Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Teɴ • Everyтнιɴɢ'ѕ Geттιɴɢ Beттer

Chapter 10: Everything's Getting Better

The taxi ride was oddly therapeutic.

Celeana gazed straight ahead, half-aware of that a world even existed outside the claustrophobic comfort of the car, shadowy vines of worry clawing at the back of her mind.

The anxiety existed like an over-caffeinated drink, but without the option not to take a cup; like an electric fence but with just enough voltage for her to feel uncomfortable.

Beside her, Ryou stared into the distance, his violet eyes seeming more faraway and disconnected than usual.

She was grateful that the quartz-haired boy had chosen to accompany her on the ride to Verdanturf—after all, he could have chosen the more convenient route of flying, but the teenager had expressed some form of mild concern for her and Ralts.

The blue-tressed female bit her lip in terrified anticipation. What she had heard was the truth, and truths were easy to understand and deal with when discovered, but the problem was that she didn't want to acknowledge this truth.

"We're there," Ryou pointed out. "Have you calmed down yet?"

Celeana gave him a mechanical nod, but in reality, she couldn't quite hear him through the layers of worry and torment that muffled her ears.

The silver-haired boy shrugged, rolling his shoulders in a simple action before beckoning her off the vehicle. She followed in a state of absent-mindedness, her thoughts in a jumbled daze.

She was more than glad for to let her ally walk in front—after all, she was nothing more than a live bundle of nerves right now, and she wasn't even sure that she could make her own way to the Pokemon Center.

She knew that worrying was pointless; that it wouldn't stop any imminent crisis from happening, but she couldn't help but be concerned for her Ralts.

The coordinator gave a harried sigh, following after the shorter trainer and stepping into the building.

What used to be a cosy structure had turned into a claustrophobia-inducing establishment that spewed a constant ominous air, the cheerful atmosphere tainted with hints and traces of rising hysteria.

She stumbled, almost tripping over her own feet in a hurry to see her Pokemon, and her pace quickened as the counter came into view.

Celeana gave a quick nod in greeting, pale amber eyes wide in anxiety as they darted around. "I'm Celeana. Where's my Ralts?" she questioned the assistant, slamming her identification card down on the smooth surface.

"O—Oh." The young woman stepped back, rocking back and forth on her heels as she debated the best way to answer her. "Right this way. Follow me."

She left the counter hastily, producing a set of keys and unlocking a nearby door. "Room 10—the operation room," the secretary stammered out. "Your Ralts should be there with Nurse Joy."

"Thank you." It didn't matter to the blue-haired girl that her words of thanks sounded like it had been mashed into a single term due to her hurried speech—that wasn't important now. She closed the door behind her, spooking herself at the forceful crash she had produced.

Shaking her head, she cleared her mind of any stray thoughts, her strides lengthening as she advanced down the hospital's corridor with a determined swiftness.

It occurred to her that she'd never seen this side of the Pokemon Center before—the trademark cheery hues of the building was absent, drained to a, sickly shade of white that rivalled that of a ghost, and an abnormal stillness filled the hallway with a stifling air of dread.