"

"You're strong," the Ralts argued, but Celeana just shook her head and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

She laughed. "Not really. I'm not strong," she shrugged. "I can just copy these empty words that someone else told me and try my best—in reality, I'm weak all the time, and I don't bother to hide it. I guess people just take my weakness for strength."