Atarashii chapter~!

Disclaimer: Pokemon belongs to Nintendo and Shogakukan Comics. This non-profit, non-copyright infringing fanfiction belongs to me under international copyright laws and taking it is plagiarism. Thank you. *Phantomness bows*

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, italics if a pokemon talks

Chapter 6

 

            “Do you love me?”

            “Do I what?”

            “Do you love me?”

            “Do I love you…?”

 

            “What’s that?” Lance wandered into the living room, a glass of water in hand.

            Red grinned. “It’s a musical called Fiddler on the Roof. It’s pretty interesting.” He paused the television and shrugged. “I wonder what will happen now.”

            Lance nodded. Oak had given his speech to the Kanto Council of Elders. It was up to them what would happen.

            The signs were already beginning to show. Several trainers had been admitted to Saffron General hospital in the past weeks claiming attacks from wild pokémon. The injuries had been sufficiently serious to garner national attention.

            An ill wind was blowing into the region.

            Red was not sure what to do.

 

            “I need a hero… a hero to save me on the darkest night… when the ocean heaves and the stars have lost their light….”

            It would be a starless, moonless night for many nights to come.

            The pokemon were not constrained by normal limits. Hunger drove them out of the forests and grasslands and bodies of water until they invaded the towns, destroying everything in sight with flame and rock….

            Lance and Ash watched, barricaded inside the house in Pallet, gaping at the wanton destruction.

            They had never seen anything like it before…

            Lance was worried about the implications. Would they be stranded here? As long as there was still running water, he would be all right, but if the lines ever got cut….

            Dehydration was a horrible way to die.

            Red was very glad that he had reinforced the house with everything he could think of. The exterior shell was taking a beating, but inside, they were safe for now…. How long would it last though?

 

            Lance looked panicked, his eyes were wide and he was mumbling something under his breath. Red winced. Was Lance claustrophobic? He had never bothered to inquire and now it might be too late…

            “Are you all right, Lance?”

            The trainer gave his friend a startled look, before nodding. “I’m fine.”

            “You look scared.”

            “I am simply worried about what may happen.”

            Red blinked.

            “What if the water lines or the power goes out?”

            “Oh….” He hadn’t thought that far again. If that were the case, he had Pika to power his electricity in an emergency but… what to do about water. He saw Lance’s point.

            “You’re so observant, Lance.”

            The older teen laughed. “Maybe it is just more experience.”

            He could hardly argue against that logic. Red nodded and they continued to watch the devastation going on outside. The window was cleverly concealed and looked like part of a solid wall, but they needed a way to see outside.

            It was horrible. Red quit watching after a few minutes, having seen a normally docile Ponyta smash open the head of an unfortunate civilian and begin messily devouring the corpse’s limbs.

            That was enough for him. So he let Lance do the observing several times a day.

 

            It was three weeks into the siege when the water lines broke.

            Lance did not panic, but he did slip sleeping pills into Red’s milk and after the boy had fallen asleep, he had ventured outside.

            The wild pokemon would pay his blood no heed, as lost as they were, but unlike Red, he could protect himself. And so he walked down the path to the sea, noting carcasses of human and pokemon alike, some bloated, others starved, scattered over the path. Those that got food ate until they could eat no more and often ate themselves to death, those that had no food starved or were driven off by stronger ones. There was so much death…

            The ocean was in sight and he luxuriated in the feel of the water, letting himself rest for several hours. He had Gyarados to protect him and the water serpent loved fresh meat after all…

            When he returned, Red was still sleeping so he fixed them fresh-caught salmon from the ocean and watched as Red fumbled his way towards coherency. Their supply of food was running quite low, despite all the canned food Red had stored here.

            He idly wondered where the boy’s parents were, or if they still lived to begin with. Most likely not…

 

            “Lance?” Red murmured sleepily.

            “Yes, Red?”

            “Why am I so tired?”

            “You’ve been stressed, and your body was at its limits.” He said simply. “Being cooped up here is horrible, isn’t it?”

            Red had to agree. He sniffed the air and blinked at the sight of the salmon. “You went outside? Lance, it’s dangerous out there!”

            “I had Gyarados to protect me. Besides, it’s quite calm. I didn’t see a living pokemon.”

            “And you got dinner.”

            “Mm.” Lance nodded. “We can both go tomorrow, get some food. This might just be a calm period in the storm.”

            “Sounds good to me.” Red colored. Where to get food? Well, he’d had supplies before, and they’d always been able to go to pokemon marts, but now…

            He knew that you could eat wild mushrooms and lichen and had a few times on his journey, but the thought of actually having to actively hunt for food was a new one.

            He’d have to adapt. He was pretty good at that. But being locked up was horrible. No wonder people went mad during wars.

            This was a war too, wasn’t it?

            Red sighed and closed his eyes, before digging into the salmon with an expression of rapture. After days of canned beans and corn, he would give anything to see fresh food, even if it wasn’t what he was used to…

            At least the grasslands and woods around Pallet hadn’t suffered too much… he hoped. He’d get to see it tomorrow!

           

End Chapter

Completed 2/24/06

Started 2/22/06

Red is only 13, so bear with him.

Any references to war, alcohol, and general sickness of the mind are probably from “Ceremony” by Leslie Mormon Silko. That is the book I am currently being forced to read for my American Cultures class.