Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Eleveɴ • Tιмe Mαcнιɴe

Chapter Eleven: Time Machine

"So, we're heading to Fortree City now?"

Celeana mentally chided herself for her lack of stamina. They'd been walking for about two hours now, and she was already starting to falter.

Her head was aching from the afternoon sun, her eyes burning, and her arms and legs had long given up on her. She wanted to say that her companions were having a hard time too, but she seemed to be the least fit out of all of them.

Ryou seemed to have no problem at all—screw him, Celeana thought to herself while scolding herself for the inappropriate language. Is there anything he's not good at? He led the group, walking in front with just a few glances at his PokeNav Plus for guidance.

Her Kirlia walked beside her, her stamina having improved since her evolution, and Froakie had returned himself to his Pokeball long ago.

"Yeah," the teenage boy replied without looking back. The sun had caused his pale hair to be stained with a light, rose-coloured hue, and he didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything. "It's still a pretty long way until we reach, unfortunately. We may have to camp out tonight."

The coordinator gave a slight nod—while she was less than excited about the prospect of sleeping in such a dangerous setting, independence had to come someday. She had to learn to grow up just like everyone else.

"At least our water supply's secure," Celeana mumbled. "We have Water-type Pokemon with us, right?"

"We still have food to worry about," Ryou cautioned, and folded his arms behind his head in a bored fashion. "Since neither of us can cook, the packed lunches we bought will last us until tomorrow. In other words, we kind of have to reach Fortree by tomorrow."

The teenager blinked, twisting around to rummage through her bag for supplies. "I think I bought enough Pokemon food, but Kirlia might need a bigger share since she just evolved."

"I have some extra Psychic-type food," her companion replied. "I can lend some to you."

The blue-haired girl tilted her head—she couldn't see the shorter boy's expression, but the trainer's voice had gone dull for a second, his voice tightening the tiniest bit.

"Eh?" He glanced back, a confused smile gracing his face. "Is anything wrong?"

His voice had regained the usual cheerfulness, and the coordinator could do nothing but brush her thoughts aside as a figment of his imagination.

She shook her head. "It's fine," she replied. "Are we at least halfway there?" Celeana knew she was acting and whining like a little child, but in all honesty, she didn't care—she had reasons to act like one. The heat did strange things to her mind sometimes.

"Nope." The male trainer smirked a little at this. "About ten kilometres to the halfway mark, I think, so we'll stop there and continue tomorrow."

"Ten kilometres?" The teenager paused for a moment, rocking to and fro on her heels. "You know what? Never mind. I'll die just thinking about it, so I'm just going to walk."

Ryou uncrossed his arms, shoving them into his pockets. "Whatever you say," he teased. "Let's get going, then."

• • •

"I don't think I'm going to survive..." Celeana's shoulders were slumped, and she almost didn't manage to trudge on. "How far have we walked?"

Even the pale-haired boy in front of her had begun to falter, and he was looking more than a little tired. Fatigued, he stared at the PokeNav on his wrist uncomprehendingly. "We're almost at the halfway mark. About a kilometre more."