Dream Bringer [Pokémon]

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

        I impatiently twiddled my thumbs as I hunched over in my seat. Indifferent, I stared down at the gleaming white floors. A large tangerine Pokéball symbol was imprinted on the linoleum, its bright color smeared and scuffed upon over the years. An image of various mingling Trainers and their companions bounced off the sleek lamination. My disheveled, rather grumpy expression glared at me from behind the surface. I groaned slightly, tucking a stray auburn lock behind my ear in a hope to improve my looks- but to no avail.

         A pitchy, feminine voice snapped me back from my reverie.

        "Aum, 'scuse me, miss," it cooed politely. I lifted my head, scowling at the black-haired lady who bent down to meet my gaze. She adorned a bright, triangular hat, along with the signature rose hoop skirt and bleached jacket of a nurse. A silver platter was perched on the tips of her fingers, just about shoved under my nose.

        "Yer Pokémon are all 'ealed up, miss," she chimed, motioning to the two cherry-topped spheres that gently rolled about her plate. I grunted in reply, scooping them up and pocketing them speedily. The ditzy nurse blinked confusedly, whipping around and tromping to the sleek counter huddled in the back of the Pokémon Center. I gave a casual eyeroll, slightly disappointed that Countess wasn't there to share it with me.

           Almost guiltily, I stole a glance at the shrimp who was slumped in the cushioned chair beside me. Bony hands were dug into his honey-colored hairdo as his eyes swept across the floor. I heaved the remnant of a sigh, shaking my head a tad.

           "It was quite a clever move you did back there," I commented in a bored manner. "Using your weaknesses to your advantage. You know, I almost mistook you for a complete imbecile."

            Again, almost guiltily.

            The Journey Guide jerked his head up, swiveling towards me in bewilderment. His hands curled into stiff fists as he eyed me. His lips parted in an 'O' shape, but it took a few seconds for him to produce sound.

            "You thought my grief was a tactical move?"

             I blinked, a bit confused myself. "Well, telling by your lack of strategy and preparedness skills, this couldn't have been the first time you've lost a battle. In fact, you've probably lost many, by all rationality. So that rules that reasoning out. I don't think the loss was any surprise to you, either. So, as a last resort, you used the pressure of scorn to make me give in," I concluded, folding my arms in preparation for a rebuttal.

             "T-That's ridiculous!" Flynn shouted. Many of the others in the glass-encased mini-hospital flitted their gaze to us, clamping their mouths shut as we began to argue once again.

             "What do you propose, then? If it's not a battling maneuver, then what is it?"

             "Well, I could've cried out of, hm, I don't know, maybe sadness? I know you might be emotionless, but the rest of us aren't!" he shrieked, suddenly leaping up from his seat. He whipped to confront me, huffing and grunting like an irritated Tauros. I struggled to keep my mouth a straight line as I saw his cheeks slip into an alarming shade of crimson.  

             "So you cried like a Cubone at a funeral just because you lost a battle? I don't buy it," I remarked bitterly, narrowing my gaze at the shrimpy kid. Flynn fumed.

             "It wasn't because of the battle! It was because-" At this point, the Journey Guide paused slightly, flitting his sight across the room. "-because of my job," he finished lamely. I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. However, I decided to remain silent for this one, just eyeing the thirteen-year-old expectantly as he fidgeted. Finally, a small sigh arose from his throat and I detected a hint of guilt. His sudden rage had seemingly stopped in its tracks, replaced by some sort of mix of sentimental sorrow and relief. Flynn shook his head, beginning to explain quietly.