Chapter Twenty-Seven: I'll Be Fine

Ryou glanced at the blue-haired girl—she'd borrowed his phone to search up the so-called definition of a "kiss", and a mad blush was spreading across her cheeks.

Memories of last night came flooding back, and he looked away, his face heating up even more than hers—and that in itself could be considered an achievement. They stayed like that for a few moments, not daring to make eye contact with each other and making sure they were more than a few feet away.

That was until Quinn walked up to them, trying to hide the uncanny smirk across her face, and Celebi flitted next to her, the meek Legendary carrying a gentle smile as she glanced at the both of them. "Is something wrong?" Her innocent tone hid the mischievous intent underneath. "Were there any, perhaps...romantic moments between you two last night?"

Celeana smothered their smirks with an embarrassed glare, something that impressed the pale-haired teenager across her—he hadn't seen her behaving that firm before. She did, however, pause when a small burst of laughter escaped her friend's mouth, and she curiously looked back to see Ryou smiling.

"This is hilarious," he stated, but the light scarlet dusted across his cheeks still remained. He stopped for a while, looking away, and it was clear that he was still uneasy about the entire situation—but she couldn't help but giggle at the sound of a soft "Idiots" muttered under his breath.

The coordinator just shrugged, glancing down at him with an amused expression. "You know,  it's usually me or Quinn behaving like that," she commented. "But that aside...are you OK? You don't need to smile like that if you're not up to it."

"Oh, this?" He returned her stare with an even gaze, the tiny grin on his face not wavering. "What, have you thought me incapable of having an actual smile?"

"Just kidding," he breathed. "It's tiring to keep it up, but I guess it's a bit easier than maintaining my old mask. And I won't stop lying, you know—it's part of my nature. Just because you're trying to fix this doesn't mean I'll stop."

Raising an eyebrow, she decided to let his speech slide—she couldn't expect all of his old ways to stop at once. Instead, she sighed, trying her best to hold his attention before speaking once more. "OK then," she replied. "Just promise that you'll show your true face once in a while, OK?"

The trainer rolled his shoulders in a simple action, his tone dropping to the doubtful one that she had witnessed just last night. His voice searched hers for sincerity as he spoke. "No one ever believes me when I tell the truth," he whispered, voice small.

"I do," she murmured back, and that ended the conversation—she then ruffled her friend's messy hair, causing him to shoot a glare at her. "Anyway, let's get going—you want to leave this place as soon as possible, right?"

He gave her a firm nod, and that settled things—Quinn trailed behind them as usual, pretending to look disinterested in the older duo's antics, but they could see that irksome snicker that she kept to herself.

Once they did exit the Pokemon Center, though, they were met with an unusual sight that shocked their eyes—Steven Stone leant against one of the whitewashed walls of the building, slant-eyed gaze focused on the light-haired boy at the front of the trio.

Gesturing at the two females to step back, Ryou stepped forward, holding the older man's gaze with a defiant glare in his amethyst eyes.

"I would ask you what you're doing here, but that's a rhetorical question," he started, a mirthless smile playing on his lips. "I'm pretty sure I got the message across—I'm not going back, and you're not going to make me. I'm never going back to Devon Corporation—accept the fact already and leave me alone."

The man's voice was calm as he replied, the confident smile on his face still strong and worrying all three of them. "I'm not here for that," he answered in a smooth voice, striding over and grabbing the boy's wrist so that he couldn't escape. "I'm here to propose something."

As the trainer was about to shoot back a sarcastic response, the Champion interrupted him once again. "Now, here's my solution," he stated. "We'll have a battle, three on three. Your Beldum has to be one of the Pokemon you choose."

"And what would that amount to?" His adopted brother folded his arms, displeased by the second rule stated, but didn't protest otherwise. Celeana tilted her head—since when did he have a Beldum?—but decided not to question it.

Steven's voice was calm. "I think you would know," he explained. "If you win, I'll leave you alone—and I'll even help persuade Father to stop pursuing you. However, if I win, you have to show your face in front of Father and perform the opening speech at the seminar held tonight."

The trainer beside her was silent, and the coordinator fretted about her friend's safety—and her head jerked upwards as he replied.

"Fine." The boy's tense position gave a sharp contrast to his amicable tone, but his tone held an evenness that rivalled his brother's. "When do we start?"

• • •

"No need for a r—referee, right?" Celeana glanced at the younger boy as she posed her query, and cringed at the small crowd that had started to gather—the last thing either of them wanted was people looking. This was a private family affair, after all—besides, she knew this would make Ryou even more scared than he already was.

Steven shook his head, readying a Pokeball and crossing over to the opposite side of the makeshift field. "It's an informal battle," he informed. "This is just a friendly match—such formalities are not required for one."

Nodding, the blue-haired girl shifted so that she was behind Ryou, and Quinn stared ahead with a cold look in her narrowed eyes—yet, the mild concern for the child's acquaintance was apparent, and she appeared at the older girl's side without a hint of noise.

"There's no need to delay this," the older man called, attracting the trainer's attention and causing him to tighten his grip on the sphere in his hand. "I'll start this battle, then—so that you'll have an advantage. Metagross!"

An inhuman screech resounded, and with a battle cry, the large Pokemon's disc-shaped body powered by four large limbs that had razor-sharp spikes protruding from each leg. A deceptive cross hid the creature's mouth, and its flaming gaze landed on his opponent, even more eerie against the black sclera of its eyes.

"Your ace...so you just want to end this." With that, the teenager switched the Pokeball in his hand for another orb, tossing it into the air and revealing the sleek draconic figure inside. "Keep your guard up, Flygon. Do not underestimate this opponent."

Growling, the dual-typed Pokemon turned to face his trainer with a gentle expression that the creature almost never showed. Then, she wheeled around, angling her large diamond-shaped wings so that it took little power to glide just above the ground.

"If you're using your strongest Pokemon first, then the only one that can come close to beating it is my ace," the boy muttered. "Start with a Dragon Breath. If paralysis doesn't take effect, don't bother trying again—use Earthquake."

Nodding, the beast flapped her wings once, her ascent graceful as she craned her long neck, letting loose a powerful jet of multicoloured energy at her enemy.

The attack barely scathed the high-experienced veteran of a Pokemon, and the one trace of the Dragon Breath left was a faint mark that pressed a dent into its metallic turquoise shell. Luck wasn't on the teenager's side too—Ryou had failed to achieve his desired effect.

Grunting in annoyance, the beast leapt back before the Metagross could attempt an attack, swinging her tail into the ground and causing the earth to shake and rumble in unstopped violence. White shockwaves accompanied the destruction, spreading out in wide rings towards Metagross at an alarmingly high speed.

This seemed to upset her opponent more—this time, Metagross was pushed back, a robotic hiss of pain echoing in a mixture of monotonous voices. A smirk graced Flygon's face at this, and she took the chance to attack yet again, powering up with a swift Dragon Dance before causing another Earthquake to plague the ground once more.

"You're good," Steven noted, a small smile on his face. "However, I was crowned Champion for a reason—Metagross, Meteor Mash to block against that attack."

The large monster complied, the large cross on its face glowing as it held up two lit-up arms, driving them into the ground and causing an uproar of rubble to rise, the shower of miscllaneous debris scratching against Flygon's body and leaving the creature defenceless.

Not even needing another command from his trainer, Metagross levitated from the ground, speeding at its opponent—it was fast for such a bulky Pokemon—and crashed into the dragon with an impressive force, sending up a cloud of dust that reduced the visibility to near zero.

"Flygon, are you OK?" Ryou's voice was concerned, dry and coughing from the hazy mist he had just breathed in. He strained his ears to make out the command that Steven had muttered from across the arena, eyes widening in shock. "Dragon Breath!"

Just as the beast dove out of the cloud, large frame cloaked in an aura of the palest peach and a royal gold, his Pokemon rose up, fanged mouth opening wide to shoot yet another thin beam of blue and pink flames as an ineffective counter.

A cry tore from the smaller creature's throat as the effects of her opponent's Giga Impact set in, and she halted, body hanging limp and crashing to the ground—and before her ruby-shaded eyes slipped close into unconsciousness, an understanding gaze lingered in those calm optics.

"Return, Flygon." The pale-haired boy spoke in whispered tones, watching with frightening emptiness as the streak of red light swallowed and sucked the fallen Pokemon back to her Pokeball. "You did well—take a good rest. I'm very proud of you."

Cheering sounded on Steven's side, and the teenager froze—until a reassuring hand was placed on his shoulder, and he glanced up in surprise as Celeana shot him a comforting smile. Gulping, she raised her voice, knowing that she would be embarrassed—but it was for her friend. "Go, Ryou!"

A small laugh sounded in his throat as he gave her a nod of thanks, hand sweeping over the Pokeball's silver panel with an air of practiced lightness. "Swellow!"

The avian let out a screech , sharp eyes settling on the Metagross in front of him as he readied for battle, circling overhead and waiting for a pocket when the beast would let down his defence for even a split-second.

A small sneer crossed the silver-tressed trainer's lips as a net of electricity shimmered around his opponent—the paralysis had set in. "I hate sacrificing my Pokemon like that," he snarled. "Swellow, Double Team—and then use Aerial Ace."

He smiled at the high-pitched wail of confirmation, and a faint white surrounded his Pokemon, splitting the creature into a dozen copies that dived down at the now trapped Pokemon. Steven raised his hand, about to call a command—but his brother was faster, the copies merging back into the original bird that plummeted into his enemy at an unbelievable speed.

"Fall back!" At the familiar voice, Swellow glided backwards smoothly, observing the damage dealt—while Aerial Ace hadn't done too much, the scratches on the beast's shell was evident. "Good job—now, use Boomburst at full power."

The dual-typed Pokemon answered with a prideful cry, raven wings folding in front as a white ball of light formed in between the powerful appendages. His body lit up in a cyan radiance, air seeming to ripple and distort from the sheer power.

With a strong flap, the bird released the sphere, the orb of energy stretching into a powerful, sickle-shaped sonic boom that exploded yet again into a blast of translucent, air-like substance, white waves of sound wrapped in the pillar of noise as it smashed into his opponent—a direct hit.

Metagross was beginning to tire now—both of them could see it. Swellow wouldn't last much longer too, having being beaten up by the hard exterior of his enemy's skin—and thus Ryou poured all his energy into a final attack. "Brave Bird," he ordered.

The Champion shoved his hands in his pocket, tilting his chin upwards. "Give it your all, Metagross," he encouraged. "Meteor Mash."

As the avian sped towards his nemesis in a blur of harsh sapphire light, blue flames cloaking his body, the Iron Leg Pokemon let out what sounded like a mangled growl, all four of his limbs folding upwards and glowing in a blinding shade of white.

To say that the clash of attacks was strong was a terrible understatement. The young teenager had to raise his arms to his face, trying to shield himself, but the shockwave swept through the area with a resounding clap and drove both trainers back a few feet.

When the trainer next dared to look, his heart plummeted—Metagross was beaten up, yes, but it hovered over an unconscious Swellow, stone-cold gaze swivelling to meet that of the Champion's as if seeking for his approval.

Turning away, he closed his eyes as he returned the fainted bird to his Pokeball for a rest. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "You did your best—that's all that mattered." His eyes had slid open to reveal a dull, glazed-over glance, and he kept the avian's Pokemon away, the action stiff and robotic.

Yet, Celeana could see his palms trembling, his heels rocking back and forth as he prepared to release his final Pokemon. They both knew that the battle was already lost—but there had been no forfeit rule, and neither of them wanted to face the consequences of losing.

"B—Beldum," he stammered, and his tone was blank, as if unable to comprehend the current situation—either that, or he was far too scared. He stared at the android-like Pokemon, amethyst eyes as glassy as the emotionless gaze the creature gave him. "You've trained by yourself, haven't you? Yet, I've never used you in a battle...I guess you can show me the results here."

As if on cue, the jet-like golem let out a metallic ping, body glowing in a soft hue of gentle white as its small frame grew into something resembling the Metagross at the other end. The ruby eye on its face duplicated and formed two red optics, shining through the evolution's light and directed at its trainer.

When the radiance cleared, the Metang gave his trainer yet another apathetic gaze, but its two large legs—more like spiked pillars—was ready for battle.

"Bulldoze," Ryou whispered, knowing that he had a current speed advantage with his opponent's paralysis—and his Pokemon complied, smacking the ground with such force that the ground rumbled—it was just like a weaker version of his Flygon's Earthquake.

No praise left the boy's lips, but the unspoken approval hung in the air between them—and, as if knowing what to do next, the Metang readied itself for a Dynamic Punch, a white wreath of light wrapping itself over a thick limb—but Steven had called a move beforehand.

"Bullet Punch." A smirk flashed across the man's face, and his steel-blue eyes radiated a firm air of control. Without any warning, the larger beast appeared at his Pokemon's side, delivering a quick jab to the creature's side—but thanks to the massive amount of natural power the Metagross wielded, it was more than enough to halt his attack.

"Metagross has to be tired from all those attacks it took..." A murmur left the boy's lips as hundreds of calculations overwhelmed his mind. If he could just deliver one solid attack, he could at least beat Steven's first Pokemon. "Dynamic Punch—"

The Champion just raised an arm to the sky, shooting an apologetic look at the now shocked boy before him. "Perhaps you could beat Metagross if it was in its normal state," he concluded. "However...Metagross, Mega Evolve and use Giga Impact."

A fearsome sheath of cyan hid the monster's details from view, and underneath that cloak, visible changes started to show—the beast was now even bigger, with arm-like protrusions replacing its legs and the silver cross evolving into a larger, gold-plated one.

With that, the Metagross ignored all signs of paralysis, flying across the battlefield and wreathing itself in a huge screen of peach and gold that no Pokemon could avoid—hell, Celeana wasn't sure if any Pokemon could even survive the attack.

A crashing noise drowned out any other sounds that challenged it—and the coordinator winced at the defeaning thud, peeking out through her fingers to glean the outcome of the battle.

Ryou supported himself on one knee, winded and letting out heavy breaths—it was then that she remembered that he was still injured from the Groudon in Celebi's timelines—and she rushed over, not concerned about his wound—instead, the wide-eyed stare that he held terrified her even more.

Both Pokemon lay on the ground, still and unmoving as swirls replaced the dull ruby of their eyes—but that wasn't the point. The silver-haired boy was frozen, not even daring to react as he heard the Champion's footsteps approaching him.

"You lose, Shion. Remember our bet."

• • •

The coordinator fidgeted in her seat at the back of the hall—the chair was plush and cushioned with velvet, warm against the air-conditioning of the venue—but she was still uncomfortable among the sea of faceless men and women donning much smarter clothing.

Steven had invited her to the seminar after the battle, and she'd agreed with great reluctance. Ryou had disappeared from her sight, having thrown a lousy excuse of memorising his script at her—and he'd texted her that he'd work something out.

Quinn hadn't wanted to go, and she didn't want the ginger-haired girl to dislike her even further—so she had given in, accompanying the child to the city's library and leaving her in Celebi's hands. She'd assumed that the Legendary could take care of her—after all, Ryou had done it before and nothing disastrous had happened.

If she were to be honest with herself, she wasn't even paying any attention—introductions and reports flew past in a blur, and she didn't remember anything of what had been said. She didn't take well to technical reports like that—it bored her.

"...next, we have a member and who is the proclaimed next heir to the company, Shion Stone, to give the general report for Devon Corporation." At this, she perked up, forcing herself to listen to the boy's speech.

The pale-haired teenager took a calm stroll up the stairs, appearing from the shadows and adjusting the microphone to his height. His usual black jacket had been replaced by a more official-looking blue one, one much more fancy and lined with gold.

"Good evening, everyone." A charismatic smile was pressed below his flushed cheeks as he beamed at the audience. He fingered a stack of papers in his other hand, but didn't even need to take a look at the notes. "As you may have heard, my name is Shion Stone, and I work in Devon Corporation."

She didn't miss the small slip in his even tone as he introduced himself—still, he kept his composure, speaking once again in that collected tone of his. "The company has showed a gradual rise in corporate revenue and income in the past few years. This year, however, Devon Corporation has had yet another breakthrough—"

Celeana felt herself zone out once again.

• • •

"Thus, I conclude my speech. Thank you for your attention." Ryou bowed his head, giving a final grin at the audience and walked offstage, disappearing into the concealing darkness once more.

She stifled a yelp as a cold hand grabbed hers, and she found herself staring into violet optics—eyes that were wide and told her to shut up. She settled for a mute nod, and the teenager dragged her out of her seat as quietly as he could, pointing towards an exit and directing them towards the door—somehow managing the feat in near silence.

Light flooded the corridor, but they still weren't in the clear yet—now understanding what he was trying to do, the coordinator opened a Pokeball and released Kirlia into the empty area.

"Teleport?" Seeing the trainer's affirmation, the elegant creature performed a slight curtsey. "Alright, then. I'll just get us outside—that should do." The dual-typed Pokemon placed her two hands on the duo's wrists, enveloping them in a white light and dissolving the group into thin air.

They found themselves in the patch of grass outside Fortree, and Kirlia grinned at them, muttering something about getting Quinn before disappearing.

"We're out," the trainer observed, peeling the thick blue coat off with a relieved expression and rolling it into a crumpled ball that was then discarded into his bag. He switched it for the black sweater which he had been accustomed to, giving her a smile. "Thank you."

His grin drooped, and she realised that the speech must have had taken a lot out of him—he'd been forced to speak the exact opposite of his mind, after all. His smile had been so real that she'd almost believed it again—and that was the biggest problem with him.

"Ryou..." Her voice trailed off, and she then realised that she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, but could you...leave me alone for a while?" The reply was halting. "I don't feel like lying any more today and saying that I'm OK, but I'll be fine, alright?"

"I'll ...be fine."

• • •

//when you get your computer back and you decide to go on a complete writing spree so you liTerAlly write 3.7k words in one sitting. *applauds self* Now to see my sorry soul off to its grave :^)

Ryou stop being angsty omg I swear I vent half of my bad moods on you I'm sorry cinnamon roll forgive me

Besides that, thank you SO MUCH for 6.3K reads and 832 votes! That's about a 300+ increase in reads :o My next goal is 847! :)

Critiques are most certainly welcome, and don't forget to read, vote and give your thoughts in the comments! Please be 100% honest!

~ nyxia ☆