Chapter Seven: I Don't Understand

The darkness was interrupted as a crackle brought her pitch-black surroundings to life.

Celeana raised her head warily, and she was met with the sight of something resembling a shard of looking glass, nearly invisible against its dark backdrop—she'd just managed to spot it through the thin lines on its edges that proved its existence.

She stared into the broad belt of silver and black brocade, inspecting how it was more like a crystalline stream than a mirror. There was a foreign splotch of blinding white that hung behind her like a moon, and the teenager nodded to herself as she realised just why she was able to see the reflection in front of her.

The trainer reached out to touch the silky surface, but recoiled as searing pain shot through her palm like a branding iron. She jumped back on instinct, startled, and watched as the exterior rippled, the liquid-like mirror curling and causing the light to distort, the tiny crest glittering like a burst of white flame.

The teenager blinked and stared through the reflector, inspecting the blue-haired girl that sat opposite her, the two of them separated by nothing but a paper-thin wall.

The figure in the mirror copied her every movement—her every idle twitch, it seemed—and that shouldn't have worried her because she was just a reflection. Her reflection mirrored her movements.

It was basic knowledge that she had learnt before.

Yet, there was something off about the clone in the looking glass.

Instead of the pale amber that tinted her eyes and made her look like she was wide awake at all times, the brightness in her once clear eyes had disappeared. The girl staring at her through the glass looked almost dead.

Her eyes were half-open, and what had once been mercury was now a dull plum, lacking any trace of empathy. She had all the emotion of wet concrete, her facial muscles just as loose—there was no anger, no sadness, no joy or resentment.

"I don't get your world," the teenager opposite her lamented, her lips moving in a dramatic manner—almost as if she was trying and failing to project sadness into her voice.

Still, Celeana sat up straighter, not just surprised by her speech but the very tone—it was the exact same as the snide voice that had whispered in her ear and dragged her into this damned prison of darkness. "What do you mean?"

Her reflection spoke once again, face slack and dreary eyes jaded, as if her tired self was commenting on the many great sins of the world.

"I mean, why has Arceus decided on this?" As she spoke, a globe appeared in her hand, the radiance emitted from its very core enough to seep up every lick of darkness.

The teenager peered into the glittering prism, confused when she saw nothing but a lush scenery of a meadow—the very same meadow she had met her Ralts in earlier that day. It was as beautiful as she had remembered; however, the girl sitting across her seemed unmoved by the scene.

"Why did he even bother to create this thing called 'uniqueness?'" The figure tilted her head as she made the question, her face finally contorting in a comprehensible expression—contempt. "This just creates so much trouble."

All of a sudden, the girl reached a hand through the mirror, using a cold, delicate finger to tap Celeana's chin, tilting the trainer's head upwards.

The blue-tressed coordinator stared at her counterpart, paralysed with fear and utter bewilderment. The terror coursing through her veins with each heartbeat froze her in place— it curled around her limbs like shackles, taking the form of an invisible knife that twisted in her gut.

"You won't be able to see it, though." Celeana's reflection sighed as she broke away from the contact, eyes spiralling into a desolate black. "You're too naive."

She gestured to the globe that sat in her palm. "Being different brings about all this sadness. People lose, people get disappointed, and people get hurt."

The glassy-eyed expression returned, the teenager blinking at her in a look of absolute boredom. "I guess I can't tell you everything now," she sighed, casting her indigo-hued gaze to the ground. "I'll just show you this story little by little, then."

"Wait," Celeana called breathlessly. "What do you—"

She was interrupted as the delicate girl opposite her started to fade, her figure melting into a thick mass of blurred smoke.

The last she saw of her reflection was a vacant, vacuous-eyed stare that seemed to pierce through her soul like a sharpened knife, mouth parting into what seemed like an empty smile.

Then, images flashed rapidly in the trainer's mind, the snapshots as countless as the innumerable branches of a hundred-year oak tree.

Celeana didn't recognise any of the scenes playing out in front of her eyes.

Dark gold and black flashing at the corner of her amber optics, the feeling of light-hearted happiness bubbling inside and a sleek figure glancing at her with dusky emerald eyes.

A faint thrill racing through the heart, a vision of the Creator himself, Arceus, staring at a shadowed, unknown shape, dark orbs shimmering with unspoken elation.

And as the Legendary Pokemon walked forward, hurrying towards the veiled form opposite him, the colours in front of her starting to blur together into thick stripes.

Soon enough, she was left with a blinding white.

• • •

Letting out a choked gasp, the blue-haired girl sat up, her back arching bolt upright as she took in the cheery greens of her surroundings.

Celeana carefully inspected the black-clad man with newfound surprise. The poacher was in an unfortunate state; he lay unconscious in the meadow they had battled in, body sprawled over a carpet of bloodstained grass.

Crimson liquid trickled in a thin line from the thief's mouth, his eyes closed and jaw slack. The coordinator's heart skipped a beat for a split-second, palpitating as she thought that he might be dead, but that concern was shelved when she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest.

The girl relaxed, biting her lip to calm herself down. She smiled wryly when she saw a terrified Froakie and Ralts amidst the chaos that her mind had presented, stumbling to her feet to retrieve her two Pokemon.

However, just as she was able to reach the small creatures, a dark shadow loomed over her, and Celeana found herself staring straight into the furious obsidian eyes of the poacher's Breloom.

The Pokemon let out a low growl, swishing its thick tail in a threatening manner that caused her confidence to sway and plummet at an alarming rate. The long appendage glowed white, radiating pure power as the beast slammed its tail into the ground, causing the trainer to be thrown back.

She glanced up, aware of the crack in the newly-split floor just inches away, and gave her trapped Pokemon a helpless stare.

Why? She was barely able to keep a grip on herself, desperate anxiety screaming at her to do something, to do anything that would lessen the danger. But she was frozen—some cruel sickness twisting inside her, her mind a choppy sea of confusion from which the cruel, lucid intervals poked up like rock shoals.

The Breloom let out another cry, this time raising its fist to strike at her. She clenched her fists, closing her eyes and hoping that her actions would at least lessen the pain.

The agony she'd been expecting never came.

She opened her eyes once more, hazy surroundings clearing to see the Pokemon standing over her gone, crashing to the side as a large, black blur landed a graceful assault of attacks on its body.

The indistinct shape didn't falter one bit—it rose into the air, spreading a pair of large, feathered wings and revealing a pair of sharp eyes.

The Swellow screeched in defiance, halting in midair as if it was waiting for instructions.

Celeana turned around curiously, noticing the teenager standing at the entrance of the clearing and looking over the situation with an amused expression.

He raised an eyebrow at the Breloom, pale hair now dark by the shadowed canopy that loomed above him.

"You may be strong, but you have no strategy whatsoever."

He raised a hand, signalling his Pokemon to attack. The avian did so gladly—with a battle cry, it tucked its wings into a streamlined position, diving at its opponent with the perfect display of controlled power. The avifauna avoided the Pokemon's counter with ease, angling itself to slip past its arm and drive its entire body straight into the Breloom's stomach.

With an outraged exclamation of agony, the Breloom stepped back, heaving in pain and winded from the blow that it had taken.

It charged at the short boy and his Pokemon, but he just laughed, calling out a command to dodge. The beast under his control complied  evading the succession of Mach Punches that his opponent had thrown at it in a fit of anger.

"Now..." Ryou clicked his tongue, and a playful grin spread across his face. "It's not good to take others' Pokemon, you know."

He peered up at the Swellow circling overhead, waiting for yet another instruction. "Supersonic," he called in that airy tone of his, and his Pokemon complied straight away.

The creature let out a ear-splitting screech, wave after wave of high-pitched sound filling the area. Celeana felt her head start to throb and spin, and she clamped her hands over her ears to block out the terrifying noise.

The Breloom, however, wasn't so lucky.

The dual-typed Pokemon had no chance to block out the sound, and let out a twisted screech of its own. Soon after, it swayed, stumbling around like a drunkard and staring at the silver-haired boy with bleary, harmless eyes.

Ryou gave his Swellow a brisk nod, and the Pokemon didn't hesitate to oblige to its trainer's silent command. The beast swooped into the sky, great wings holding it aloft as it rained an assault of merciless Aerial Aces on its now-dazed opponent.

And as the Breloom landed on the floor, knocked out from the storm of super-effective moves that it had taken, the silver-tressed trainer inspected his work.

"Hm." He returned his Pokemon, tossing yet another Pokeball into the air. A Larvesta landed on the ground, and Ryou flashed it a quick smile. "String Shot, if you don't mind."

"Larv, Larvesta." The bug-like creature bobbed his head up and down, and a thick length of gossamery thread spewed from his mouth, wrapping the man and his Breloom in thick swatches of the surprisingly sturdy fibres.

He then took out a handphone, dialling a number and holding the device to his ear. "Hello?" Ryou's voice was flippant, as if the situation had never happened. "There's a poacher in the forest near Verdanturf. Don't worry, I've subdued them already."

There was a pause as the silver-haired trainer listened to the person at the other end of the line. "Got it. Thank you!"

With that, he hung up, turning to see Celeana freeing her two Pokemon from their bonds. The coordinator gave a sigh of relief, checking over the duo for injuries and whispering comforting words to her Froakie.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are they OK?"

The teenaged girl replied with a quiet nod, setting her Froakie on the ground. The prideful creature turned away at once, cheeks dusted a furious red from utter embarrassment. She bit her lip, deciding to ignore the hostility that was shown to her and instead returning the frog-like creature to its Pokeball.

Picking the unconscious Ralts up, she gave the boy opposite her a tight smile. "Thanks for helping."

"No problem," Ryou replied, but the look in his sharp violet eyes were nonchalant, as if he was just barely acknowledging her prescence. "Since you're fine now, I should get going."

Celeana's heart resounded in her ears with limp thuds, and she sucked in a huge mouthful of air, but her actions didn't help to calm her mind.

The thoughts accelerated inside her head. She wanted them to slow so she could just breathe but they wouldn't. Her breaths come in hushed gasps and she felt strangely disconcerted, dark spots dancing at the edges of her vision. Her heart hammered inside her chest like it belonged to a rabbit running for its skin.

Helpless. Lonely. Panic.

She didn't know Ryou that well—in fact, she'd just met the silver-tressed boy twice, but he was the only person in Hoenn that she was acquainted with in the slightest

She was lonely. And she was lonely in some unexplainable, deep way and for a flash of an instant, she could see just how deep that feeling ran. It scares the hell out of her to be this alone because it seemed almost catastrophic, the booming of her heart preventing all other noises from reaching her frenzied mind.

It was strange—the lengths that she would go to just to lose that helpless, caged feeling, that was.

"Wait!" Her desperate call caused the trainer to turn around, a questioning look forming in his aubergine eyes. "I—well, uh..."

"What is it?" He drawled out his words, his signature carefree tone creeping into his voice.

She averted her gaze, hoping that he would at least take the following sentence with more seriousness. "I hate being alone. It makes me panic beyond what you could imagine, so—" She toyed with the ends of her skirt, her voice dropping to a weak whisper. "I'd like to travel with you for the time being. If that's alright with you."

Ryou blinked, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. "We've barely met."

"I know," Celeana groaned out. "But you're the one person I even know here."

There was a short moment of fretful tranquility before the silver-haired boy flashed her another one of his torpid smiles. "Well, maybe." He dragged out his words with a careful draw, tone gaining an added element of haughty arrogance. "If you bow to me, peasant."

The blue-haired girl felt the irresistible urge to snap back at the teenager, but that wasn't her top priority right now.

She knelt with great reluctance, curling her head forward and touching her forehead to the muddy ground. Her cheeks burned from embarrassment and her mind was scattered like that of a scared rabbit—she wanted nothing more than to kill the boy right now.

His playful expression morphed into one of surprise, and when Celeana looked up again, she saw a hand being offered to her.

Grudgingly, she took the teenager's hand, pulling herself up and giving him an apathetic stare. His expression was apologetic, and the smile on his face was genuine.

"Hey, I was just joking," Ryou stated. "You didn't have to take it seriously."

Celeana just nodded, feeling her face burn a bright scarlet.

"Well, Celeana, ready to go to Verdanturf?"

She put aside her plans to straight-out murder Ryou in the future—after all, he had accepted her rather sudden request—and her face broke into a grin, the corners of her mouth curving upwards.

"Yeah."

• • •

aHHHhHhhHH I was planning to update on Wednesday, but exams got in the way and I could hardly write anything.

Ryou's back (wHOOP Demoniscy) and he's being a lil' shit. As usual. And uhhh I already like Celeana's reflection more than her. Says a lot about my love for my OCs.

Besides that, thank you SO MUCH for 1.1K reads and 195 votes! That's about a 150+ increase in reads :o My next goal is 210! :)

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

~ nyxia ☆