The night sky was aglow from the bright starlights, making the town’s glimmer pale in comparison. Such was the city of Vermilion: peaceful, tranquil, indigenous.
However tonight was different, the winds had changed, the Hoothoots stopped their hooting and turned their disk-like red eyes in unison towards the man clad in black a few streets down from the hospital.
“How’s it going with that old geezer from the ship?” The man in the trench coat rumbled into a phone-like device in his naturally deep voice.
“Nothing so far. I think he’s told us everything he knows and more.” It was a woman's voice on the other end. Although mature, the tone had a chirpier feel than one would expect, “how about the kid on your end? Any luck?”
“Heh. If I knew it was a kid I would’ve let you take the request instead.” The man made a dissatisfied grunt, before lighting the cigarette that was already in his mouth, “the lass did offer some useful information though, and she’s agreed to help out with the investigation.”
“You didn’t… do anything to her, right? Blain?”
“Oh the lass? Nah. Just had my Partner shoot a few Detect for safe measures, she’s in good conditions right now.” Blain remarked rather casually as he puffed a few smokes out, the Hoothoots turned their head in amazement at the whiffs of smog that dissolves itself like clouds.
“YOU WHAT!?” The phone-like device vibrated in accordance to the woman’s sudden outburst. Startling a few of the onlooking Pokemon.
“Oi yoi. Calm down for a bit would ya. I said the kid’s fine. But guess what? She’s definitely hiding something.” A nonchalant response, befitting of the top notch detective that’s been through many-a-crises, “I don’t plan on pushing her about it, unless she becomes a threat of course.”
“It’s a 14 year old kid for fuck’s sake! What if something bad happened? Would you be willing to take the responsibility? Or am I the one that’s gonna clean up your mess again?”
Blain clenched his fists at the remark. “For the record, I never asked you to.” But the anger in his voice quickly dissipated, “I saw those eyes, they weren’t that of a kid’s. Whatever the lass has been through, it’s not something a sane person could survive from.”
The woman over the phone decided not to quarrel any further, knowing full well that she’ll never get someone as stubborn as Blain to listen. “Whatever the case, just don't go overboard again… I know you want to find her as soon as possible, but there are procedures we have to follow,” she heaved a brief sigh before giving out a final notice, “I'm not saying this as a fellow PLI agent, but as your friend, Blain." The phone call cut out shortly after that. It wasn’t clear which side ended it, but one thing was certain: neither was content with the conversation.
“Yeah, yeah…” Blain cussed under his breath, his hand reaching into his coat to retrieve an old fashioned locket that has lost all of its former shine. Flipping its lid open revealed a photograph of a woman in her early 30s, dressed in a white gown adorned with flowers of silk, her face showing a smile of innocent shyness. Blain Hueber just stood there. He stood there with eyes fixed intently onto the picture. He stood there until the cigarette in his lips was burned to a stub. Then without saying a word, he took off into the street, his shadow merging into the shades that were cast off from the street lights.
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Vermilion City became peaceful once more. The Hoothoots flew off in search of other forms of entertainment, many of the town’s windows pulled down and curtains drawn in wait for the arrival of a new day. All that was left in the streets were brisk winds that smelled faintly of the sea, and the disheveled remains of a cigarette butt.
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When was the last time I woke up in the morning? I've lost all concept of time while living in the tiny condo where the curtains were shut all year round. But since coming to this world I've experienced things that I haven't done in a long time: going on a boat (although I was technically abducted), talking to people (although it was more of an interrogation), and worst of all, waking up in the morning (no explanation for this one, it’s as bad as it sounds).
“Just 5 more minutes….” I groaned in a sleepy voice while holding the blankets over my head in a death grip, determined not to let a single ray of sunlight shine through. It was times like this that made me really miss the carefree lifestyle I had back home.
“You said that 15 minutes ago,” the voice sounded muffled inside my little cocoon, but it wasn't hard to discern that it belonged to a certain freckled nurse with red hair, “the detective said if you don't wake up soon he'll come get you personally.”
“I’m up! I’m up!!” I sat up abruptly with the blanket still over my face, which caused it to flip over and fold onto itself. That scarred wacko of a detective was willing to blast me with deadly psychic beams for a test! Who knows what he’ll do to get me out of bed. Though something completely unrelated was bothering me right now: “What’s wrong with you?”
I couldn’t help but notice that Fred was turning his head away in embarrassment, afraid to even glance at me, “I-I’ll tell the detective that you’re up.” He stammered while sprinting for the door in a hurried panic.
What’s wrong with the ginger kid? What’s there to be blushing abou-
Oh…
The wooden framed mirror from across the room served as a reminder once again for the new identity that was forced onto me. My petite yet curvy figure that was only decorated by two pieces of blue striped garms, my now shoulder length lavender hair that was silky to the touch, and my cute face that’s no doubt a lolicon magnet.
Okay that last part was a bit too much. Getting abducted was not fun, I’d rather not have it happen again. But you know what else isn’t fun? Looking into the mirror and seeing someone else as your reflection. I’ll never get used to this feeling in my chest… or maybe it is the chest that’s causing this??
Without thinking my hands moved towards the extra weights over my chest that I didn’t used to have. As modest as they were it was impossible to cup them completely with my now dainty palm and fingers.
Well I’d say I’m living every man’s dream right now, just maybe not in the way that I imagined… and I’m not really feeling anything either…
Is me not being attracted to myself a bad thing? Am I only uninterested because it’s myself? Or maybe this body is too young? Or did I lose interest in girls altogether since becoming one myself?
My heart went thud over the last notion. I was still a virgin back on Earth, and last time I checked the Doujins and AVs I watched were all normal, vanilla…
No. What am I saying? I gave up on everything back then. I was never gonna find a girlfriend anyways. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to keep living. But since coming to this world I’ve been given a reason and chance to live again. And there are far more important things waiting for me to do. I'll think about these other stuff when the time comes, or rather if the time comes.
The little self pep talk got me back on my feet again, and I was just about ready to tackle whatever Blain was going to throw at me. But when I finally dressed myself and stepped through the door I quickly realized that the shady detective was the least of my worries.
Lying unconscious right next to the door was the ginger haired nurse, his face had a sickly purple complexion. Blibly stood next to him with her arms stretched out, as if shielding him from something. Following her gaze, I saw what she was protecting him from. A few rooms down the hallway was an Arbok, hissing and thrashing around, with a size that could barely be confined within the tiny hospital walls. Standing behind the gigantic raging cobra was a man with a high collared jacket which covered all of his lower face, but I didn’t need to see his face to know what he came here for. Because on the sides of his sleeves was an emblem I was all too familiar with. It was the brandings of a phoenix spreading its wings towards the sky as if about to take flight.
It was the goddamn Pokemon Liberations Army.