Counter Reality

I don't own Pokémon.

AN: Okay. I was in a very odd mood when I came up with this idea. But I liked it, for all its awkwardness and self-mockery. I’m not sure you can have a Romance/Drama/Action-Adventure/Parody/Humour/Tragedy/Supernatural/Angst/Fantasy/Mystery/General fic (and as soon as I can figure out how to get Horror and Spiritual in, they’re in.)

Counter Reality is NOT going to be a journey/trainer fic, at least, not in the conventional sense of the word. I leave you to discover what it IS. All I'm saying for now is: Sometimes, you can twist something so far in the name of mockery that you end up back on the straight-up again...

1:

The red-haired boy was awake earlier than he’d have wanted. It had been another night of sleeping on the road, and he had dust in his hair and a stiffness in his muscles. Much as he wanted still to sleep, he enjoyed these waking moments when the sunshine shone through his eyelids. It was one of the pleasures of travelling, to wake up in the glow of the morning light.

It took a moment for him to realise why he felt uneasy, at first. It was simply the absence of a noise he’d heard every morning for months: the sound of birds singing. The landscape was almost silent. Must be a storm coming, he thought, knowing he should start looking for shelter right away, but reluctant to leave his patch of sunlit grass.

The sound of a bicycle bell brought him out of his sunlit doze. Irritated, he looked up.

A fair-haired girl was looking down at him. “Oh, I’m sorry…” she said softly, sweetly. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll just get past…”

Her gaze fixed on him, brilliant blue eyes shining above a playful smile. She was-- stunningly pretty, he thought, and then stared. Did I really just think that? Not only was he not attracted to the girl, but he didn't usually use the word pretty except as an insult-- and stunning didn't sound like his vocabulary either. He shook his head, dismissing the odd thought.

“Well, you did wake me,” he retorted. “Couldn’t you have got past without ringing the blinking bell?”

She didn’t seem to notice his frustration. “You’d better head for the city, you know. I think there’s going to be a storm. Have you noticed how quiet it is?”

“I’m not going to make it into the city today,” he muttered, thinking of the miles of rough terrain ahead. There was a long ride through the forest and a rocky slope before the nearest town was in sight.

“You could if you took the shortcut,” she suggested. “I’m going that way. There's a gym over there, and I can't wait for my first gym battle... I'm Serina Ellison, by the way, what's your name?...” As she rang her silver bell brightly, she continued to babble about her plans for the next few days, looking around every now and then to see if the boy was following.

"I bet you're going to be a Pokémon Master, too," he offered, hoping she was as oblivious of sarcasm as he guessed she might be.

"Of course," she smiled, flicking her hair with one finger. "I'm always thinking about reaching the League. I know I'll succeed. Can you imagine how it's going to be? Me and Angelbird, winning the trophy?"

Sheesh, he thought. Could you imagine worse company? A demented young trainer named Serina, who calls her Pokémon Angelbird and thinks gym battles are 'exciting' and just jams herself into other people's lives. She probably thinks I’m coming to the city with her now, just because she nearly ran over me on her bike.

There's something else, too, though. That's not all that's winding me up. Something about her is doing strange things to my mind...

It was around midday when the two bicycles-- one silver, one rose-petal pink-- stood, temporarily abandoned, by the roadside. The boy was eating a biscuit he’d taken from his rucksack, trying not to notice the sunlight-haired, gentle-eyed girl-- dash it, there he went again!-- sitting a short distance away.

He swore under his breath as he felt the lightness of the water bottle, then the wetness of the bag that had held it. "Darn thing must have sprung a leak."

"Here," called the girl from where she was sitting. "I've got some you can drink." Why was she watching me? he complained inwardly, and took the water with a sigh. It tasted as though the girl's sunscreen had got into it. It's pretty nasty... still, not the kind of stuff I'd give away to any old trainer on the road.

"That's the city down there," she said, breaking his train of thought. "We-- I mean, you could be there in a few hours if you keep going this way."

Handing the bottle back, he slung one leg meaningfully over his bicycle. "I'd better be going, then," he said, rather more sharply than he'd intended. "I have things to do."

"No, wait, wait..." Even as he started down the hill he heard her calling behind him. "Hold on. Can't I come with you?"

He slammed his feet down against the pedals, desperate to get away from this girl who seemed to set his nerves jangling more than anyone he'd ever met-- and yet, who was so unspeakably nice that he felt himself making excuses for her. She was no company for an experienced trainer on the road, he told himself. Just keep cycling!

It was a cry of shock that made him brake, a cry he knew wasn't directed at him. "Oh, my goodness... What's happened?"

Leaning the bike against a tree, he scrambled up the slope to where the girl-- Serina, he told himself with a shudder-- was standing, looking at something slightly ahead of her.

It was only a Spearow, hovering in the air above the forest floor, its wings outstretched. He sighed. "You called me back to look at a stupid Spearow?"

"I did not call you back," she retorted, indignant. "And besides, I think something's wrong with this Spearow. I nearly rode into it and it didn't even twitch. I can sense when Pokémon aren't OK, you know. I have intuition about that sort of thing."

Smart alec idiot. "Let me look at it, then."

He reached out, and touched the Spearow. There was no hint of movement in the Pokémon's body, no sign of life. It even felt cold to his touch. Was it dead?

Yet, there it was, still hovering in the air, not lying among the golden leaves as a fallen Pokémon would. It was airborne.

How could a lifeless Spearow still have the power to fly?

Perhaps he should take it. That was it. He lifted the bird in his outstretched hands and handed it to the girl, letting her cradle it. "C'mon. Put it in your satchel, or something, and we'll take it to the Pokémon Centre when we get into town."

"Do you think it'll be all right?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern.

"Who knows?" he snapped. "You're the one that's meant to be in tune with Pokémon, aren't you?"

He thought he caught the hint of an angry tear in her eye as she mounted her bicycle and began to pedal for all she was worth. The city lay below them, seeming to shine blue-lit beneath the late summer sky. Trying to look as though he wasn't following the girl and the Spearow, he headed for the tall buildings.

He didn't know, then, what else lay in the blue-shining horizon. Somewhere, down there, their presence would be a tiny change in a world altered beyond reason.