T-Minus 1 Month and 1 Week and 3 Days?
Reality didn't come in with a snap, nor faded back in, as that would imply he was conscious enough to distinguish between everyday blackness and waking. It only happened that at some point, he realized that a severe amount of pain had overtaken his senses. Every molecule of water seemed to be carving a knife through the ridges of skin he didn't know existed previously. Multiple muscles that he didn't even know the name for were undulating from the splash. His eyes were burning from being kept open underwater.
Most importantly, he recognized the burning. An animal in his head thrashed. Something was moving and he wasn't the one doing it. Recognition came in stages, completely unordered: after the pain was an itch underneath his tailbone, then the uncomfortable feeling of water budging down his ears, to his body moving without prompting. Finally control came with his fingers clenching down into his palm.
Jolting his head above the current took an agonizing flex, but he was able to wrest it from the heavy hand that had been grappling him, vindictively scooping in one last cup of water before letting him breathe. His chest had been converted into a waterskin. As he floated down deeper into the cave, he alternated between trying to replace all the air that he missed out on and coughing out the pin pricks. Sliding around in sudden movements yanked his awareness. He recognized that every second was a fight to keep conscious.
The pull blanked out the cave. The next waking moment, there was a feeling that was choking out whatever air that managed to slide down the ocean that he'd swallowed. Sloshing made him recognize that his neck wasn't working right. One way to the other it was pulled along from something that wrapped around his neck. Waving his hands around didn't produce enough force to raise from the water.
He recognized the energy leaving as his legs, previously kicking, slowed down like a propeller that had been turned off. His chest decompressed. Everything dulled—emotions, color. Floating above the water was keeping him up but he didn't think that any salvation would be in himself. The lights on the paths became subdued as the ceiling, chiseled as a stormy ocean's frothy wake, became dimmer. Worse still was the awful familiarity; time ceased to exist as he was trapped in a reincarnating loop of bitter nostalgia. Caresses against his cheek felt like a soft farewell.
Another pull reminded his trachea that it regretted existing. Soft chittering came from behind. The recognition brought back details. The skin that pressed against his neck. The shallowest necks of the river rubbing against his heel. Suddenly everything became brighter.
The scythe that carved into his clothes hooked into the back like a clothespin. Though her strength could contest body builders during her good days, it was hardly enough to awkwardly drag around a weight that quickly sank into itself. She didn't have the supernatural strength to guide them back to the nearest shore. All that she could manage was keeping them afloat.
Saving another person that he was quite fond of (because no matter what, there was a faith she was no less than an equal) unlocked the last bit of energy that was still stored in the back room of his body. Another bout of flailing fought against the aggressive current. Blindly he guided the boat, too tired to spin around. Generally they moved into a direction, until the muscle hanging onto his shirt turned taut. They anchored on a stalagmite that poked above the dark fabric. Her claw fiercely stabbed into the rock. A yank, and they were still. Not long from the shore, she pushed off, the momentum carrying them towards a rocky quilt that substituted for a sandy beach. Crevices like the pit of an apricot ran along the edge—thousands of years cleaved over as she deeply dug inside.
From there though was unknown to her. She didn't have the strength to pull him up and he didn't have the strength to pull himself up. That's what she believed before his hand stretched out. His fingers slid around until they found dry rock. With a deep breath preparing for the pain, he pushed against the rock and felt sparks dancing around his brain. Gasping sloshed the water still stuck down his throat. After resting his head for a moment, he hoisted them up. It was somehow colder than the water.
The few weak sputters that reignited the hearth lit in his chest made him lean back and forth like a turtle. He eventually had enough momentum to hike himself onto his shoulder. Gravity carried his leaning weight the rest of the path. Slightly burrowing his knees and elbows into the rock brought him to an arch, and his lungs took that as permission to turn inside out. Lulu gently patted his back as he coughed out everything that had snaked down into his airways. While the pain took its time to subside, he glanced around at the new situation that they'd gotten themselves into: black. It was all black. Even the deceptively stolid water was barely louder than a leaky tap and seemed just as solid as the rock; their brief excursion may have exceeded the average decibels that violated the cave's innards over an entire week. The pokédex fumbled out of his pocket, clattering against the hard surface. It took a little shaking before it started booting up.
Blinding white enveloped his face and cleaned some of the cavern's murkiness. The river they'd been following led into a sump, which made him even more grateful that Lulu got lost alongside him. Any later and he would've been dragged beneath the rapids. The first steps up were staggered, each twist of his sole obviously his balance recentering as his wobbling vision tried centering on a horizon. One of his hands reluctantly pulled away from a wall that he'd used to brace himself to cup around his mouth.
"HEY! I LIVED! YOU BETTER BE GONE BY THE TIME I GET BACK OR YOUR JACKET WON'T BE THE ONLY THING THAT'S RED!" Kane whooped, coughed, jumped around, circled around Lulu, who was holding a blade over her eyes in embarrassment. One cough led to him sucking in more saliva, starting a whole coughing fit.
He fell down on his butt. The pain that lanced through his body actually created a whirlwind of spots that cycled around his whole vision. Dizzy, he closed his eyes until the world started making sense again. Yellow and purple textures swimming behind his eyelids gave a vague topography of the riverbed, a place of millenia-old scars hidden beneath a deadly current that created new tragedies. The sum of his spelunking skills (none) worked together to determine that screaming wasn't the smartest thing to do in hindsight since it told every Zubat where he was standing—so he ignored that he did that. Didn't happen. Nothing happened and anybody who heard a voice was the crazy one.
Fight left through lukewarm droplets that ran down from his lips to his butt. Bloody taste tests pooled around his teeth. It was another reminder. Eyes clenched shut, wondering if the world was mocking him. Again the sensation of another person there with him reminded there was a mountain, there was a floor, there were the cuts on his skin and his blood in the river, there were the people around him and the thing that resided in himself, there was radiance which couldn't fool even the most incredulous critic—"sacre bleu, this place came out half-cooked! The gooey flesh and crusty skin comes apart from the lightest prodding of my fork. Audiences would find sniffing their seat to provide a more palatable experience. It's raw! Send it back to the butcher, chop it up and then get a priest for its last rites because this meat has been wasted!" they'd say, which made him laugh as he thought about it.
"Lulu. Did you get knocked down too?" A thumb reached up to feel her head shaking. "You jumped?"
Without finishing the nod, lips pressed against the back of her head. If he had more energy then she would've spun around. If he had more energy then he would've spoken louder. Calming down made the pain fade into the background. Resting made his knees shake. Everything shook. Coldness took hold as a reminder there was still yet more strength to lose.
"Don't you understand? There's nothing there. If I opened my eyes there'd be an illusion of a mountain and an illusion of the cold. Your cute little head isn't the horizon, nor is my nose; my eyes aren't the horizon either, as absurd as that sounds." His lips pressed against the back of her head again, though she was much less thrilled this time. "Every rock was avoided when I fell, and we had escaped the second that the river would've swallowed me whole. I would've died instantly otherwise, you know. I want—I don't know what I want. But it's fine. I'll learn. Maybe I'll—I don't know, make friends with Anabel; I always thought she looked cool. Maybe Red will come back and forgive me. No, he'd apologize for freaking out over things that weren't that serious. I-I don't know anything about that kind of thing, but maybe she'll—you think that she'll eventually—she'd have to take the lead but since my own mistakes don't matter? They're not mistakes then…"
He grew too embarrassed to continue. Maybe it was his own reluctance to admit it out loud or maybe it was the eyes that peered over her shoulder. They were worried, and he couldn't help but plant another kiss at the center of her forehead. She was worried because she would leap over a cliff to save him. From the beginning to the end, Kane truly believed that she was his little pink guardian angel.
Light snaps from the cavern soothed him back into action. Eventually he hobbled onto his legs with a worried Lulu herding him with her blades when he tried standing at the river's edge. An adult would've been forced to bend down to climb around with the ceiling being so low. As it was, the very tip of Kane's head bumped against the tiny stalactite teeth. Mounds of silt made the cramped conditions even worse.
The rest of the cavern wasn't all that interesting compared to the well-traveled parts. There were multiple branches, little valleys carved into the ground that used to have tiny rivers themselves that declined at an almost vertical angle. The walls were so tight in some that he would've fit like a puzzle piece in them; in Kane's opinion, that was the most terrifying thing in the world and he'd never be convinced to climb down one of those. Pillars narrowed and widened around the river, working in tandem with the aforementioned silt mounds to make traveling back upstream a difficult process. Straying from the river didn't seem to be a great idea either as his pokédex gave a good view of his shoes and not much further.
Walking by the river kept making him nearly slip, each time getting saved by Lulu. After checking himself over with the pokédex out of curiosity, he considered himself pretty lucky considering that he'd been probably a yay bit off from splattering. The worst feelings were in his lungs (no duh) and his ankle, which felt like it was slightly off kilter. Everything else remained a body-shaped bruising that would fade with time that he wished would fast-forward. Somehow worse than himself was his clothes that had been shredded by some combination of sharp rocks and Lulu's claws. The trenchcoat was a goner, as were the remaining maps that he hadn't sold yet. Double-checking the pockets made him sigh in relief when he felt the familiar bumps of his merchandise still there.
At some point the walls actually did close fully around the river so that he had to sidle past them. The walls closed around the river so that going past it was physically impossible. Thankfully it was barely the thickness of a normal dividing wall that served to individuate rooms. He knew that it was easy. The worst that could happen was slipping and falling back into the river. With his body shuddering from the pain and cold, he assumed that would just instantly kill him, so basically the worst thing that could happen is that he instantly dies; not too bad.
It took a second to hype himself up before walking forwards. Both palms brushed against the surface. Harsh, slightly grainy like the fake handholds in a rock climbing place. Shining the light on the other side showed that there were indeed things on the other side. A flashlight mode, he noted to himself, would be mentioned as a suggestion.
"Grab my leg," he said. Lulu complied, holding onto his foreleg and crouching low.
He hugged the wall, chest pressing against the bumpiest part of it. Awkwardly his leg looked around. It was a game of surgery, bumping his poor toe against slick surfaces until it finally found purchase. Putting pressure down made it stick. His other hand started searching around for somewhere to grab onto.
Something flew out of the water and smacked against his leg before splashing back down. He curiously looked down as if he could see through the dark marble. Dismissing it, he went back to straddling the rock.
Another thing smacked his back. Lurantis made distressed noises, almost sounding pleading. Kane tried ignoring it because that usually worked with things that were uncomfortable. Finally he found a place where three fingers (the center ones, the center of power) could latch onto. It felt like grooves were purposely shaped to yank on a hidden lever.
It smacked against the back of his head, forcing him forwards against the wall he was lovingly holding. It sounded like stepping on a snail. Blood trickled into the water as just another ache joined in with the symphony.
"...okay," Kane said slowly, somewhat nasally, unwrapping himself from the wall and backing away from shore. Something warm was running down his lips.
Furious at her trainer's injury, Lulu swiped her claws into the water. One splashed first, nearly reaching the ceiling. Another showed up its brother by smashing into the ceiling. Then an entire school turned the cave momentarily orange. Their combined weight upended what must've been enough water to coat a field, soaking the two of them just as they were getting dry. One landed next to his feet, flapping about uselessly. A Magikarp.
"...okay," Kane said. He kicked the fish back into the water and looked to Lulu. "So remember those people that I just screamed a threat to? Think they're gone now? 'Cause it'd look really pathetic if I was screaming for help after being all cool and stuff."
All the Magikarp in the river jumped again. Many of them bumped against each other. They collided with the rocks. A few landed on the shore. Most of the image was unknowable to the two as they relied on the pokédex's light to reveal just a scant portion of the river. Lulu could tell that an army marched from the blast beats of their bodies drumming against the water. The splash zone was indiscriminate. All over them, the pokédex (waterproof! he'd promised when selling it, and the device loyally continued running), and the already moist rocks surrounding the river got another healthy smattering of water. If the wall they needed to get around wasn't soaked before, it was now, and he wasn't about to try climbing around it. Lurantis shook her entire body like a dog while the human just sighed in resignation.
"It's not often that people are this deep within the mountain. I assume that it's not entirely willing that you've found yourselves here."
Both of them jumped from the sudden voice and spun around. A lady was hunched so far that she had lost a few inches of her height. Garbed in a white robe, the sputtering light of the pokédex gave her an ethereal quality compared to the layers of dust and dirty water that surrounded them.
Kane stuck a pinkie in his ear to dig out whatever was blocking his hearing. "Heh?"
"The explosion has made the dragons restless." The woman walked to the water's edge. A cane hanging by a leather strap was unstrung, its tip poking into the river. "Your screaming hasn't done it any favors. Fortunately for you, I'm here. They won't attack you as long as I do not permit it."
"You need to stop talking so quietly," Kane yelled.
The woman glanced down at his pokémon before nodding. With a snap, a shade popped out from behind her. Neither of the two had time to react before a powerful limb picked them up. Coarse scales rubbed roughly on Kane's raw skin. He could feel the pokémon's grip tightening as they spun down the tunnel.
To avoid anybody from colliding at mach one and creating the world's first underground crater, they had to spin around to avoid all the intersections where they'd be turned into fish food. Kane felt his stomach wobbling as they did an unnecessary 360 to avoid a small outcropping rock. Wind battered against his face and g-forces battled against his extraneous parts that weren't clamped down by the chubby limb. Lulu wasn't much better, though at least she was much smaller to avoid her organs feeling like they were spaghettifying. Smacking her blades against the orange skin did nothing. By the end of their flight, her pride was the thing that ached the most.
No ceremony was prepared when both of them were dropped. They skidded on a soft patch of dirt that was exposed to sunlight. Lulu picked herself up and spun around, trying to catch a glance at their ride, only to see a hint of orange diluted into the cave's dusk. She huffed in irritation, trying to ignore her trainer barfing next to the exit.
Kane unsteadily raised up, deep breaths making his throat convulse in sympathy for his flooded nostrils.
"Does the school give insurance you think?" he asked, then thought about it. "Erika?" He thought better. "Oak?"
Another round of puke made Lurantis once again turn her attention away.
T-Minus 1 Month and 1 Week and 3 Days?
Feet kicked against the desk lightly. He bobbed to an invisible beat in his head. Sitting down next to the receptionist's fortress allowed him to be more of a pill than he'd normally have the opportunity to do. Lulu ignored the faux pas as she was much too focused on the petaya berry held gently between both scythes. Delicious bitterness flowed through her tongue much stronger than the most burnt coffee.
Finally, as a reprieve, the receptionist said, "your call should be ready over in booth 4."
"Thanks!" Kane said, walking over to the booth.
The world just wasn't on the level of technology that he was spoiled with. Paying a toll to connect with systems barely present in Kanto felt horrible. Initially he'd been expecting that it would be a literal rotary phone provided, but rejoice! A full system without the wall of plugs and levers thumb-shaped, sticking out giving you the hardest choice of your life: to casually flick or to delicately hold between two fingers and pull; and the lady herself didn't have the poofy hair with a dress that ended in a flowing, modesty-preserving lampshade or a tighter tube that he thought clenched the lady's legs too tightly. The woman instead wore a blouse and skirt made of the same material, blues so pastel that they belonged in a children's cartoon subtly tracing out waves from a traditional Japanese painting across her body.
Looking closer would give a person smarter than him a migraine, he decided. There he was in an international call center with monitors that seemed decades ahead of the dinky LED screens that he remembered, a girl dressed in clothing modern decades ago that evoked a past that may have not been so distant from these people. Voila! There it was, a mostly sound-proof line of cute, pink cubicles that looked like bathroom stalls. He was short enough that feet poked out from beneath the other doors. His own tiny ones shuffled past the number 4 and shut the door behind him.
"Good thing that we have something a little more classy, eh? I was thinking that we'd be talking into a stone. Hehe! I'm glad!"
She didn't answer. Each bite of the berry sent her to another world.
Thankfully the initial impression that most of the injuries were superficial was correct. First was the sting of the vomit that faded with a good R&R session with the same river that tried to devour him; then at some point he realized that the muted world was slowly returning sound, which was the best news of the day; and finally the nosebleed clotted which meant that it was a simple injury rather than being a fracture, probably. He didn't have the money nor time to wait around for a surgery. He felt like a voodoo doll with stitches running across his entire body like webbing, barely being held together by the stakes that were being driven through his heart. Of course he had to repeatedly reassure people who thought that Frankenstein was visiting out of season that he was fine, which only worked after he bought another thrifted trenchcoat to replace his old tattered one.
When he sat down on the comfortable stool (yet kept at that uncanny region of just-uncomfortable-enough where it still felt like hell had opened to poke at his butt with pitchforks), shapes were already being transmitted. The monitor in front of him was large enough that he could soak in more details than normal on Professor Oak's grainy camera, which made Kane want to applaud the scientist. True admiration came easy when the man had surpassed aspects which most wouldn't comprehend.
"Lane! Are you okay!?"
The various sources of pain receding didn't mean they looked any better. A shiny purple patchwork of what was supposed to be skin wrapped around his head. The nose was especially bad, making Kane feel as though he wouldn't be able to fit it through a motorcycle helmet with how ballooned it was.
"Lane? Oh, right! Lane. Yeah, Lane is okay. Just got on the wrong end of a scuffle. You should see the other guys, though. Sent them packing," Lane said.
It was also heartening to see how much things didn't change with certain people—the older, he'd say if so inclined, though didn't have the capability to scorn the scientists and authors whose jobs were to tread new ground—as the exact same collection of books lining his shelves and same junior scientists who want to seem busy by acting busy were scurrying in the lab.
"You're sure? I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go home," Oak said.
"Definitely not. I've got a pretty good thing going here. All sorts have seen the pokédex. For example, has the dean called you?"
Oak put aside his reservations, enthusiasm taking over. "She has! Lane, I'm not sure how you've done it, but I've already got orders coming in from all over Hoenn! It started with the school, then private businesses, and now we've got orders coming from Mossdeep! We can successfully call this endeavor fulfilled. The League has already contacted me on how we can distribute these to every new trainer."
Lane gave a sly wink. "Just what happens when you snag a deal with one of the most influential places in the entire region. I've gotten the ear of their celebrities and businessmen."
"You've succeeded beyond what we've expected of you. If there's a favor that we can fulfill then just say the word and I'll endeavor to see it done." Oak gained a pensive look, taking a moment to glance off the screen before staring straight into Lane's eyes. "To make this abundantly clear, I'll have to make it clear that this is in no way a permanent arrangement. Since you've been involved in some way with the project, I also believe that it's only fair if you hear about this: we are not going to patent the pokédex."
"Patent," Lane repeated, tasting the word. It tasted familiar, like money.
"Yes." Recognizing the confusion, Oak said, "patenting is a process where we'd claim the pokédex as our own invention so that we can make royalties, money, from any other person who uses our idea. The pokédex will be an invention for the entirety of mankind to improve rather than only incentivizing the original developers to improve on its design."
"Ah," Lane said. "Why?"
Oak's smile got wider. "I'm not nearly vain enough to think that it's going to be the final design. Concurrent companies, governments, and teams will find ways to jump over the hurdles that we had during the development. We have already succeeded with our goal: to create a device that will better enable the laymen and to further encourage those who already consider themselves masters to continue learning."
Lane hit a fist into his palm. "Okay, I get it. You're saying that you wanted the pokédex to be spread around out 'cause it would be better for humanity rather than trying to advertise a product. I get it, I think."
"Precisely so."
"Which is why you don't need me as a permanent advertiser for other regions and niche businesses and stuff. I was only meant to spread it around until the League itself would take notice. Since that's been done, most likely other regions are going to follow suit. Kanto setting precedent is one thing, but Hoenn, an island that's far out from the home of the pokédex, adopting it shows that there's something legit about it," Lane continued.
"Brilliantly deduced. Yes, that is correct," Oak praised.
Though he was a little conflicted on the inside. Sure, he was currently working three different jobs that were all giving him a little bit of payment so losing a single one wasn't the end of the world, but that's not what it felt like to the boy who barely was making enough money to break even from the trip. The life of a trainer: to barely be hanging by a thread between 'trainer' and 'homeless person with a pokémon'.
"Then to reiterate, you are to still work on spreading the pokédex as far as you can. Send anybody interested in acquiring their own to me. You still have a month before our contract runs out, but considering how good you've been doing, I'd consider giving you a bonus when you come back." Oak pretended that he didn't see the fist pump that was supposed to be underneath the camera. "Now that we've finished with business, is there anything else? Don't hold back. I'd love to hear about your trip!"
"Later, maybe. I've got to make another call after this. A few things before I go though: I was wondering if you could get me in contact with somebody who sells pokémon from other regions. Doesn't matter if they're a traveling merchant or somebody who ships them out. I've got a few requests for pokémon that I need to get before going back to Kanto. No trouble if you can't. I'm just fishing around. I'm sure that someone like Roxanne or Norman knows somebody if you don't," Lane said.
"Which pokémon are you looking for?"
He pulled out a notebook from one of his inner pockets. All the notes from his previous one were destroyed by the river, which made that whole debacle rankle against his nerves more than it already did. Rewriting everything down took the better part of the morning since he forgot a lot of the stuff inside. After the smoking pencil was lifted, he still missed out on many details that were the reason he committed the thoughts to written word in the first place.
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"Scrafty, Ferrothorn, a male Salandit, Fennekin, Fomantis, Druddigon, Reshiram, Comfey, Darmanitan, Stakataka, Alolan Raichu, two Lapras, and a healing pokémon." Lane looked into the camera. "I can also give you a list of people that these are for if you want."
"I trust that they're of the decent sort, but I wouldn't mind listening," Oak said.
"Scrafty is for Kiyo so he can put up a fight against Sabrina, Ferrothron is for Erika, Salandit is a joke gift to Koga 'cause I'll tell him that it can evolve when it can't, then Fennekin is for Blaine, Fomantis for Green 'cause I don't want to give her a Fomantis that I bred since she's weird, Druddigon as a bribe for Lance, Reshiram for the funny, Comfey for Erika because it'll be funny when she finds out it's not a grass-type, Darmanitan as a joke for Red 'cause he's totally like a Darmanitan, Stakataka for general chaos, Alolan Raichu for you, two Lapras so I can breed them, and a healing pokémon for," Lane pointed to his face, "since I think that this will be a common occurrence."
"I haven't even heard of most of those pokémon! You're in luck, however. Professor Birch's current research prioritizes a few pokémon that're out of region, which makes him well-connected with traders of that like. I'll have a message for you in the near future after a long chat! We haven't had the opportunity for a long while!" Oak laughed at his own joke. "You said there was something else?"
"Please include a flashlight mode with the next iteration. I'm not going to explain why."
Oak nodded, understanding. "Alright then. I'll send a message over to the school when it's ready. Don't hold out on me forever, Lane! I'd love to hear how you managed to get a position as a teacher."
"Yeah, yeah. Then if you'll excuse me, I need to make another call."
"By all means! Thanks again for all your help, Lane."
After a few more parting words, the screen turned black. It reflected the sign that he didn't even read when first entering, a proto-guide to proper netiquette. You're still speaking to the person, don't get too close to the camera, and other things not immediately known to people who just invented the portable video call.
He poked his head out the stall to update the call. It took a bit before the black screen got a spinning pokéball, reading 'CONNECTING' above it. Listening closely made him able to hear the phone calls of the people next to him. One was talking to a doctor about his Jigglypuff's inflation problem. The man on the other side was laughing at a bad joke told by a girl. The complete invasion of privacy was another reason that the future had been invented: having to do things without the invention of the roof motivated people into creating abundant housing, having to eat with others created the fast food which could be scarfed down in whatever atmosphere you found to your liking, and Lane was getting annoyed that the laughter next door was so smarmy, so high-pitched, that he was craving for everyone to have cell phones already.
The screen flicked to a beige room that was obnoxiously bright thanks to the lights being turned on during the daytime. A woman wearing those glasses with the pointed ends squinted into the screen slightly, a permanent crooked bent to her neck. The suit that she wore was crisp and official.
"Celadon League offices. Who's calling?" she asked. She was focused on her other screen, continuing typing even as she spoke.
"Lane Rand. I called earlier this week to set up a meeting." He checked the clock that silently moved above the computer. "Not exactly on time, but I was taking care of my own end."
The woman squinted back at the screen, taking in all his injuries, without stopping the typing. "Hmph. I can at least appreciate the dedication to your work. Erika-sama been waiting for three minutes. I'll send them up right now."
'ON HOLD' blinked slowly on the screen as a Pikachu waved cutely. The whole setup smelled fishy to Lane. Calling the region backwards had gotten old, but what other word was there for a place where there wasn't a reliable private way to contact people in other regions? Instead he had to call the central League office since they had inter-region contact out of necessity, get explained to him that all their city offices could set up a meeting, talk with the same stern woman who told him that she'd tell the gym leader, do a game of telephone where they set a date, and hope that both of them were on time. Needlessly complicated and annoying. He absolutely was going to convince Erika to get her own communications system installed.
And then there was that little non-sequitur. 'Erika-sama'. Nobody spoke Japanese. Nobody had ever mentioned any of the other honorifics. He was sure as heck not speaking in another language. What gives? Why wasn't anybody calling him 'Kane-kun'? If they did, then he would've started calling himself ridiculous names. Billy-kun. Obama-sama. Weezer-san. Somewhere in himself was a bit of restraint, self-control (whether through the processes of shame that made his head swirl or through some unknown belief that he forgot) or self-preservation he wasn't sure, sure of nothing other than the steadfast belief that slipping any sort of honorific through his mouth would be like a camel speaking French. Hon hon, I spit on you.
It flickered back to life with another room, this time with a green-striped wallpaper, with a familiar secretary's face pensively waiting. Surprised, her eyes searched around the screen for something to look at before staring into the camera: 'stare into the other person's eyes on the screen if you don't know where to look,' so said the rules posted up on the wall behind him.
"Holy moomoo, Lane! What happened to your face?"
He tapped his nose and winced. "Oh, you know. Trainer things. Turns out they've got villains running about over here too. Believe it or not, the nose was from a Magikarp."
"What's wrong?" asked a voice off screen. Erika walked into the picture and gasped, holding both hands on her mouth. "Oh gosh! What happened to you?"
"Ad nauseum, nauseous to my stomach. My face ain't that important. I've got some news that you'll wanna hear. I've arranged for transportation for the Seedot. It'll arrive there later in the week through some shipping company." Learning that the box didn't work over regions was immensely disappointing and made him want to find Bill himself to interrogate the man. What do you mean the magic transfer of pokémon into data wasn't magical enough for them to transport over regions? Did the magical data get a patriot bug snapped onto its rear end? "You'll be getting him soon. Alongside that, I think that I've gotten a lead on how to get the other pokémon. You'll be receiving them, oh, let's say two weeks from now, maybe maybe. I'll send over the dates and exact stuff when I get more confirmation on that front."
Erika pressed herself into the camera, obscuring her secretary's impressed face. "That's nice, but not important at the moment! What happened that injured you so bad? Are you sure that you should even be working on this if you're so injured?"
"It looks worse than it actually is, seriously," Lane said with an eye roll. "Look, let's leave the whole injured face thing alone."
"I think not! Have you even gotten your wounds looked at?" Erika was gobsmacked when he didn't respond. Her voice became shrill, restrained only by keeping each word clearly enunciated. "Do you know how serious a nose injury can be?"
Lane let out a grunt of annoyance. "If you want me to get it looked at, I want to get this meeting over with. So let's focus on the topic and get it over with as fast as possible so I can go see a doctor or whatever."
"You're not going to do that."
"No, I'm not. Can we move on?"
"Your health is important. How am I supposed to talk business when you're practically still bleeding? You should never sacrifice your health for my sake, especially when this meeting doesn't need to happen at this moment. Go to a doctor!" Erika pleaded.
Another silence where they mutually listened over one another. His ears closed as had hers. When Yoko realized things were going nowhere, she decided to interject.
"Erika, I understand how you feel, but this is genuinely urgent. We have set out a realistic time frame to get these pokémon and it'd behoove us to make sure that he's keeping his schedule tidy. If you're so distressed, then maybe it's better if you didn't see him like this," she said.
Rage blanketed her body with the same suddenness as the atmosphere burning in sudden conflagration, the necessary components for survival being eaten alongside any hope for the future—and in the same way, she was left without the tinder to continue. Realizing that she was getting kicked out, there was a smaller her that wanted to fight back. Then came the more adult version of that: putting her foot down and coming with an argument that would shut down any disagreements. The part that was her in totality took over. Without acknowledging them, she spun around and walked out. The door clicked shut behind her.
"Ooh, that's not good," Yoko said with a wince. "I wish that the girl did anything a normal kid would do. Complain or be vindictive and not talk with me. Doing this makes me feel like I'm doing wrong."
Lane stayed silent, partially because he forgot the secretary's name.
She turned back to the camera with a smile. "Despite the circumstances, it's great to see that you're able to get a job done. I was worried by your personality initially. I'm always happy to be proven wrong like this."
When Kane thought about it, Roxanne had practically said the same thing. It must've been something with that specific personality type. "Don't go praising me yet. Save that for when all the pokémon are safe and sound over there. Speaking of, I'm also going to send a write-up that'll explain how to care for the pokémon you're receiving. Maybe you can tell Erika that to cheer her up."
"Nothing will help with that front other than you admitting that she was right and getting yourself checked up. Was there anything else?"
Other than setting up a proper communication center that Erika could use so she wasn't insulated from the rest of the world? "Nothing that I can think of."
"Alright. Thanks, Lane. Continue the good work."
The screen turned off. Once again he had to stick out and tell the person at the counter to connect him with another call. Lulu had finished her berry and was using all the self-control in her little pink body to stop herself from pleading for more. Lane boredly watched the Pikachu waving as he recalled all the hoops that had to be done to transport the pokémon, because of course they would monitor that. Invasive species were a real thing and trafficking was Team Rocket's gig. Barriers were put in place as best they could, taking the form of a wall of paperwork and manpower. Before you could even place the pokéball on a region-approved trader's boat, who had to verify that the pokéball contained the pokémon that you confirmed, then there was a process to confirm that it was a real person on the other end who was receiving them, yadayada legalese. Thankfully having a gym leader on dial had smoothed the process over. Lane, if anything, was offended that a singular Seedot had tightened their britches. The proposition was absurd: the only thing that a Seedot threatened was making the flying-types or bug-types or steel-types or fire-types in the area they were 'invading' too plump.
The screen flickered onto another room. This time it was definitely due to poor connection that he could barely see the details of an active kitchen behind the man. His distinctive green hair and eyes were the only features that stuck out from him that Lane would be able to identify.
"Hello? Who is this?" the man asked. Even his voice sounded like it was bitcrushed during the journey. It barely was able to carry over the clattering pans.
"Yo. Sorry about contacting you this way, suddenness and suddenly stuff like that, but it's hard talking to people over this side of the globe. Name's Lane. I work for the grass gym in Kanto and am calling from Hoenn," Lane said. He flashed the card that Professor Oak had given him, even if the man probably could make out even less details.
"Kanto? What a surprise! We don't hear much news from over there. I'm Cilan. Pleasure to meet you," Cilan said.
"Yeah, I know. You see, I've been contracted in getting certain pokémon for Erika, and I should be getting a Ferrothorn soon 'nough. Thing is that I've got no idea how to care for the things. Thought that a grass gym leader like yourself would know and I was really hoping that you'd have some kind of guide that I could send her."
The man glanced behind when his name was called before nodding. "Just that? I've actually been asked those kinds of questions so many times that I already have papers written up. I think that I should have them on my home computer. I can send those over by the end of today."
"What do I owe you?"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing?"
"I'd hope to call Erika myself at some point so we can exchange tidbits on our respective positions." It was a hunger that was present in every battler, no matter time or place or origin, Lane decided, somewhat intrigued as determination carried through about sixteen pixels of pupils. "I wonder what kind of insights a Kanto trainer could have?"
Nothing much, he wanted to snark.
"You'll have to organize that with her. I'd recommend calling the Celadon League building and getting all that sorted with the person there. Remember that? Ce-la-don. I'm trying to get her to get an international communication majiggy herself, but until that happens, you'll have to deal with the League office and—you know what? I'm sending over the number right now. Not sure if you can hop between Unova and Kanto's majiggy but, eh. That stuff's for the nerds," Lane said.
"Will do! Thanks for this opportunity! I'll be one of the only people in my town who have spoken to someone from Kanto. This is so exciting!" he said.
"The pleasure is all yours. Ciao," Lane said, turning the screen off for the last time. He pumped his fist a few times before holding open the door.
A blade interrupted his path out. He looked down, amused hums playing in sync with the monitor.
"20 questions? Maybe 10? Could be 30? Alrighty~. Let's see: you want me to call Erika back and apologize."
Lurantis see-sawed her blade.
"Alright, so you kind of want me to but that's not what you stopped me for. Hm, hm, hm, hmmmm, perhaps you want me to double check that Oak is getting the pokémon?"
She shook her head.
"Huuuh? Alrighty-o then, maybe you're saying that I should've been more polite to Cilan and should apologize-o."
She shook her head.
"Wow, you're putting me in a corner, friend! Then let's see: with my great, eruditious knowledge, so forth I proclaim that you're saying I should call Erika and set the time for our next meeting."
She shook her head.
"Maybe you're saying that I should call Birch myself and ask?"
She shook her head.
"That I should call and tell somebody that I'm okay? Oh! Blaine! That's it, right?"
She see-sawed her blade.
"Somewhat correct? Are you saying that I should update my status with Blaine?"
She shook her head.
"Call him just to have fun?'
She shook her head.
"Okay, so it isn't about Blaine. But it's about, what? I don't know. Call Norman?"
She shook her head.
"I'm actually confused now! Maybe it'll be better if we work backwards. You obviously want me to call someone. Is it somebody back in Kanto?"
She shook her head.
"So it's somebody here in Hoenn."
She nodded.
"And it's somebody that we know and have met before."
She nodded.
"Have you met them?"
She seesawed her blade.
"Norman?"
She shook her head.
"Um, the professor? I forget his name."
She shook her head.
"...Brendan?" She nodded, making him sigh in relief. "Thank goodness I finally got it, but what do you mean? Why would I—crackers!" Though it was a silly exclamation, it was loud and panicked enough to make the people in the other stalls all jolt in surprise. "Shame all over me! They might've not heard my voice when I was down there! They could totally think I'm dead!"
He stuck his head out and yelled another number to the receptionist. Nervousness couldn't exactly describe how he felt. It was certainly negative. Faking his death was a level of callousness that he felt would be hard to dredge up. It made him a little more unbalanced once he'd sussed out the best place to call, and made him a little less prepared when a perfectly crisp image responded. The ridges were true ridges and red vibrant as freshly launched fireworks. Posters proudly announced themselves as badges of true fandom. Lisia joyously sang in a microphone with a glittering series of spotlights leading towards the girl's open mouth.
"Woah! What happened to you?"
Lane groaned, not wanting to go through another song and dance. "I don't mean to be the butt here, but I'm the butt who needs to butt into your schedule, miss gym leader, since you're the nearest to these guys. Over in a cave that has a name there was a fight between some trainers and mean ol' criminal adults. Have you heard of it?"
Whispers passed as he wondered if she had even processed the words before there was a creaky cog that turned over a new tooth.
"You're Kane!"
"Or at least some person like him," he said. A peace sign further reinforced his Kaneness.
She was already halfway up, words jumbling together like sheep hurrying away from an angry cane, "hold on right a second I'll go get somebody that'll want to see you!"
Crickets could've been stuffed down the tiny holes with how much buzzing came from the silent room. It reminded him of the way that microphones would reflect static onto themselves, static onto static, static turning into static, until it was an unbearable wave that sang alongside the brainwaves and created floaters around his cerebrospinal fluid that made their existence very noticeable—or the physical manifestation of his injuries that were transmorgifying into man-eating sprites that were devouring him from the inside out. Kane couldn't see inside his body and wouldn't want to. That'd require him to lay out and trust a doctor to stick their titanium dowsing rods down an important hole.
Hustling around the screen came two familiar, equally concerned faces.
He made a show of counting through his fingers. "One, two, three, four—nope! Not wrong! It's been days and you're already in Lavaridge!"
"What are you talking about!? You got thrown off a cliff, look like that, and you're talking about us!?" May screeched.
"Yep!" It caught the two flatfooted, letting him charge ahead. "I had no worries, gov'na. I'm a slippery one. This ain't the first side of the law that wants my head and it won't be the last. You two weren't a worry either 'cause I already knew you're a power duo."
"You weren't worried? How?" Brendan asked.
"Trust," Kane said simply. He made sure to put twisted fingers behind his back as a joke. "I trusted in you and my pokémon to make sure we got out of that safely."
"Trust," Brendan repeated.
Kane didn't know if the boy was listening anymore, but felt like hammering it in. "Trust! Like I'm sure you've learned to trust May! You two have already gone through some things together, it seems, especially since you're still standing."
The pair exchanged glances. There was none of the blushing, stammered refusals that he was somewhat expecting (hoping for) rather than a secret shared between smiles.
"You can say that," May said. Her entire demeanor was shaved off with a shake of her head. "Hey, wait! You can't do this!"
"Do what?"
"Shove off our concerns by acting like this!"
"Acting like what?"
"Giving us all that advice and stuff." She jabbed her finger into the camera and then back at Brendan. "Look at him! I've got to shake him down for any kind of emotion whereas you can come and give some kind of big hero speech and he's taking it like gospel!"
"So you think it was a good speech? Thanks so much!"
"Wha-What!? Wait a—" she put a finger to her mouth for a moment's thought. "It's true, but I want to be the one to teach him to trust. You can't be left behind and still be giving all this kind of advice."
Brendan's head lowered, a disgruntled grunt sliding out.
May spun around and waved her hands wildly. "Ah! I'm sorry! I know that you hate being talked about when you're here! Sorry, sorry!"
"It's fine," he mumbled. Brendan glanced at the camera, flicking back to his lap. "You really trusted us? Even though we're new trainers?"
"New trainers who are already this far. Like I said, hero, when you first helped me back there, I could tell that you're somebody different." Kane made sure his whole camera was focused on his face. "Don't worry about me. These injuries are mostly cosmetic. Now, why don't you tell me how the heck you two have gotten so far in so little time. Heck, I was expecting you guys to be at Lava Ridge within two weeks! How the heck are you guys traveling so fast!?"
Serious time over, May took the center stage as she butted Brendan out of frame. "We're focusing on the wrong thing right now: I was picked out by Lisia herself to become a coordinator!"
He was given a series of events that he would never believe if they weren't being said by protagonists. From nice people giving flights when they heard about the heroic journey, to single digit hours of training that boosted them to levels where they could tackle gym leaders that were underestimating them, to strange gangsters that were fought, to strong pokémon being caught that boosted their power, it was an auspicious rise that Red didn't match—though Kane was wondering how much it was due to Red having to walk between each of the gyms. He wondered how much he really did when pairing the two together. He wondered about a lot of things, but was convinced that nothing new happened under the sun the more that the protagonists talked about how the world bent backwards for their unrealistic goal.
T-Minus 1 Month and 1 Week and 3 Days?
Stretching after sitting down for an hour straight felt amazing. Especially with the stool meant to discourage long calls, he had been put through a mini torture chamber through that partial interrogation.
When you considered the amount of work that he'd done within such a short time frame, it became almost magical how everything lined up. It made him think. Who was he to be talking about anybody else not being modernized when he was a normal trainer roughing it with the dirt and bugs? He had to walk into the equivalent of a public telephone, even if it was much fancier. Phones existed. They were much more limited, true, but they still existed. Who was he to call anybody from being backwards when he only owned the clothes on his back?
Rustboro was known to be the center of technology in the entire region with the Devon headquarters centered there and an entire danged academy doing its own research on the other end of town. Calling Devon Corp just a building was like calling the ocean a pond. Within those brick walls was cutting edge research with teams of scientists; none of them as brilliant as Oak, yet with resources that he could only balk in jealousy at. White smoke clouds flew up into the air from the factories behind the main building with hints of purple intermixed with the puffs—Weezing, eating away the leftover pollution. Lane frowned at the implication. Wouldn't energy be cleaner if they could use electric and fire pokémon as sources? Obviously not, since there were still purple guys hanging around, a faint whiff of something chemical in the air as he walked up to the front doors.
Phones usually didn't express any sort of individuality—or at least that was how Kane remembered them. There was just too much centralization. You either had a normal phone, the normal phone for people who wanted to pretend they knew about technology, a dated piece of junk either for hipsters or old people, and one that didn't even try hiding that it was put together in a sweatshop. What sort of personality could be gleaned from these? How much could the human soul really be gleaned just by looking over all the customizations? That a person went through the effort of hacking into their hardware, just so they could uninstall the apps that were previously considered 'too important' to remove, and that they actually thought that buying a sticker of their favorite band and plonking it right on the back really reflected an important compartment to their life, or perhaps that their entire phone's storage was taken up by games that they'd cycle through rather than superfluous family photos they didn't even remember taking.
Not in Hoenn. With the function of technology being much more niche, much less globalized yet just as advanced, it allowed for much more diversity to exist. His own block of circuits was cumbersome, about the size of his whole hand despite having a screen size about half of it. That was traded off with the sheer amount of benefits that was underneath the plastic cover. Hard, sturdy, made with a daily trainer's life in mind as it wouldn't short circuit when he was inevitably dragged into a river again. There was some science-y gobblygook that he couldn't understand which was helpfully explained by the salesperson: thing connected with other thing when underneath thing to other regions. That thing was usually inside the big cities, which made it so that he didn't have to be caught inside a public phone booth like a caveman. Its case was pure white, the buttons bigger than his thumbprint, and had pong on it. Previously, it could combine many apps together to act like a pseudo pokédex. In a few years many trainer-centric phones would nearly be phased out as the pokédex ate their user base, barely clinging on by spending a startling amount of money on celebrity ads.
Walking back to the school felt like much more time had passed. That sort of thing happens when you're forced to beg for a ride from the trainers once you remembered that all the appointments you made were later that day. Students who he'd taught gawked as he walked onto campus. Nobody was brash enough to ask where the wounds came from—a shame. He already had a whole story concocted.
"Kane!"
The only person who bothered to come up and ask was the only one who would eventually suss out that there was something going on.
"Who? Oh! Kane. Right, Kane. I am Kane. Kane is fine," Kane said.
Roxanne didn't have to shoulder past the students in the hallway as they spread out for her. She stood in front of Kane, staring him down.
"What happened up there?" He was about to speak before his hand was seized. "Nevermind. You're going to the infirmary right now. No classes for today! We'll reschedule them later."
He sighed. From the arms of one overly-concerned busybody into another.
