icomeanon6
It's "I Come Anon"
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[This is my entry for the 2014 Pokecommunity Get-Together Small Writing Competition. Unlike my other stories this one uses canonical characters, and I hope you find my take on them amusing/funny/not insulting.
There are no edits; what follows is what was submitted to the judges. The prompt was "rivals/rivalry." Enjoy!]
March, 1999:
A woman in her mid-twenties named Grace sat on her porch watching the sunset with her baby son on her lap. At this stage in her life she was a new mother and also a twice-champion Pokémon racer. The latter fact was nowhere near as exciting as it sounds, because she was a Rhyhorn racer. For those who are unversed in Pokémon sports, Rhyhorn Racing is the fourth most boring of all professional Pokémon sports, behind only the Slowpoke Biathlon (non-aquatic), the 50 Yard Dash for Caterpie, and Shellder's Test Cricket. Suffice to say, Grace was not very interesting.
Her son, named Calem, was at this stage in his life only about as interesting as most babies are. His early childhood would turn out to be most pleasant. He would have a very even temperament, almost everyone would be super-nice to him, and he would become friends with all the kids he ever met.
Seriously.
All of them.
Every kid.
Anyway, it would not be until he reached early adolescence that Calem's life would become at all eventful. It became interesting as well, but only in an odd, paradoxical sense. Calem's life was interesting in that it was somehow incredibly boring despite his exceptional achievements. To understand this, however, we first need to take a look at what came before him.
September, 1987:
A woman in her mid-twenties marched into Professor Oak's laboratory in Pallet Town with a look of deep frustration on her face. She ignored the handful of aides who tried to intercept her near the entrance and went straight for the Pokémon Professor himself. She caught him near the back of the lab, and he didn't seem to know why she was upset.
"Ah! Good afternoon, Mrs.—"
The woman was in no mood for pleasantries. "Professor, I just got a call from the day care."
"I see. Is your Pokémon all ri—"
The woman was in no mood for this Pokémon nonsense either. "The human day care, Professor."
"Oh. No bad news, I hope?"
And most importantly, the woman was in no mood for bullsh*t. "No bad news? My son and your grandson have the proud distinction of being the first two-year-olds to be expelled from school for punching and kicking in the entire history of Kanto!"
Professor Oak was unmoved. "Yes, that's what they told me. I had a feeling those two would turn out to be pioneers in their field."
The young mother put her hands to her temples in disbelief. "This is serious! They drew blood for crying out loud! I'm having enough trouble raising Red as it is, and now I learn he's getting into fights and won't be able to stay at day care? Are you telling me you don't plan to do anything about this?"
"Calm down, now, please. I've done all I ought to do, and that was to pick up Red and Blue from the day care when I got the call (when I was right in the middle of a critical experiment, I might add). Now that you're back from work, you can take Red home and tomorrow we can talk to the day care people. That should be the end of that."
Red's mother looked around. She could see an aide who was keeping half an eye on little Blue (who fortunately couldn't reach the tables loaded with dangerous chemicals), but she couldn't see her own child. She got right in Oak's face and asked with a fierce glare, "Where's Red?"
Oak raised his arms in self-defense. "Hold on! I sent him back to my house with Daisy. She's a fine babysitter, and it's not like I can have Red and Blue together in the lab. My fire insurance premiums are high enough as it is."
Red's mother cooled down a little, but her head was still reeling. "I can't understand how this is such a non-issue to you, Professor. I just can't."
The Professor then took on a sterner tone and expression, something he only did when he spoke of larger issues in the world of Pokémon. "On the contrary, my dear, this is a very big issue for me. In all my long years, I have never seen two babies who had in for each other like these two have. If they also have the aptitude for Pokémon training that runs in their families, they could drive each other to heights that have only been dreamed of before. I sincerely believe that our little boys will grow up to be giants."
Red's mother just shook her head. "If it means they don't turn out to be good people, I don't think I can share your enthusiasm."
She then left to pick up her son from the Oak residence. The Professor stood where he was for a while and fiddled with a small, incomplete electronic device in his pocket.
February, 1996:
The day had finally arrived. Red darted out of his house wearing a light jacket, and didn't even notice the cold weather. When his mind was on Pokémon seasons meant nothing to him, and today he would finally get his first Pokémon and head out to travel to every corner of the region. It would be just him, his new best friend whom he was about to meet, a bag with one pocket for items, no cell phone (Because what was a cell phone, anyway? Was that even a thing?), and all the new and exciting Pokémon and trainers he would run into in the wild. He couldn't think of anything that could ruin this day for him.
And then he entered his neighbor Professor Oak's lab, and he remembered that there was always one thing that could ruin literally everything good in life: Blue. And who should be standing in the back of the lab with that smug, entitled, punch-able look on his face but Blue himself.
Red and Blue had stopped compulsively hitting each other whenever they were in the same room three years ago, but the tensions had not calmed down in the slightest. This reminded Red of the other reason he was so excited about today, which was that now with Pokémon they'd be able to beat each other up metaphorically and vicariously without fear of adult reprisal. Pokémon battling might not bring the same visceral satisfaction that kicking Blue in the teeth did, but that was the price of being all grown up and mature now. The two exchanged extremely inappropriate gestures before Professor Oak turned around and noticed that Red had arrived.
"Ah! Good morning, Re—"
"Cut to the chase, Gramps, I've been waiting here for hours!" said Blue.
If the Professor was annoyed at the interruption, he didn't show it. Perhaps it influenced what he said next, though. "Fine, then. Red, why don't you pick first? One of these three Pokémon on the table is yours."
Blue's outrage was just barely contained, but he didn't risk mouthing off more than he already had. Red kept a straight face, but inside he relished the little jerk's indignation. Best of all, he could make this most important decision on his own terms. The three Pokémon available would all make wonderful partners (which was entirely thanks to the Professor, though the young boys didn't appreciate this at the time), so it was just a matter of finding the one that felt right. Red looked at the Charmander, Squirtle, and Bulbasaur through the translucent tops of their Pokéballs, and tried to spot the one sign that one of them was meant for him. He knew it had to be there.
And there it was. The slightest, subtlest glint in Charmander's eye was like a whisper, 'Take me with you!' Red had found his new friend, and without hesitation picked up his ball and let him out.
The little lizard jumped right into Red's arms with a cute, tiny growl, and even the heat from his tail brought a smile to the boy's face. "Thank you, Professor!"
"Ah, you've chosen the fire Pokémon, Charmander! This Pokémon is very ener—"
"My turn!"
What happened next should be enough to convince you that even if he wasn't the worst person in human history like Red thought, Blue still wasn't a very good kid. He walked right over to Squirtle's Pokéball and let him out without as much as a glance at Bulbasaur. Even the Professor seemed surprised at the thought of someone apparently choosing their starter solely to get a favorable type match-up.
Red bit his lip and nearly shook with anger. Charmander felt his new trainer's strong emotions, and perceived right away that the source of the problem was the blue turtle on the floor. The tension between the two sides was running so high that a fight seemed inevitable, but one factor got in the way. Red was so disgusted by Blue's first action as a trainer that his constant desire to fight him was replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach. Instead of making a challenge he turned around and started to leave, but Blue would have none of it. "Hey, Red! Don't tell me you're chickening out now! Stay and battle, unless your little baby of a Pokémon can't handle it!"
Red could never ignore an insult of Blue's. He let Charmander down to the floor, and put his game face on.
Professor Oak then said, "Now boys, there's a lot of fragile, volatile stuff here, so try to—"
"Squirtle, use Tackle!"
"Charmander, use Scratch!"
Not many other words were said over the course of the fight except for the odd "Tail-Whip," or "Growl." But with the way the Pokémon threw their bodies into it one would think it was a Gym battle. After many blows were exchanged, though, Charmander landed one last Scratch just before Squirtle could land what would have been one last Tackle. Squirtle was down for the count, and Charmander was still standing. The little thing was beaten up and worn out, but he was still just as happy to win as Red was.
"Yes!! All right, Charmander!" Red scooped up his smiling Pokémon, and pumped his fist in the air. To his utter shock though, Blue was not angry. On the contrary, he was stifling a chuckle for a few seconds before he finally burst out laughing. Again, Squirtle was lying knocked out on the floor, and Blue was laughing. That alone was enough to wipe all the joy from Red's face.
"Oh my god, are you serious, Red! Are you like five years old or something?" Red was at a loss for words. Blue continued.
"You're acting like winning a battle between two midget Pokémon who don't know any special moves is some big accomplishment! How lame can you get?"
Red's jaw dropped. He knew that what Blue was saying was technically true, but he also knew that if Blue had won he'd be rubbing it in his face. Blue always got the first and last words, and Red had never found the verbal command or confidence to handle it. This had only gotten worse as they grew older, and it didn't look like Blue would let him get the last word through Pokémon battling either. Red decided he had had enough, and stormed out of the lab so he could get Charmander some rest at home.
"Hey 'champ,' smell you later! Ha ha!" shouted Blue behind him as he left.
The Professor meanwhile was merely relieved that the damage to his laboratory was negligible. He decided he would hand his new invention over to the boys later when they had cooled off.
*****
And so Red's journey proper would have to wait until morning. He sat at the kitchen table that night with his mother while Charmander was making the most of his bed upstairs. He still seethed from what happened at the lab, so much so that he barely processed what his mother was saying.
"…because the thing is, Red, you just get so intense about things sometimes. I want you to make a point to slow down every so often; for your Pokémon's sake definitely, but also for yours. This is a wonderful time of your life you've reached, but only if you spend it growing friendships. Charmander seems to be warming up to you already, so make sure you treat him like he deserves. You'll have so more much to share together that way. Okay, kiddo?"
"Hmm," said Red.
"So remember: put your Pokémon first, and beating Blue second."
What Red heard was this: "Blah blah: blah blah blah blah, blah blah Stupid Butthead blah."
"Right, Mom."
The next morning came too quickly for Red's mother. She just caught her son by the door before the sun was up for one last hug, and then he was gone. She prayed that some of what she had tried to teach him over the years had sunken in, because it was all out of her hands now.
October, 1996:
Touching down after teleportation was always disorienting, but when he reached the 7th floor of the Silph Co. building Red was starting to get used to it. By his best guess he had already handled most of the Rockets in the facility, and though he was down three Pokémon, the three that were ready were his strongest. They were long odds to be sure, but Red was determined to finish the enemy on this run. Every minute that Team Rocket's leadership stayed at large was an unacceptable loss in his book. But still, his team was weak, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it without some kind of help.
As he turned around a corner, his day got worse but his odds got better. Blue was waiting there, and though it made Red ill to even entertain the notion, they would have to work together if Team Rocket was to be beaten once and for all.
"What took you so long, Red? Were all those big, bad Grunts giving you a hard time? I'm actually a little disappointed they managed to slow you down so much!" Blue then removed a Pokéball from his belt and let out his Pidgeot. "My team's ready. Let's see what you've got!"
Red was beyond furious. Blue had been sitting on his ass while the biggest threat to peace and happiness in the entire region had been running rampant—all so he could start a battle with a massive advantage. Red was tempted to walk right past him, but League rules dictated that he had to accept the challenge, and he couldn't risk losing his Pokémon License now. He uttered all sorts of curses under his breath, added "Kid Hitler" to his mental list of alternate names for Blue, and took out his Pikachu's Pokéball.
The result of the battle, of course, was a foregone conclusion. Not only were all five of Blue's Pokémon healthy, but because Red had six in total the three who were ready were not as thoroughly trained as Blue's. Still, the fight was much closer than it should have been. This was due to the deliberate, arrogant laziness in Blue's strategy. Red's Pikachu took out Blue's Pidgeot and Alakazam before falling to Growlithe; and his Machoke finished off Growlithe and made decent progress on Blue's Exeggcute as well before fainting.
Then it all came down to Charmeleon, and Red felt sick having to bring him out. Exeggcute wasn't a problem, but he knew where the battle had to go after that, and victory wasn't a remote possibility. After Exeggcute was torched—which Blue took without any change in his awful grin—out came the other starter. Red's heart sank further when instead of the Wartortle he had expected there appeared a recently evolved Blastoise. It killed him to see how undaunted and determined Charmeleon still was at the sight of his oldest foe. The poor lizard didn't understand how badly he was going to lose.
The outcome was quick, but not painless. Charmeleon managed to get in close enough to jump and land a Slash across Blastoise's face, but only because Blastoise didn't seem to be too invested in the outcome of the fight. The giant turtle needed no effort to win here; as soon as he aimed his shoulder cannons and fired two jets of water, it was over.
"Ha! What a joke! I hate to say it, Red, but if you can't beat someone when they don't even try to win, maybe you should reevaluate your goals. Look into a career at a PokéMart or the Day Care, perhaps? Well, I've got the Champion to beat, so why don't you just move it and I'll be on my way!"
Red returned his soaked, unconscious friend to his Pokéball, and clenched his fists. His eyes started welling up, and his face grew deeply flushed. Nothing was fair about it in the slightest, and he couldn't hold it in. Though he knew it would have no effect on Blue at all, he finally let loose the speech that had been festering in his mind for months.
"Keep laughing, Blue. You just keep laughing. Cause who knows? Maybe you're right. Maybe you will be the next Champion. But you know what? Even if you can beat everyone else in this whole stupid region, you've still got one problem.
"You're an arrogant, slave-driving, despicable excuse for a human being, and your Pokémon know it. One of these days I'm going to get you in a fair fight, even if it means I have to save all my medicine until after the Elite Four. Then the winning team will be the one that puts it all on the line. And when it comes to guts and heart, your team loses. Your team loses big. Your team straight-up sucks.
"So go ahead, get that title, and enjoy it while you can, cause I swear to god Blue you will never be Champion for longer than one lousy day."
Blue's was holding back laughter throughout Red's entire spiel. He was trying to look cool but he was unable to get over how hilarious the notion of Red beating him in the end was. It didn't matter that Red had won half of their battles until now. In Blue's mind his own superiority over every other trainer was absolute, and he only ever lost because some opponents just weren't worth his full attention. In spite of all the evidence that Red put up the toughest battles he had ever faced, and even in spite of his own deeper feelings of resentment, he still considered Red one of these wastes of effort.
"That's touching, Red, really! Why don't you go back home and tell your mommy all about it? I'm sure she'll say it's okay if you lose because you're still her special little snowflake. We don't call her the hooker with a heart of gold because she's mean! So like I already said, I've got more important things to do. Go take a shower so I won't have to smell you later!"
Since Blastoise was still out of his Pokéball, Red had no chance to break Blue's nose however much he wanted to. As the other two left the room via the teleportation pad, Red rubbed his eyes and muttered under his breath, "One day. That is all he'll get.
"One.
"Lousy.
"Day."
*****
The following afternoon was pleasantly warm, and Red spent it by a river with his Pokémon out of their balls. He laid back, watched Pikachu and Charmeleon play-wrestle, and even joined in at one point. By now he could play with them in this manner without getting shocked or burned even once. It had taken a lot of patience and practice to get to that point, both for him and the Pokémon. It was worth it though, even if only to have something to distract him from Blue.
As he watched his Pokémon, Red could see that when his partners were away from battle they had no cares in the world. They had their adversaries, but there were no demons that haunted them. Truth be told, it made Red a little irritated that he could foster a better attitude in his Pokémon than he could in himself.
Someday he hoped to be as free from worry and anger as his team was, but if he tried to be so free now he would only be lying to himself. He knew that if Blue became the face of the Pokémon League in Kanto and no one displaced him, he could be a terrible influence on a whole generation of new trainers. Even though the emotions driving Red were entirely personal, he knew that it was truly his obligation to stop Blue and to do it in the right way. If fulfilling that obligation meant satisfying a vendetta, there was nothing he could do about that.
Especially on a nice day like this when he was surrounded by his carefree partners, Red's conscience was clear.
February, 1997:
The sky was dark and the ground was cold, but it didn't matter. The eyes of the Pokémon world were on an event that only took place indoors: a challenge for the title of Champion. Every major newspaper in the region had at least two people at the Indigo Plateau covering it, and they had all written lavish essays on Blue's stunningly calculated victory that were ready to publish. It was a journalist's dream come true: the record for youngest Champion had stood since before the invention of the Potion, and now Blue had beaten it by seven years.
This had all taken place several hours ago, and now the same reporters were again on the edge of their seats to see if the record could be broken twice in the same day. This new challenger Red was in fact younger than Blue by a handful of weeks, and he had come out of Victory Road just as Blue had claimed the title. They had never heard of this new one before, but now they were getting calls from all over hearing stories of the boy's role in the fall of Team Rocket. They started writing new articles even as the fight between Red and Blue began.
The battle itself was a long affair—far too long to relay in full. The challenger had arrived with six monsters all unhurt and he had three full restores to spare. The Champion was in the same boat, and there were no lazy tactics to be seen. Pokémon were switched in and out at a feverish pace, and it took over half an hour for both teams to get beaten down to the last handful of fighters.
Red had Pikachu in the field and Charizard in reserve. Both were badly hurt, and all his items were spent.
Blue was out of medicine as well and his Arcanine had just fainted; but his last Pokémon was Blastoise, who had not even come out yet.
At this point there was break in the action that went uninterrupted for at least twenty seconds without any noise coming from either side. The air was filled with dust from the damage that had been done to the stone floor, and the walls were covered in scorch marks and cracks. Red's face was covered in sweat, and he hadn't broken his glare since the start of the fight. Blue was expressionless. If Red had been closer, he might have noticed the tiniest droplet of perspiration on his enemy's forehead, but that was it. Still, the mere absence of smugness in Blue's face spoke volumes.
When the silence was broken, though, Blue risked a smile again. "It's over, Red. We both know there's only one way things can go from here."
Red said nothing, and Blue took the last ball from his belt.
"Go, Blastoise!"
The difference in size between the turtle and the mouse would have intimidated anyone who didn't know better, but both Red and Pikachu knew better.
"Thunder!"
"Blizzard!"
It was like Armageddon. Both Pokémon sent massive bursts of energy into the air, and the tall ceiling was completely hidden by flashes of electricity and torrents of hail. Both trainers hid their faces from the glare and the cold, and only the spectators watching over surveillance video could see what happened next. The entire building shook and both Pokémon started moving to make themselves harder targets to hit. But the tower of lightning struck Blastoise and the mass of ice crushed Pikachu.
Pikachu could never have withstood a direct hit while hurt so badly, and was out. Both trainers now dared to look at Blastoise, who was lying prostrate with eyes closed and limbs twitching from the shock. To Red's dismay, though, the turtle got his arms and legs under control and managed to stand up.
Blue lost his composure but found it again quickly. "Nice try, Red! Time to face the inevitable!"
Red almost broke down. He could tell that Blastoise was not hurt enough for there to be a decent chance of winning. He had taken every factor into his reckoning, and Charizard's speed and strength were not enough to overcome Blastoise's defense and type advantage. If Blastoise were only a little weaker, it would have been basically an even chance, but this was wishful thinking.
If Red were to win, his dear Charizard would have to surprise him.
With a weak, unsure hand Red took the last ball from his belt. Before he threw it, though, he brought it to his lips and began to whisper. He could see Blue snicker, and he knew then that Blue had never understood the most important thing about Pokémon.
"This is it, pal. It doesn't look good, and that's my fault, not yours. Whatever happens, I won't be sad, and that's cause I know you're going to give it your very best. I am so, so proud of you, and don't you forget it. Now go get him."
He brought his arm back and tossed the ball high into the air.
"Go! Charizard!"
The ball opened mid-flight, and Charizard let loose as loud a cry as he could muster.
"Slash!"
"Hydro Pump!"
Blastoise shot the fiercest columns of water anyone watching had ever seen toward the ceiling. He had been too hasty though, and his aim hadn't accounted for Charizard's flight path. The winged lizard folded his wings and dove. The first move was a miss.
As Charizard leveled out and began to fly directly at Blastoise, the giant turtle took more care and aimed another blast. This one was lacking in force, though, and Charizard just managed to spin out of the way. The second move was also a miss.
It happened fast, but Red could see frustration and fatigue in Blastoise's face. Blue's Pokémon didn't see why it should still have to be fighting this battle. On the other side, Blue could see nothing but determination and fire in Charizard's eyes, even as the rest of his body signaled exhaustion.
The impact was hard. Charizard knocked Blastoise off balance and dug his claws deep into his face. They tumbled, and Blastoise opened his mouth to try one last Bite, but Charizard delivered another Slash which turned away his opponent's jaw.
They rolled to a stop, and it became very quiet. Then Charizard slowly stood to his feet, while Blastoise simply closed his eyes and stopped moving. All the lights in the room turned on. There was a new Champion.
Blue fell to his knees, and simply muttered, "How?"
He couldn't have the last word today.
Charizard meanwhile craned his neck to face his trainer, and opened his mouth in the closest thing to a smile one ever sees from a Charizard. In response, Red beamed and cheered like he never had before. He sprinted across the ruined floor and right into Charizard's open arms. "Yes!! You did it, Charizard! You really did it!!"
Despite his aches and wounds Charizard let out a deep and happy growl, and Red laughed on and on.
Professor Oak now stood at the other end of the room, and he smiled at the happy scene. It was a little disappointing to see his grandson lose the title so quickly, but he knew that Blue had plenty of time to learn from the fundamental mistakes in his approach to Pokémon. And as for Red, he could see that his hope from nearly ten years ago was coming to fruition. The rivalry had driven Red to excellence, and more importantly his love for Pokémon had made him a model for all future Champions to follow.
When the Professor decided that Blue had suffered Red's loud celebration long enough, he walked over to give them a little speech, and wondered if now he could turn their efforts as rivals toward the PokéDex.
*****
Back in Pallet Town the next day, Red sat with his mother at the kitchen table and shared all his adventures and lessons with her. He spoke at great length of how he had figured out what Blue had missed—that Pokémon need to hear the right words, even if they don't quite get proper language or at least don't always listen to it. His mother, of course, had been making use of this lesson herself for quite some time in the context of parenting. She smiled, so glad that it had all sunken in, and enjoyed listening to the rest of the story.
April, 2014:
Now that we're finished with that little diversion, we can return to our hero Calem. Calem was now effectively the top trainer in Kalos. Challenging the Elite Four and the Champion were the only things required to make it official.
His journey hadn't always been easy. Sometimes he was forced down to twenty hyper potions and only 200,000 PokéYen. Some of the wild Pokémon he encountered were too strong to handle by throwing a Quick Ball. Worst of all, his magically fast roller skates only worked on 95% of flat surfaces and not all of the stairs.
Fortunately, none of these hardships bothered him too much, because as mentioned before everyone was always super-nice to Calem (except for some weirdos named Team Flare, but they were generally too silly and terrible at Pokémon to be much cause for concern).
If there was one thing that sometimes maybe got a little bit on his nerves, it was his rivalry with his best friend Serena. Not the battles, though, those were easy. The reason it was occasionally frustrating will soon become apparent, as the two buddies were just about to meet each other on Victory Road.
"Bonjour, Calem!" said Serena as she caught up with her rival.
Calem smiled (he always smiled), and said, "Hi, Serena. It's lovely to see you today!" Serena smiled back, and Calem asked her, "What's up?"
Serena took on a more thoughtful expression, and said, "I've been thinking ever since that incident at Geosenge. Lysandre chose only Team Flare. You and I chose everyone but Team Flare. But since our positions forced our hands, you can't really say any of us were right.*"
Calem was silent for a few seconds. The frustrating thing about his wonderful friend/rival was that she was occasionally pretty thick. He tried to be patient with her.
She continued, "So maybe... If both sides have something to say, it's best to meet halfway...*"
Calem couldn't let this continue. "Serena, you can't meet halfway with someone who wants to kill almost everyone on the planet. Lysandre was insane and evil, does that make sense?"
Serena wasn't sure. "Hmmmmmm…"
"Try to understand, Serena. Lysandre was a genocidal maniac. We were the good guys. He tried to massacre billions. We tried to stop him without killing anyone. There's no moral equivalency here."
"Uhhhhh…"
"He was Fashion Hitler, Serena."
Serena shrugged. It just didn't sound artificially-even-handed enough for her sensibilities. "Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that we should have a Pokémon battle!"
They had a Pokémon battle.
Calem won and it was really quick and unexciting.
Serena snapped her fingers at the outcome of the fight, but didn't stop smiling. She then made another attempt at being thoughtful. "It's hard to put a finger on where, but I think you and I are alike. And that's why I didn't want to lose to you. But I think the reason we're alike is because we have so much in common.*"
This was almost too much. Calem put his palm to his face and muttered, "Those are literally the same thing, Serena."
Serena ignored him. "I'm really happy that we're friends. I'm renewing my rivalry with you!*"
She then gave Calem five Max Revives, because that is what rivals do.
Rivals are so nice.
*****
A few days later, Calem and his good friends Serena, Tierno, Shauna, and Trevor were sharing a table at a delightful café in Lumiose City. Now that he had demolished Team Flare, become the League Champion, and played a vague role in helping an ancient giant-man become at peace with himself and reunite with his dead Pokémon (don't ask), Calem had become something of a celebrity. His friends were all eager to hear the stories he had to tell.
"So what was Diantha like?" asked Shauna.
Calem was confused. "Who?"
"The former champion, silly!" answered Serena.
Calem had forgotten her name. "Oh. She was, uhh…"
"You don't remember?" asked Tierno in slight disbelief.
Calem scoured his brain. "Umm…I think she wore pink. No, maybe white? She was like an actress or something? I dunno."
His friends were disappointed. "Well, what kind of Pokémon did she have?" asked Trevor.
"She had a Gardevoir that mega-evolved. That was almost hard. And also some dinosaurs, and, umm…shoot."
Calem felt bad that he didn't have much of a story to share with his friends. He was pretty sure his adventures had been exciting, but now he was wondering if something hadn't been missing the whole time.
* Actual lines from the game. I can't make these up.
There are no edits; what follows is what was submitted to the judges. The prompt was "rivals/rivalry." Enjoy!]
Back in the Day
March, 1999:
A woman in her mid-twenties named Grace sat on her porch watching the sunset with her baby son on her lap. At this stage in her life she was a new mother and also a twice-champion Pokémon racer. The latter fact was nowhere near as exciting as it sounds, because she was a Rhyhorn racer. For those who are unversed in Pokémon sports, Rhyhorn Racing is the fourth most boring of all professional Pokémon sports, behind only the Slowpoke Biathlon (non-aquatic), the 50 Yard Dash for Caterpie, and Shellder's Test Cricket. Suffice to say, Grace was not very interesting.
Her son, named Calem, was at this stage in his life only about as interesting as most babies are. His early childhood would turn out to be most pleasant. He would have a very even temperament, almost everyone would be super-nice to him, and he would become friends with all the kids he ever met.
Seriously.
All of them.
Every kid.
Anyway, it would not be until he reached early adolescence that Calem's life would become at all eventful. It became interesting as well, but only in an odd, paradoxical sense. Calem's life was interesting in that it was somehow incredibly boring despite his exceptional achievements. To understand this, however, we first need to take a look at what came before him.
September, 1987:
A woman in her mid-twenties marched into Professor Oak's laboratory in Pallet Town with a look of deep frustration on her face. She ignored the handful of aides who tried to intercept her near the entrance and went straight for the Pokémon Professor himself. She caught him near the back of the lab, and he didn't seem to know why she was upset.
"Ah! Good afternoon, Mrs.—"
The woman was in no mood for pleasantries. "Professor, I just got a call from the day care."
"I see. Is your Pokémon all ri—"
The woman was in no mood for this Pokémon nonsense either. "The human day care, Professor."
"Oh. No bad news, I hope?"
And most importantly, the woman was in no mood for bullsh*t. "No bad news? My son and your grandson have the proud distinction of being the first two-year-olds to be expelled from school for punching and kicking in the entire history of Kanto!"
Professor Oak was unmoved. "Yes, that's what they told me. I had a feeling those two would turn out to be pioneers in their field."
The young mother put her hands to her temples in disbelief. "This is serious! They drew blood for crying out loud! I'm having enough trouble raising Red as it is, and now I learn he's getting into fights and won't be able to stay at day care? Are you telling me you don't plan to do anything about this?"
"Calm down, now, please. I've done all I ought to do, and that was to pick up Red and Blue from the day care when I got the call (when I was right in the middle of a critical experiment, I might add). Now that you're back from work, you can take Red home and tomorrow we can talk to the day care people. That should be the end of that."
Red's mother looked around. She could see an aide who was keeping half an eye on little Blue (who fortunately couldn't reach the tables loaded with dangerous chemicals), but she couldn't see her own child. She got right in Oak's face and asked with a fierce glare, "Where's Red?"
Oak raised his arms in self-defense. "Hold on! I sent him back to my house with Daisy. She's a fine babysitter, and it's not like I can have Red and Blue together in the lab. My fire insurance premiums are high enough as it is."
Red's mother cooled down a little, but her head was still reeling. "I can't understand how this is such a non-issue to you, Professor. I just can't."
The Professor then took on a sterner tone and expression, something he only did when he spoke of larger issues in the world of Pokémon. "On the contrary, my dear, this is a very big issue for me. In all my long years, I have never seen two babies who had in for each other like these two have. If they also have the aptitude for Pokémon training that runs in their families, they could drive each other to heights that have only been dreamed of before. I sincerely believe that our little boys will grow up to be giants."
Red's mother just shook her head. "If it means they don't turn out to be good people, I don't think I can share your enthusiasm."
She then left to pick up her son from the Oak residence. The Professor stood where he was for a while and fiddled with a small, incomplete electronic device in his pocket.
February, 1996:
The day had finally arrived. Red darted out of his house wearing a light jacket, and didn't even notice the cold weather. When his mind was on Pokémon seasons meant nothing to him, and today he would finally get his first Pokémon and head out to travel to every corner of the region. It would be just him, his new best friend whom he was about to meet, a bag with one pocket for items, no cell phone (Because what was a cell phone, anyway? Was that even a thing?), and all the new and exciting Pokémon and trainers he would run into in the wild. He couldn't think of anything that could ruin this day for him.
And then he entered his neighbor Professor Oak's lab, and he remembered that there was always one thing that could ruin literally everything good in life: Blue. And who should be standing in the back of the lab with that smug, entitled, punch-able look on his face but Blue himself.
Red and Blue had stopped compulsively hitting each other whenever they were in the same room three years ago, but the tensions had not calmed down in the slightest. This reminded Red of the other reason he was so excited about today, which was that now with Pokémon they'd be able to beat each other up metaphorically and vicariously without fear of adult reprisal. Pokémon battling might not bring the same visceral satisfaction that kicking Blue in the teeth did, but that was the price of being all grown up and mature now. The two exchanged extremely inappropriate gestures before Professor Oak turned around and noticed that Red had arrived.
"Ah! Good morning, Re—"
"Cut to the chase, Gramps, I've been waiting here for hours!" said Blue.
If the Professor was annoyed at the interruption, he didn't show it. Perhaps it influenced what he said next, though. "Fine, then. Red, why don't you pick first? One of these three Pokémon on the table is yours."
Blue's outrage was just barely contained, but he didn't risk mouthing off more than he already had. Red kept a straight face, but inside he relished the little jerk's indignation. Best of all, he could make this most important decision on his own terms. The three Pokémon available would all make wonderful partners (which was entirely thanks to the Professor, though the young boys didn't appreciate this at the time), so it was just a matter of finding the one that felt right. Red looked at the Charmander, Squirtle, and Bulbasaur through the translucent tops of their Pokéballs, and tried to spot the one sign that one of them was meant for him. He knew it had to be there.
And there it was. The slightest, subtlest glint in Charmander's eye was like a whisper, 'Take me with you!' Red had found his new friend, and without hesitation picked up his ball and let him out.
The little lizard jumped right into Red's arms with a cute, tiny growl, and even the heat from his tail brought a smile to the boy's face. "Thank you, Professor!"
"Ah, you've chosen the fire Pokémon, Charmander! This Pokémon is very ener—"
"My turn!"
What happened next should be enough to convince you that even if he wasn't the worst person in human history like Red thought, Blue still wasn't a very good kid. He walked right over to Squirtle's Pokéball and let him out without as much as a glance at Bulbasaur. Even the Professor seemed surprised at the thought of someone apparently choosing their starter solely to get a favorable type match-up.
Red bit his lip and nearly shook with anger. Charmander felt his new trainer's strong emotions, and perceived right away that the source of the problem was the blue turtle on the floor. The tension between the two sides was running so high that a fight seemed inevitable, but one factor got in the way. Red was so disgusted by Blue's first action as a trainer that his constant desire to fight him was replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach. Instead of making a challenge he turned around and started to leave, but Blue would have none of it. "Hey, Red! Don't tell me you're chickening out now! Stay and battle, unless your little baby of a Pokémon can't handle it!"
Red could never ignore an insult of Blue's. He let Charmander down to the floor, and put his game face on.
Professor Oak then said, "Now boys, there's a lot of fragile, volatile stuff here, so try to—"
"Squirtle, use Tackle!"
"Charmander, use Scratch!"
Not many other words were said over the course of the fight except for the odd "Tail-Whip," or "Growl." But with the way the Pokémon threw their bodies into it one would think it was a Gym battle. After many blows were exchanged, though, Charmander landed one last Scratch just before Squirtle could land what would have been one last Tackle. Squirtle was down for the count, and Charmander was still standing. The little thing was beaten up and worn out, but he was still just as happy to win as Red was.
"Yes!! All right, Charmander!" Red scooped up his smiling Pokémon, and pumped his fist in the air. To his utter shock though, Blue was not angry. On the contrary, he was stifling a chuckle for a few seconds before he finally burst out laughing. Again, Squirtle was lying knocked out on the floor, and Blue was laughing. That alone was enough to wipe all the joy from Red's face.
"Oh my god, are you serious, Red! Are you like five years old or something?" Red was at a loss for words. Blue continued.
"You're acting like winning a battle between two midget Pokémon who don't know any special moves is some big accomplishment! How lame can you get?"
Red's jaw dropped. He knew that what Blue was saying was technically true, but he also knew that if Blue had won he'd be rubbing it in his face. Blue always got the first and last words, and Red had never found the verbal command or confidence to handle it. This had only gotten worse as they grew older, and it didn't look like Blue would let him get the last word through Pokémon battling either. Red decided he had had enough, and stormed out of the lab so he could get Charmander some rest at home.
"Hey 'champ,' smell you later! Ha ha!" shouted Blue behind him as he left.
The Professor meanwhile was merely relieved that the damage to his laboratory was negligible. He decided he would hand his new invention over to the boys later when they had cooled off.
*****
And so Red's journey proper would have to wait until morning. He sat at the kitchen table that night with his mother while Charmander was making the most of his bed upstairs. He still seethed from what happened at the lab, so much so that he barely processed what his mother was saying.
"…because the thing is, Red, you just get so intense about things sometimes. I want you to make a point to slow down every so often; for your Pokémon's sake definitely, but also for yours. This is a wonderful time of your life you've reached, but only if you spend it growing friendships. Charmander seems to be warming up to you already, so make sure you treat him like he deserves. You'll have so more much to share together that way. Okay, kiddo?"
"Hmm," said Red.
"So remember: put your Pokémon first, and beating Blue second."
What Red heard was this: "Blah blah: blah blah blah blah, blah blah Stupid Butthead blah."
"Right, Mom."
The next morning came too quickly for Red's mother. She just caught her son by the door before the sun was up for one last hug, and then he was gone. She prayed that some of what she had tried to teach him over the years had sunken in, because it was all out of her hands now.
October, 1996:
Touching down after teleportation was always disorienting, but when he reached the 7th floor of the Silph Co. building Red was starting to get used to it. By his best guess he had already handled most of the Rockets in the facility, and though he was down three Pokémon, the three that were ready were his strongest. They were long odds to be sure, but Red was determined to finish the enemy on this run. Every minute that Team Rocket's leadership stayed at large was an unacceptable loss in his book. But still, his team was weak, and he wasn't sure if he could handle it without some kind of help.
As he turned around a corner, his day got worse but his odds got better. Blue was waiting there, and though it made Red ill to even entertain the notion, they would have to work together if Team Rocket was to be beaten once and for all.
"What took you so long, Red? Were all those big, bad Grunts giving you a hard time? I'm actually a little disappointed they managed to slow you down so much!" Blue then removed a Pokéball from his belt and let out his Pidgeot. "My team's ready. Let's see what you've got!"
Red was beyond furious. Blue had been sitting on his ass while the biggest threat to peace and happiness in the entire region had been running rampant—all so he could start a battle with a massive advantage. Red was tempted to walk right past him, but League rules dictated that he had to accept the challenge, and he couldn't risk losing his Pokémon License now. He uttered all sorts of curses under his breath, added "Kid Hitler" to his mental list of alternate names for Blue, and took out his Pikachu's Pokéball.
The result of the battle, of course, was a foregone conclusion. Not only were all five of Blue's Pokémon healthy, but because Red had six in total the three who were ready were not as thoroughly trained as Blue's. Still, the fight was much closer than it should have been. This was due to the deliberate, arrogant laziness in Blue's strategy. Red's Pikachu took out Blue's Pidgeot and Alakazam before falling to Growlithe; and his Machoke finished off Growlithe and made decent progress on Blue's Exeggcute as well before fainting.
Then it all came down to Charmeleon, and Red felt sick having to bring him out. Exeggcute wasn't a problem, but he knew where the battle had to go after that, and victory wasn't a remote possibility. After Exeggcute was torched—which Blue took without any change in his awful grin—out came the other starter. Red's heart sank further when instead of the Wartortle he had expected there appeared a recently evolved Blastoise. It killed him to see how undaunted and determined Charmeleon still was at the sight of his oldest foe. The poor lizard didn't understand how badly he was going to lose.
The outcome was quick, but not painless. Charmeleon managed to get in close enough to jump and land a Slash across Blastoise's face, but only because Blastoise didn't seem to be too invested in the outcome of the fight. The giant turtle needed no effort to win here; as soon as he aimed his shoulder cannons and fired two jets of water, it was over.
"Ha! What a joke! I hate to say it, Red, but if you can't beat someone when they don't even try to win, maybe you should reevaluate your goals. Look into a career at a PokéMart or the Day Care, perhaps? Well, I've got the Champion to beat, so why don't you just move it and I'll be on my way!"
Red returned his soaked, unconscious friend to his Pokéball, and clenched his fists. His eyes started welling up, and his face grew deeply flushed. Nothing was fair about it in the slightest, and he couldn't hold it in. Though he knew it would have no effect on Blue at all, he finally let loose the speech that had been festering in his mind for months.
"Keep laughing, Blue. You just keep laughing. Cause who knows? Maybe you're right. Maybe you will be the next Champion. But you know what? Even if you can beat everyone else in this whole stupid region, you've still got one problem.
"You're an arrogant, slave-driving, despicable excuse for a human being, and your Pokémon know it. One of these days I'm going to get you in a fair fight, even if it means I have to save all my medicine until after the Elite Four. Then the winning team will be the one that puts it all on the line. And when it comes to guts and heart, your team loses. Your team loses big. Your team straight-up sucks.
"So go ahead, get that title, and enjoy it while you can, cause I swear to god Blue you will never be Champion for longer than one lousy day."
Blue's was holding back laughter throughout Red's entire spiel. He was trying to look cool but he was unable to get over how hilarious the notion of Red beating him in the end was. It didn't matter that Red had won half of their battles until now. In Blue's mind his own superiority over every other trainer was absolute, and he only ever lost because some opponents just weren't worth his full attention. In spite of all the evidence that Red put up the toughest battles he had ever faced, and even in spite of his own deeper feelings of resentment, he still considered Red one of these wastes of effort.
"That's touching, Red, really! Why don't you go back home and tell your mommy all about it? I'm sure she'll say it's okay if you lose because you're still her special little snowflake. We don't call her the hooker with a heart of gold because she's mean! So like I already said, I've got more important things to do. Go take a shower so I won't have to smell you later!"
Since Blastoise was still out of his Pokéball, Red had no chance to break Blue's nose however much he wanted to. As the other two left the room via the teleportation pad, Red rubbed his eyes and muttered under his breath, "One day. That is all he'll get.
"One.
"Lousy.
"Day."
*****
The following afternoon was pleasantly warm, and Red spent it by a river with his Pokémon out of their balls. He laid back, watched Pikachu and Charmeleon play-wrestle, and even joined in at one point. By now he could play with them in this manner without getting shocked or burned even once. It had taken a lot of patience and practice to get to that point, both for him and the Pokémon. It was worth it though, even if only to have something to distract him from Blue.
As he watched his Pokémon, Red could see that when his partners were away from battle they had no cares in the world. They had their adversaries, but there were no demons that haunted them. Truth be told, it made Red a little irritated that he could foster a better attitude in his Pokémon than he could in himself.
Someday he hoped to be as free from worry and anger as his team was, but if he tried to be so free now he would only be lying to himself. He knew that if Blue became the face of the Pokémon League in Kanto and no one displaced him, he could be a terrible influence on a whole generation of new trainers. Even though the emotions driving Red were entirely personal, he knew that it was truly his obligation to stop Blue and to do it in the right way. If fulfilling that obligation meant satisfying a vendetta, there was nothing he could do about that.
Especially on a nice day like this when he was surrounded by his carefree partners, Red's conscience was clear.
February, 1997:
The sky was dark and the ground was cold, but it didn't matter. The eyes of the Pokémon world were on an event that only took place indoors: a challenge for the title of Champion. Every major newspaper in the region had at least two people at the Indigo Plateau covering it, and they had all written lavish essays on Blue's stunningly calculated victory that were ready to publish. It was a journalist's dream come true: the record for youngest Champion had stood since before the invention of the Potion, and now Blue had beaten it by seven years.
This had all taken place several hours ago, and now the same reporters were again on the edge of their seats to see if the record could be broken twice in the same day. This new challenger Red was in fact younger than Blue by a handful of weeks, and he had come out of Victory Road just as Blue had claimed the title. They had never heard of this new one before, but now they were getting calls from all over hearing stories of the boy's role in the fall of Team Rocket. They started writing new articles even as the fight between Red and Blue began.
The battle itself was a long affair—far too long to relay in full. The challenger had arrived with six monsters all unhurt and he had three full restores to spare. The Champion was in the same boat, and there were no lazy tactics to be seen. Pokémon were switched in and out at a feverish pace, and it took over half an hour for both teams to get beaten down to the last handful of fighters.
Red had Pikachu in the field and Charizard in reserve. Both were badly hurt, and all his items were spent.
Blue was out of medicine as well and his Arcanine had just fainted; but his last Pokémon was Blastoise, who had not even come out yet.
At this point there was break in the action that went uninterrupted for at least twenty seconds without any noise coming from either side. The air was filled with dust from the damage that had been done to the stone floor, and the walls were covered in scorch marks and cracks. Red's face was covered in sweat, and he hadn't broken his glare since the start of the fight. Blue was expressionless. If Red had been closer, he might have noticed the tiniest droplet of perspiration on his enemy's forehead, but that was it. Still, the mere absence of smugness in Blue's face spoke volumes.
When the silence was broken, though, Blue risked a smile again. "It's over, Red. We both know there's only one way things can go from here."
Red said nothing, and Blue took the last ball from his belt.
"Go, Blastoise!"
The difference in size between the turtle and the mouse would have intimidated anyone who didn't know better, but both Red and Pikachu knew better.
"Thunder!"
"Blizzard!"
It was like Armageddon. Both Pokémon sent massive bursts of energy into the air, and the tall ceiling was completely hidden by flashes of electricity and torrents of hail. Both trainers hid their faces from the glare and the cold, and only the spectators watching over surveillance video could see what happened next. The entire building shook and both Pokémon started moving to make themselves harder targets to hit. But the tower of lightning struck Blastoise and the mass of ice crushed Pikachu.
Pikachu could never have withstood a direct hit while hurt so badly, and was out. Both trainers now dared to look at Blastoise, who was lying prostrate with eyes closed and limbs twitching from the shock. To Red's dismay, though, the turtle got his arms and legs under control and managed to stand up.
Blue lost his composure but found it again quickly. "Nice try, Red! Time to face the inevitable!"
Red almost broke down. He could tell that Blastoise was not hurt enough for there to be a decent chance of winning. He had taken every factor into his reckoning, and Charizard's speed and strength were not enough to overcome Blastoise's defense and type advantage. If Blastoise were only a little weaker, it would have been basically an even chance, but this was wishful thinking.
If Red were to win, his dear Charizard would have to surprise him.
With a weak, unsure hand Red took the last ball from his belt. Before he threw it, though, he brought it to his lips and began to whisper. He could see Blue snicker, and he knew then that Blue had never understood the most important thing about Pokémon.
"This is it, pal. It doesn't look good, and that's my fault, not yours. Whatever happens, I won't be sad, and that's cause I know you're going to give it your very best. I am so, so proud of you, and don't you forget it. Now go get him."
He brought his arm back and tossed the ball high into the air.
"Go! Charizard!"
The ball opened mid-flight, and Charizard let loose as loud a cry as he could muster.
"Slash!"
"Hydro Pump!"
Blastoise shot the fiercest columns of water anyone watching had ever seen toward the ceiling. He had been too hasty though, and his aim hadn't accounted for Charizard's flight path. The winged lizard folded his wings and dove. The first move was a miss.
As Charizard leveled out and began to fly directly at Blastoise, the giant turtle took more care and aimed another blast. This one was lacking in force, though, and Charizard just managed to spin out of the way. The second move was also a miss.
It happened fast, but Red could see frustration and fatigue in Blastoise's face. Blue's Pokémon didn't see why it should still have to be fighting this battle. On the other side, Blue could see nothing but determination and fire in Charizard's eyes, even as the rest of his body signaled exhaustion.
The impact was hard. Charizard knocked Blastoise off balance and dug his claws deep into his face. They tumbled, and Blastoise opened his mouth to try one last Bite, but Charizard delivered another Slash which turned away his opponent's jaw.
They rolled to a stop, and it became very quiet. Then Charizard slowly stood to his feet, while Blastoise simply closed his eyes and stopped moving. All the lights in the room turned on. There was a new Champion.
Blue fell to his knees, and simply muttered, "How?"
He couldn't have the last word today.
Charizard meanwhile craned his neck to face his trainer, and opened his mouth in the closest thing to a smile one ever sees from a Charizard. In response, Red beamed and cheered like he never had before. He sprinted across the ruined floor and right into Charizard's open arms. "Yes!! You did it, Charizard! You really did it!!"
Despite his aches and wounds Charizard let out a deep and happy growl, and Red laughed on and on.
Professor Oak now stood at the other end of the room, and he smiled at the happy scene. It was a little disappointing to see his grandson lose the title so quickly, but he knew that Blue had plenty of time to learn from the fundamental mistakes in his approach to Pokémon. And as for Red, he could see that his hope from nearly ten years ago was coming to fruition. The rivalry had driven Red to excellence, and more importantly his love for Pokémon had made him a model for all future Champions to follow.
When the Professor decided that Blue had suffered Red's loud celebration long enough, he walked over to give them a little speech, and wondered if now he could turn their efforts as rivals toward the PokéDex.
*****
Back in Pallet Town the next day, Red sat with his mother at the kitchen table and shared all his adventures and lessons with her. He spoke at great length of how he had figured out what Blue had missed—that Pokémon need to hear the right words, even if they don't quite get proper language or at least don't always listen to it. His mother, of course, had been making use of this lesson herself for quite some time in the context of parenting. She smiled, so glad that it had all sunken in, and enjoyed listening to the rest of the story.
April, 2014:
Now that we're finished with that little diversion, we can return to our hero Calem. Calem was now effectively the top trainer in Kalos. Challenging the Elite Four and the Champion were the only things required to make it official.
His journey hadn't always been easy. Sometimes he was forced down to twenty hyper potions and only 200,000 PokéYen. Some of the wild Pokémon he encountered were too strong to handle by throwing a Quick Ball. Worst of all, his magically fast roller skates only worked on 95% of flat surfaces and not all of the stairs.
Fortunately, none of these hardships bothered him too much, because as mentioned before everyone was always super-nice to Calem (except for some weirdos named Team Flare, but they were generally too silly and terrible at Pokémon to be much cause for concern).
If there was one thing that sometimes maybe got a little bit on his nerves, it was his rivalry with his best friend Serena. Not the battles, though, those were easy. The reason it was occasionally frustrating will soon become apparent, as the two buddies were just about to meet each other on Victory Road.
"Bonjour, Calem!" said Serena as she caught up with her rival.
Calem smiled (he always smiled), and said, "Hi, Serena. It's lovely to see you today!" Serena smiled back, and Calem asked her, "What's up?"
Serena took on a more thoughtful expression, and said, "I've been thinking ever since that incident at Geosenge. Lysandre chose only Team Flare. You and I chose everyone but Team Flare. But since our positions forced our hands, you can't really say any of us were right.*"
Calem was silent for a few seconds. The frustrating thing about his wonderful friend/rival was that she was occasionally pretty thick. He tried to be patient with her.
She continued, "So maybe... If both sides have something to say, it's best to meet halfway...*"
Calem couldn't let this continue. "Serena, you can't meet halfway with someone who wants to kill almost everyone on the planet. Lysandre was insane and evil, does that make sense?"
Serena wasn't sure. "Hmmmmmm…"
"Try to understand, Serena. Lysandre was a genocidal maniac. We were the good guys. He tried to massacre billions. We tried to stop him without killing anyone. There's no moral equivalency here."
"Uhhhhh…"
"He was Fashion Hitler, Serena."
Serena shrugged. It just didn't sound artificially-even-handed enough for her sensibilities. "Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that we should have a Pokémon battle!"
They had a Pokémon battle.
Calem won and it was really quick and unexciting.
Serena snapped her fingers at the outcome of the fight, but didn't stop smiling. She then made another attempt at being thoughtful. "It's hard to put a finger on where, but I think you and I are alike. And that's why I didn't want to lose to you. But I think the reason we're alike is because we have so much in common.*"
This was almost too much. Calem put his palm to his face and muttered, "Those are literally the same thing, Serena."
Serena ignored him. "I'm really happy that we're friends. I'm renewing my rivalry with you!*"
She then gave Calem five Max Revives, because that is what rivals do.
Rivals are so nice.
*****
A few days later, Calem and his good friends Serena, Tierno, Shauna, and Trevor were sharing a table at a delightful café in Lumiose City. Now that he had demolished Team Flare, become the League Champion, and played a vague role in helping an ancient giant-man become at peace with himself and reunite with his dead Pokémon (don't ask), Calem had become something of a celebrity. His friends were all eager to hear the stories he had to tell.
"So what was Diantha like?" asked Shauna.
Calem was confused. "Who?"
"The former champion, silly!" answered Serena.
Calem had forgotten her name. "Oh. She was, uhh…"
"You don't remember?" asked Tierno in slight disbelief.
Calem scoured his brain. "Umm…I think she wore pink. No, maybe white? She was like an actress or something? I dunno."
His friends were disappointed. "Well, what kind of Pokémon did she have?" asked Trevor.
"She had a Gardevoir that mega-evolved. That was almost hard. And also some dinosaurs, and, umm…shoot."
Calem felt bad that he didn't have much of a story to share with his friends. He was pretty sure his adventures had been exciting, but now he was wondering if something hadn't been missing the whole time.
The End
* Actual lines from the game. I can't make these up.