Why can I never write on schedule?

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 8

Alas, it was not long to last. Only two days had passed, the people of Pallet barely returned to their homes, when the summons came from the Kanto governing council.

Even Green was stunned. His grandfather was adamant, but the evidence was clear. Due to the extensive damage that the three trainers had caused while battling Team Rocket in Silph Co., they had managed to halt the production of pokemon items in the Kanto region. They would have to import things from Houen until Silph got back on its feet, and the Rockets had stolen much of the design schematics for poke balls and potion recipes…. Now they would have to start from scratch.

Now, instead of heroes, they were scapegoats.

A sympathetic Professor Oak reclaimed their pokedexes, and they were barred from competing in the League Championships. Red was crushed.

Green weathered the storm slightly better, as he was more of a researcher than a battler, but even so…

It wasn’t fair!

Blue went to Johto. She could research more there, and in any case, it mattered little. She was never one to stay on the right side of the law for too long. She would adapt and survive.

As for Red, well… what was he to do? He could not appeal the ruling. He was lucky they did not confiscate his pokemon!

Why did they not punish Team Rocket? It wasn’t fair!

What was he to do now?

“Lance…”

Lance held his friend as he sobbed, stroking his dark hair and whispering nonsense words. It was truly vile to which depths petty humanity would sink. Team Rocket had clearly been the culprit, and yet, the innocents who had helped free the prisoners, whether for honor or glory or monetary gain, had done so, and instead of lavish reward they were deeply wounded.

The world was not a fair place, not at all… and Devon was all too ready to step in and take over Silph’s production.

If that happened, Houen would have an economical advantage over Kanto and Johto, which boded ill for the fate of the Indigo League.

Even so, was it fair to punish three kids?

Perhaps they were afraid of Team Rocket still. For the three gym leaders had escaped, and there was no sign of the mysterious Boss either. The bureaucrats were frightened. They were ready to make hasty decisions. Kanto had little military force.

If Houen invaded now, of all times…!

But Red was not thinking in terms of the big picture. Even if he had been, what of the few sacrificed for the good of the many? What of their feelings?

Are they less human than those their lives are paid to save?

The correct answer is no. The typical answer is ‘Feh, who cares about them as long as I live?’

Red said these, and many more, between his sobs. Lance did not bother to correct or contradict. It was not his place to do so. It was the advent of something greater, if only he could nurture Red’s hurting self towards his plan.

Red finally ran out of tears, and Lance made him rice porridge with red sugar in it, to replenish the blood loss caused by his injuries.

None of the three trainers had escaped unscathed. Their cuts and even broken bones had been unimportant in the course of the pitched battle. Only afterwards did they pay attention to their wounds.

Luckily, it was not too late, but it rankled.

Green managed to bury his resentment, by finding a new goal to focus on. He began taking lessons and helping his Grandfather with his fieldwork. Oak was much too old to go exploring, but Green was young, and his pokemon were strong.

It would work out eventually.

“I hate them.” Red whispered, as Lance fed him spoonful by spoonful. He drank the entire bowl without complaint, feeling exhausted. Of course he was tired. He was still injured from Saffron, and then to receive this announcement on top of everything else…!

Wounds of the heart on top of wounds of the body caused grievous hurt indeed.

Lance nodded, and let him sleep, and put him to bed, and fixed nutritious medicines for him, soup of pig’s blood, spinach mixed with fresh egg yolks, tea of longan and red dates and red hawthorn, mixed with honey…

Red ate everything Lance served him without complaint, though he did raise his eyebrows at a few of the dishes. Still, it was nice to be at home, and to be coddled…

It was almost like having a mother.

Red’s parents had died early on, but for some reason, the League had never gotten around to deciding what to do with him. So he had lived off microwave and instant foods for a long time, up to and including his journey. On the road, he had learned a bit, toasting hot dogs over a fire was not too difficult…

Lance came in with another bowl of odd things. Red pushed himself up in bed, with a slight grimace. He did not know why he still felt so weak, but it mattered little.

Perhaps he had been running high on energy so long that he had finally crashed.

Lance had made him chicken in sesame oil with a side of leeks. It was tasty, though he vaguely remembered his mother making it. He shrugged and helped himself, as Lance smiled and brought him ginger soup to finish the meal.

He was getting better, but very slowly. As long as he did not think about the Pokemon League, he did not hurt. If he did, he got horrible headaches.

He sipped hot tea slowly, and then Lance smiled and told him to go back to sleep, so he did.

< You’re quite good at this. > Agatha said, as she watched Lance cook. < Did you study the culinary arts? >

< Only in secret. > Lance answered, as he checked his simmering porridge. It would be ready in a few hours. Chunks of brilliant orange yam bobbed up and down amidst the pale rice grains.

< So you’re only feeding him warm foods? >

< It seems the best. I fed him the spinach just in case I overdid it, but I think it’s going rather well. >

< That’s good. > Agatha leaned on her staff. < What luck! We could not have planned it better ourselves. >

< Do you wish Green would join you? He is your grandson after all. >

Agatha shrugged. < Only a little. And we still have time. I do not know him well enough to wish for his… affections. >

< You keep saying that, Agatha. Have you found an answer? >

< I believe so. You see; I found this most intriguing machine in the ruins of Silph Co… it seems to amplify the energy of the Gym badges. >

< Then my trip there was not wasted. > Lance returned. Hearing footsteps approach, Agatha vanished. Red wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

You shouldn’t be up yet, Red. How are you feeling? He jotted down on his ever-present notepad. Red took the note and smiled.

“I’m better, Lance. Can I have some more tea?”

Just a moment, Red. He adjusted the flame on the stove, and then poured Red another mug of raspberry tea.

Red nodded, and padded to the couch. He wrapped himself in a blanket, and flipped open a magazine.

End Chapter

Completed 6/6/06

I find it kind of funny that Red remarks he’s lucky that Green’s pokemon didn’t eat him. And poor Red! When he finally gets his pokemon back from Green in book 2, they’re all evil and scary!

And… yeah, I’m ¼ Chinese. So I like reading about Chinese medicine and stuff. And the food is Chinese too…