Prelude (Side B): Stop It

One Day Ago

He kept his eyes shut, but he was very much aware of the door clicking; of the creak that the object made and the footsteps that pattered with every step his brother took.

A hand gripped at the sheets rustling underneath him as he clung to his bed, waiting until the other boy was gone before sitting up and staring at the empty room before him with little trace of expression on his apathetic face.

Right. I'm free until the afternoon. He knew that he should have used that excuse to sleep a little later, but he was awake and it wasn't like he wanted to go back to bed.

What did he have to do in the first place? Aiden was the one supporting their family, and no one would have complained if he was to be a freeloader. No one would have noticed, but he had went and gotten himself a job anyway.

He supposed it was a method of relieving his boredom. His parents' idea of family didn't include him in the first place, and somewhere deep down, he thought that doing something with his life would relieve the hollow ache in his chest.

It didn't, but it was better than doing nothing and becoming like one of those vagabonds or thugs he saw in the streets—besides, Yan was pleasant company, and he found himself reporting for his job every day.

His Doublade hovered beside him with an indifferent expression, and he tried to prepare himself for another trip to the nearby fields for a morning jog, but the harsh glance from his Pokemon told him that it wasn't in the mood for such an event.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" A sigh escaped Avis' lips, and he met the creature's glare with an even gaze. "There's not many things you can do at seven in the morning."

A few seconds elapsed before the pair of possessed swords let out a metallic noise that sounded like a disappointed grunt, floating across the room and using one of his tassels to grab onto an object that was promptly shoved in his face.

The teenager fumbled to catch the weapon, looking at his partner with a cross expression and grabbing on to his brother's spare sword. "Are you suggesting that I go practice using it again?" An unhappy scowl flitted across his face upon the creature's nod. "You know I don't want to."

Doublade responded with a series of incomprehensible noises that sounded from deep within its core, but the final tone was one of cheerful resolution—and the boy knew for sure that he couldn't win against the Pokemon's conviction.

"Fine," he grumbled. "But just for a short while."

Somewhere behind him, if such creatures could make expressions, Doublade would have smiled.

§

It was as if the sword in his hands was made to oppose him.

While he was sure that he was over-exaggerating things—he was, after all, already better at swordplay than most he knew because of the few things Aiden had taught him—the blade's hilt felt numb and cold, and its movements felt disconnected with his own.

Just for a while, he had told both himself and his Pokemon, but that rule had been cast aside long ago and he recalled that fact with a dry chuckle from the back of his throat.

Then, he raised his sword for what seemed like the hundredth time—had it?—and slashed at the air in front of him, bringing his weapon down and finishing the move with a heavy heave of his shoulders. Doublade just sighed from above, large eyes observing him with an owlish stare while it gave a critique that no one but him would understand.

"I know it's messy," he snapped, charging at his partner and stabbing his sword in his direction. He watched the dual-typed creature respond with a glint in his eyes; a battle stance unfurling, but he was too distracted by that one thought. "Of course it's messy. I'm not Aiden."

The Pokemon overpowered him with ease, smacking his trainer with the flat side of a silver blade and sending Avis to the ground with a cross noise.

Of course he wasn't Aiden. No two people could be the same and he knew that; yet, he had been trying to imitate such a simple action of his brother's for two whole hours with little success. He wasn't trying to kid himself either; the knight was the superior twin, and he was just a double. A spare that hid in the shadows.

"Look, I'm just doing this because you asked me to, alright?" He sat up, rubbing at a cut with the back of his hand and looking at the bloodstained skin with a listless expression. "It's just for self-defence, like my brother said. Nothing more."

His mind screamed it over and over again like a mantra. It was just for self-defence. Just another thing he did to pass the time and increase his chances of survival.

Then why had he come to this very arena three days ago? Twice in the previous week? Why had he visited this dreadful place last month in the first place?

Doublade showed his first traces of concern for his friend when he detected a change in the boy's posture. It was now hunched over, and his movements were much more sluggish and halting; his grip around the sword was much tighter, however, and the way the blade pierced the air was so forced that it made a creature like him wince.

"Again." Seeing that his trainer had stopped altogether, the Pokemon prepared to move forward to inquire the problem, but he was troubled by the low mumbling coming from the boy's lips. "Let's do it again."

His shoulders heaved—not because of his exhaustion, but because of the silent tears trickling down for some abstract reason he didn't understand—and he clung on to the sword like it was his only source of support.

He had been embarrassed when Aiden tried to teach him. Pride was all he had left, and he didn't want that taken away too—but when he tried by himself, he couldn't reach his brother's glory either. A spare was, after all, a step down from the superior; the original.

Biting his lip to stop the tears from coming—it was quite nonsensical, he didn't feel sad in the first place and there was no reason at all to cry—he got back up and prepared to strike again.

§

"Mm." Avis made a grunt at the back of his throat as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'm running late."

With that notion, he quickened his pace, making sure to avoid the curious gazes of passers-by as he walked. No one needed to go how he got those mysterious cuts; it was best to let them come to their own conclusions and ignore everyone.

He'd dropped the sword off at his house, making sure it was back in its leather sheath and tucked under Aiden's bed just as it had been in the morning. Doublade had returned as well—he disliked the Hoenn soldiers, and preferred to stay out of a street where they were in plain view.

His overflowing mind had caused his head to lower even further, however, and he made a startled sound as he ran into someone.

Immediately, apologies ran to the tip of the tongue, and he prepared to say the customary words and expressions before resuming his path, but something in the pair of haughty eyes he met froze each syllable right where they'd been.

"I'm—" He couldn't get any further before he was paralysed from fear. The Hoenn soldier was much bigger than him, but that wasn't the cause of his terror—it was the look in his icy gaze that made him pause. The man before him looked more like a gang member than a soldier, and his crumpled uniform reeked of alcohol.

"What do you want?" He detected a drunk slur in that heavy Hoenn accent of his, and he could only gulp, feeling his pulse throbbing in his chest and ears while a knife seemed to twist in his gut. "Picking a fight with me?"

He flinched, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone would help him, but the residents were already scattering. They were, after all, living in fear of Hoenn attacks, and this was a time where everyone was becoming selfish.

The both of them were alone in the street. Avis turned to run, the most logical thing for someone to do, but a rough grip on his wrist prevented him from doing so.

A punch landed itself on his cheek; an area that cuts had laced from earlier, and he stumbled back, letting out a strangled gasp as his back touched a wall and as he realised that he had nowhere to run even now. The soldier's sword was visible, and he was far too drunk to be aware of what he was doing—

"Stop what you're doing." Both of them froze at the calm voice; Avis stopped struggling, and the man pinning him down turned his heavy head to see the purple-haired boy eye them with a commanding gaze. "Now."

"Who're you?" His question came out as little more than an angry murmur, but it was enough to pry him off the shaking boy. " 've never seen you before."

"A soldier of the Kalos military," Aiden replied, his voice every bit as smooth as his relaxed expression. "According to the rules set by your commander, you're not allowed to hurt residents for no such reason unless an order has been given. Banishment from the army or other punishment will follow if you kill him, so I suggest leaving."

There were a few long seconds where the man remained silent, and Avis prayed with all his heart that he would understand through the drunken stupor and leave them alone, but his wish wasn't answered. "Ah, to the Distortion World with that," he grunts. "There isn't need for any of you Kalos vermin in this world anyway."

With that, his sword was drawn, and he stumbled at his opponent; albeit still with more natural skill than Avis would possess, and for a moment, the boy thought that his twin was in trouble.

But he had forgotten how highly-ranked the boy was in the military, and it took just a moment for the purple-tressed teenager to twist the situation around. His sword was out in less than a second, and the Hoenn soldier's weapon clattered to the ground as Aiden pressed his own blade to his neck.

"I don't want this to end with anyone injured," he breathed, somehow still maintaining that placid tone of his. "Again, I suggest leaving. You won't die and your commander won't hear of this."

His eyes narrowed as he watched the drunken man beneath his blade, and he waited a few moments before deciding to trust his opponent's actions and sheathing his sword. The man's gaze flickered to both of the Kalos-born teenagers, letting out a low curse before disappearing down the street.

The sturdy look in the knight's eyes melted, and he turned to his brother with a worried expression. "Are you OK?"

Avis furrowed his eyebrows, averting his gaze and concentrating hard on one spot on the ground. "I'm fine," he muttered, refusing to speak any further. Sure, his cheek throbbed, but that was about the extent of his injuries.

What had ached more was his pride, and the helplessness of being saved once again and being the inferior one out of the both of them. He was tired of being weak, and this was just another incident that had told him he couldn't do anything.

"You sure?" Aiden's blue eyes had spotted the cuts he had received in the morning, and he walked over to inspect the wounds. "But you're—"

"For Arceus' sake, stop trying to play the hero!" He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, but something evil in him told him to say those twisted words—after all, his brother was so perfect, wasn't he? This wouldn't be an issue.

"I already get that you're better than me," he muttered. "But please stop trying to do those things. I hate it."

He left in a hurry before his stunned brother could respond, his feet almost tripping over themselves as he rushed to get to the herb shop where he could while another few hours away.

He hated it.

§

Mmm I guess that ends another chapter!! This also ends the prelude so yay cx

Thank you guys so much for 260 reads and 50 votes!! :0 You have no idea how much this means to me! <3

As always, votes, comments and critiques are very appreciated °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

~ nyxia ☆