Chapter 16: Reunion
Chibi Pika
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Chapter 16: Reunion
The flight home felt much longer than the flight to the base. I made Flygon head west of Celadon to start with, that way the Rockets wouldn’t know that the base was to the east. Even a vague hint like that could be disastrous later on. Practically every instruction I gave was met with some kind of complaint from the Flygon, but at this point I was too tired to care, and he ended up following them in the end anyway.
Finally, after everything we’d gone through to get this far, we were met with the glorious sight of Kanto’s eastern coastline, with the silver light of the full moon glimmering off the waves. Just beyond that lay Midnight Island, and it had never looked more inviting. I’d only been gone for a few hours, but it had felt like forever. What time even was it? I pressed the button on my watch to illuminate its face, but nothing happened. Well, that was strange. Not that it really mattered what time it was—either way, the answer was “way too late.”
I pointed Flygon in the direction of Midnight Stadium and we drifted down toward it, his diamond-shaped wings buzzing with a lot less vigor than they had at the beginning of the flight. Finally the dragon touched down on the ground with a clumsy thud, immediately collapsing onto all fours.
“Damn it, why’d we have to fly so far?” Flygon gasped, his wings drooping. He’d probably never flown that far in his life. I almost would have felt bad for him… if he hadn’t tried to leave us all behind at the Rocket base.
“I already told you this is the safest place for us right now, unless you wanted to sleep in a random forest somewhere.” That got me shaken off his back in a hurry.
Chibi hopped a few feet from me, shaking out his fur while I picked myself up from the dirt and brushed off my pants.
“Alright, I did my part, I got everyone here. Now let out the others,” Flygon grumbled, folding his wings against his back.
I shrugged and grabbed two Pokéballs from my pocket, one red and one black, opening them to reveal twin flashes of light that took the forms of a white beast and a tall green mantis. And then Chibi froze, staring wide-eyed at Razors in total disbelief. In all the time I’d known him, I’d never seen him look so stunned. But then, this was his first real reunion with Razors in… how long? Years? How many years had Razors been brainwashed? How many years had Chibi been forced to view his companion as the enemy?
“Jade said she’d found you, but… some part of me didn’t believe her,” the Pikachu said quietly. “There’s no way. It can’t really be you.”
The Scyther stared back, his expression impossible to read. Finally, he gave a gentle nod and said, “I’m real.”
With slow, hesitant steps, Chibi walked over to him, not breaking eye contact the entire time. He then reached out and placed a trembling paw on the green edge of Razors’s scythe.
“I’ve probably imagined this a million times. When you were first taken… I told myself I wouldn’t give up hope. That I would spend every day trying to free you.”
Razors didn’t respond. He just stared downward, blinking slowly.
“But as the years went by, I lost hope,” Chibi went on, breaking eye contact. “I thought you were gone forever. I…”—his voice broke—“I tried to kill you.”
“I know,” Razors replied, his voice the same monotone as usual. “So did I.”
Something flashed through Chibi’s eyes. “That’s not the same. You weren’t you.”
Razors chuckled. The sound was hollow and utterly joyless. “Does it make any difference? The outcome would have been the same either way.”
The Pikachu shook his head. “That doesn’t… that’s not…”
“What’s done is done,” the mantis said firmly. “Neither of us can take it back. But it didn’t come to that—we’re both still alive.”
Chibi opened his mouth like he was going to protest, but then froze, staring at the other hybrid. Slowly, his wide-eyed, desperate expression faded as he dropped his gaze to the ground and closed his eyes. “We’re both still alive…” he said quietly.
“Alright, this is all very touching, but where are we, and what are we going to do now?” Absol cut in, stepping forward and glancing between the hybrids and me.
“This is my team’s base,” I answered. “As for what you’re going to do, we can ask Stalker in the morning.”
The dark-type tilted her head. “Who?”
“My team leader.” I tapped my room key to the card scanner and the front door to the stadium opened up. I stepped a foot inside so the door wouldn’t shut itself, then turned back toward the experiments. They were still staring at me, perplexed. I made an expectant face and gestured inside.
Flygon glanced around suspiciously. “I’m not going in there.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then sleep outside. I don’t care either way, just make up your mind so I can go to bed.”
I got the feeling from his expression that he was going to be offended either way, and just couldn’t decide which option was more worth getting offended over. Which meant that basic comfort won out—the bug-dragon slowly shuffled in through the entrance, making sure I saw how much he didn’t want to. He was closely followed by Absol, who rolled her eyes at the fuss he was making. Finally, Razors and Chibi stepped in together.
I walked across the lobby and pushed open the double doors that led to the battlefield. “You guys can stay in here. If any kids wake up before me and see you guys, Chibi’s in charge of explaining how you all got here.” The rebels had at least heard of him, unlike the other experiments. Still, the first kid to wander into the battlefield was probably in for a big surprise.
I left them there and made a beeline for the elevator, only vaguely aware of riding it to my floor, stumbling down the hallway, and scanning my card key into my room at last. My shoes thudded against the wall, kicked off the instant I walked through the door. And then, with my last ounce of conscious thought, I let out my Pokémon for the night.
The Charmeleon and Pidgeotto appeared in a flash and took fighting stances, relaxing upon noticing we were back in our room.
“You made it out,” Swift said, his voice almost sounding proud.
“Did you get the experiments? What about Stalker’s mission? Did you fight any more Rockets?” Firestorm demanded, his eyes wide.
“Yes, yes, and… yes,” I answered. And before either of them could say anything else, I collapsed onto the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’d like to thank you for a mission well done.”
Twigs and leaves snapped under our feet as Stalker and I walked along the trail that ran through the forests near Midnight Stadium. It was a bright, cloudless day, and the September air was cool and breezy now that the oppressive summer heat was finally over. It was hard to appreciate the perfect weather, though. The idea of briefing him on what had happened in the base had been eating away at the back of my mind, refusing to let me think of anything else.
“I wouldn’t call it well done with all the trouble I got into,” I said.
“You made it out alive,” he said matter-of-factly. “Not to mention rescuing four experiments and recovering the Mewtwo data.” He held up the flash drive I’d given him to emphasize the point.
I grit my teeth. No sense holding back any longer.
“I ran into an executive… Astrid.”
Recognition flashed through his eyes. “And you escaped. That’s impressive.”
I nodded. “But not before she figured out my identity. She recognized me from the plane incident.”
Stalker paused, considering the information carefully. “I’ll keep an eye on your Rocket account and see whether or not it’s been flagged for suspicion. But just in case, stay away from any Rocket bases for now.” That was going to be a problem.
“But I’m due for grunt work in Cerulean next week,” I protested. And my supervisor was… not exactly the kind of person I wanted to upset.
He gave me a pointed stare. “The last thing you want is to be captured inside a base.”
I couldn’t argue with that. It was frustrating, but I didn’t have any alternative.
I glanced at my watch for about the millionth time that day only to be met with the same blank face. I’d realized at some point that it was probably dead from Raichu’s lightning, though I didn’t seem capable of remembering that fact for more than five minutes.
And then, for whatever reason, it hit me. My watch wasn’t the only sensitive device I’d had on me at the time.
Stalker’s gaze fixed on me. He obviously noticed my expression take a sudden nosedive, because he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“The Mewtwo data’s probably gone. It… might have gotten… exposed to some lightning.” Stupid. Why didn’t I just say that she’d hit me with Thundershock? But then… the memory burned. That feeling of being cornered, unable to do anything, facing down a vastly superior opponent who could do whatever she wanted to me. It was… humiliating.
“I take it that was Astrid’s doing?” Stalker asked, looking vaguely amused by my choice of words.
Right. I’d already told him I’d run into her. He obviously had to realize what had happened.
“Her Raichu is infamous,” he went on, “but you don’t have to worry about the Mewtwo data. That script wasn’t just copying the data to the drive. It was uploading it to an online storage. I actually read some of it last night.”
I gaped at him. “Wait, seriously?” Did he ever sleep?
“It wasn’t my idea—you can thank my friend who wrote it.”
“So if you’ve read it… what did you find out?!” I asked excitedly.
Stalker paused, gazing off into the distance. “Mewtwo is more powerful than we could have ever thought. Much stronger than any of the Legendaries on record.”
My face fell, and the ridiculously overbearing presence of Raikou and Entei flashed through my memory. To think that Mewtwo was even stronger than them…?
“Chibi told me that they figured out the Legendary control,” I said slowly. “They’ll be able to use it in the next Legendary mission. If that’s true, then… I don’t know how we’ll stand a chance at stopping them.”
Stalker gave me a pointed look. “Don’t lose hope. We’ll have to change our tactics for the next mission, but I’m confident we can stop them.” I was glad he had that much confidence in us because I sure didn’t.
“Not to mention, we have some new allies…” he continued, trailing off at the end. We’d just stepped out of the trees into the clearing around Midnight Stadium, and were met with the sight of half the Rebellion still crowded around the experiments like they had been when we left. I couldn’t help chuckling a bit under my breath at how much everyone was admiring them. Most of the experiments didn’t seem to care about the excessive attention, although Flygon was starting to grow agitated.
The crowd of trainers parted as we approached, allowing Stalker to step forward and talk face-to-face with the experiments.
“Up until now, you’ve lived your entire lives for Team Rocket, haven’t you?” Stalker asked.
“They made us, so yeah,” Absol said flatly.
“Well, it’s up to you what you want to do with your lives now. I suspect none of you have ever spent time in the wild, so you’re welcome to stay here with us. But in return, I’d like to make a deal.”
Chibi and Razors stared unflinchingly while Absol and Flygon exchanged skeptical glances.
“You already know that we’re fighting against the Rockets. Will you lend us your strength? We could use the extra help from strong Pokémon.”
“I don’t want to have a trainer,” Flygon said gruffly.
“You won’t have one,” Stalker said, raising his hands disarmingly. “You’d just be free Pokémon who happen to train with us and fight Rockets with us.”
“I was already going to do that,” Chibi said simply.
Absol closed her eyes. “Whatever.”
Flygon glanced around uncertainly, as though looking for some excuse to not have to say anything. Finally, he put on his best disinterested face and said, “I… guess I wouldn’t mind still getting to fight.”
Razors was the only one who hadn’t responded. The mantis just stared at the ground quietly, as though deep in thought. His eyes slid to the Pikachu at his feet, who was watching him expectantly. Then, slowly, he nodded.
“It’s settled then.” Stalker turned to face the rest of us. “Experiments eight, nine, twenty-four, and twenty-five will be joining the Rebellion,” he announced, to a wave of excited chattering from the crowd.
“We’ve escaped from the Rockets,” Absol said with a huff. “We’ll never be tested on again. Those identities are meaningless now.”
Stalker folded his arms. “I see. Do you have preferred names?”
“Razors and I do,” Chibi said. “These two don’t.”
“Never needed them,” Flygon added.
Stalker nodded. “Alright then. I will give you new names.”
The two clones blinked in surprise. They clearly weren’t expecting that, but neither of them protested. Stalker proceeded to pace back and forth in front of them, rubbing his fingers on his chin while they eyed him curiously.
“You’ll be Aros,” he said to the Flygon. He then turned to face the Absol. “And you—you’ll be Stygian.”
Absol—or rather, Stygian—tilted her head a bit, but then just shrugged. Aros paused to consider the name, like he was trying to find something wrong with it, but he wound up nodding in the end.
I couldn’t help feeling really, really proud. Not only had my mission resulted in four experiments being freed, but they were also joining us? This pretty much completely made up for my inaction at the Raikou mission.
“Do you still have their Pokéballs?” Stalker asked me. Right, there was no reason for me to hold onto them if they were going to be free now. I dug through my pockets and retrieved the minimized balls, handing them to him. He gave them a curious look before saying, “I’ll keep them in my office. Having the option to recall them in case of emergencies could be useful.”
And then, for whatever reason, my brain caught up with my hands and realized what I’d done. Without even thinking about it, I’d handed him Razors, Aros, and Stygian’s Pokéballs, but not Chibi’s.
Chibi, who’d stayed with me all through Vermilion. Who’d inspired me to act aboard the S.S. Anne. Who’d protected me just like a member of my team.
“Hey, Chibi… can I ask you something?” I asked, gesturing away from the crowd.
The Pikachu glanced up at me with a puzzled expression, but then followed me as I led him off to the side, close to the trees. I couldn’t help noticing how slow his steps were, and the wince that followed each one.
“Um… are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine, everything just hurts… I’ve got to get used to that again,” he muttered.
I tilted my head. “Still?” He’d been off that Rocket machine for over twelve hours by now. If the effect was lasting this long…
“It’s normal for me,” Chibi said, cutting off that train of negativity and replacing it with another.
“…What do you mean?” I asked warily.
The look on his face plainly said that he didn’t want to explain. Despite this, the hybrid took a deep breath and said, “My Zapdos energy is too strong for this body. The feeling of generating power… it’s always hurt, as long as I can remember.”
He was… always in pain? And that was normal for him? How come I never noticed? Was I just that unobservant, or… was he just that good at hiding it?
“That’s the reason I train so often,” he went on. “Releasing the energy is one of the few things that feels good. Although once I start, my body tries to let it all go at once.”
“Like when you finished the battle at the plane,” I said slowly. He had been able to absorb Pichu’s entire store of electricity and fire it off in a single move.
He nodded distantly. “That felt amazing…”
I stared at him, lost for words. I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that it was a thing. And the kind of thing that nothing could change. I couldn’t help him. No one could.
Chibi glanced up at me and glared when he saw my expression. “I don’t need sympathy. I’m like this because they made me this way. It’s as simple as that. In any case, you’re stalling. You wanted to ask something. So ask it.”
I hadn’t even realized that’s what I was doing, but he was right. I still had absolutely no idea how to word the thing I wanted to ask, and I also had no idea how he was going to react.
Finally, I just took a deep breath. “Last time I saw you, you were kind of stuck with me. I’m not sure how you felt about that, but I just… wanted you to know that I’m glad you’re here. And I know you never really got a choice to stay with me before, but…”
“I could have left at any time,” the hybrid said simply. “I didn’t.”
I fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well… yeah, but…”
“I’ll stay by your side. It’s the least I can do to repay you for what you’ve done.”
Honestly, it didn’t feel like I’d done anything special. Anyone on the Rebellion could have done what I did. But would they have? I guess that’s what it all came down to—the fact that I’d wanted to. Still, I couldn’t deny that I was really, really happy that he was alright with staying with me. I couldn’t even explain why.
By this point, Aros and Stygian had been dragged off to our outdoor battle area while the rebels fought over who got to battle them first. Razors had turned down several battle requests and was now sitting off to the side, quietly watching the others. I couldn’t help noticing Chibi gazing at him with… probably the most content expression I’d ever seen on his face.
“You’re really glad he’s free, huh?” I asked.
For several seconds, the Pikachu didn’t acknowledge that I’d said anything. Finally, in a weary tone, he said, “For the first half of my life… he was all I had.”
I nodded. He didn’t need to say anything else. In spite of whatever had happened in the past, things were better now. And that was true for the Rebellion as well. And for me.
No more fixating on the past. Time to move forward.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two weeks passed and September was suddenly almost over in what felt like no time at all. No news of any upcoming Legendary missions had reached us, and the atmosphere of the Rebellion had become fairly relaxed.
Which was why it was weird that Firestorm still insisted on training like his life depended on it, every day, long after the rest of us had quit. I’d left him alone most of time because I figured he’d get it out of his system and stop on his own eventually, and any attempts to ask him why never seemed to get anywhere. But after two weeks, I was kind of starting to get worried.
It was dusk, and the Charmeleon was training on the edge of the forest. He’d found an old log amongst the trees and had set it up as a target, practicing all of his moves on it. Back by Midnight Stadium, Stalker was giving a demonstration on setup moves with his Charizard and Dragonite. Which made the whole situation even weirder because Firestorm loved watching Stalker’s demonstrations. And, yeah… occasionally he did stop to glance over at it—largely to stare at Charizard, I couldn’t help noticing. But then he immediately went back to what he was doing with a renewed vigor.
I didn’t know whether or not to say anything this time. Would it do any good, or would he just brush me off like last time? Then again, I was his trainer. It was kind of my job to take care of my Pokémon. I couldn’t just ignore that.
“Really, Firestorm, you’ve been at this all afternoon,” I finally said.
The Charmeleon paused, pretending like he’d just noticed me, even though I’d seen him glance in my direction when I’d first walked up.
“Yeah, and you’re my trainer, why am I training without you?” he asked flatly.
“Because I already did my training for the day,” I said, folding my arms. “You just keep insisting on doing double time.”
“Lazy.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, when you battle yourself into exhaustion, see if I care,” I said, turning to leave.
The fire lizard snorted and went back to his training. I didn’t really plan on leaving, of course, but he ignored me after that, so I opted to just sit and watch him for a while.
He took a fighting stance in front of the log and brandished his claws before lunging forward and slashing deeply into its surface, faster than I’d seen him move before. He drew his arms back for a second strike, and his claws suddenly glowed with a metallic sheen right before cleaving deeper gashes into the wood. A third strike, and his claws were cloaked in wispy tendrils of purple smoke.
I hadn’t seen his Shadow Claw look that well-developed before. But I didn’t have much chance to appreciate it before the Charmeleon leaped back from where he stood and breathed out a flurry of embers. The attack lasted a few seconds before he frowned and stopped. The fire lizard closed his eyes in concentration, inhaling deeply. He then spat out a half-dozen small fireballs that burned brightly in midair before going out in a puff of smoke.
He really was getting better. But there was something almost… desperate about his expression and movements throughout all of this. Like he didn’t just want to be doing this, but felt like he had to, for some reason. Maybe I was just reading too much into it, but… it reminded me of something.
The time he’d been desperate to help at the plane incident. The time he’d been completely shut down on the S.S. Anne. And, more recently…
“This is about what happened with Stracion, isn’t it?”
The Charmeleon froze mid-move, losing his balance and faceplanting into the dirt. He picked himself up with a huff, shooting a glare in my direction, but then turned away and sagged his shoulders. He wasn’t denying it.
“Even after all the training here… I didn’t stand a chance. Swift at least got a few hits off, but I…” His voice trailed off.
I exhaled slowly. So I was right. I’d kind of figured as much, but this trend of him being obsessed with being useful in battle was starting to get out of hand. I’d originally chalked it up to the time he’d spent as weak little Charmander, but the past two months of being a Charmeleon hadn’t really helped much.
“You know, you don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re useful to me. I still want you around,” I pointed out.
“Whatever,” the fire lizard muttered, standing up and giving a few half-hearted slashes at the log.
I sighed. This wasn’t the sort of problem that was going to sort itself out. And if he was upset about losing battles, then that wasn’t all on him anyway. They always said that in competitive battling, a Pokémon was only as good as their trainer—and as a trainer, I was failing him. The question was, what was our biggest weakness right now? During the fight with Stracion, he hadn’t been able to land a hit. Part of that was because her Grovyle was so fast, but the other part… was not having any decent fire moves to hit it with anyway.
“Alright then… I’m your trainer, I need to be training you. We need to get you some new moves,” I announced suddenly.
Firestorm whirled around in surprise to stare at me incredulously.
“Don’t give me that look, I’m serious,” I said. “All this time you’ve been stuck with Ember. I think that’s the source of a lot of our problems—the lack of a good fire move. And I know we’ve tried working a bit with Fire Fang, but—”
“I don’t like Fire Fang. It’s too hard to land a hit with it.”
I groaned. If he could just stop complaining for two seconds… “Well alright, then we’ll need to try something different.” What other fire moves were Charmeleon capable of using? I’d know if I had a Pokédex. Technically I could go back to the stadium and look it up, but I wanted to figure this out on my own.
Let’s see… he did know Fire Blast, but… we’d only tried it once since he’d learned it from that TM, and it was still every bit as unpredictable and impossible to control, even now that he was a Charmeleon. I’d been afraid to try it again ever since… at least not without Rudy’s Wartortle standing by. But there were other options…
“Flamethrower is one of the best fire moves,” I said, thinking aloud. “Powerful, easy to aim. Takes a lot of energy though, so it’s not a low-level move.”
Firestorm’s eyes lit up. “I wanna try it.”
I nodded, taking a few steps back. “From what I remember, it’s basically just a long stream of fire. Like Fire Blast, but way thinner, and you don’t have to get it to split into five, so it should be easier to control.”
Firestorm planted both feet firmly on the ground, digging his claws into the dirt and taking a deep breath. He then exhaled a large burst of flame that billowed outward in the air before splitting off into wisps and then vanishing completely. The Charmeleon blinked a bit in surprise, then let out two or three more spurts of fire with similar results. The flame was impressive—it just wasn’t going anywhere.
“It keeps fading before it travels far enough. Try making it hotter,” I suggested.
Firestorm closed his eyes in mild frustration before blasting out an even bigger fireball, but this one travelled even less distance before fizzling into smoke. The Charmeleon stamped his foot against the dirt and tried again, and again, but the more force he put into it, the more it just kind of… scattered all over the place, until finally one attempt didn’t even catch fire in the air, but just sputtered red-hot flares across the ground.
“This is stupid, why can’t I just use Fire Blast?” the fire lizard growled, right before inhaling deeply and—
“Don’t!!” I shouted, lunging forward to grab his arm as the fiery glow rose up from his throat. At the last second, Firestorm snapped his jaws shut, smoke leaking out of the corners of his mouth.
“Just… don’t. We’re not there yet,” I said quietly.
Firestorm stared at me in surprise, blinking several times before staring downward. “Alright, fine…”
I gave a heavy sigh of relief. “Besides, how would we even use Fire Blast indoors? I mean, stadiums are all well and good, but the average Rocket battle isn’t exactly gonna be in a regulation battlefield.”
The Charmeleon folded his arms and gave a slight huff, but he didn’t complain, which was generally code for when he knew I had a point but didn’t want to admit it.
Alright, so his fire breath wasn’t controlled enough for Flamethrower yet… what else could we try? I racked my brain for fire attacks, half-tempted to just drag Firestorm over to Stalker and ask him directly.
But then the idea struck. This whole time, he’d been way quicker to pick up physical moves than long-distance ones. Slash, Metal Claw, Shadow Claw—he was getting good at all of them. But the instructions I’d been giving him in battle didn’t really reflect that. Were we wasting our time trying to figure out how to pull off ranged moves when he already had a solid foundation for close-quarters fighting?
“Can you generate fire around your fist?” I suddenly asked.
Firestorm stared blankly. “How on earth would I do that?”
“Just try focusing your energy into it,” I suggested.
The fire lizard shrugged and held a fist up in front of his face, staring at it. After several seconds, he clenched it tighter, tensing every muscle in his arm. His brow furrowed, his breathing grew heavier, every ounce of concentration pouring into it. I squinted, trying to make out if anything was happening. A spark, a shimmer of heat, anything…
“Yeah, this is stupid,” Firestorm said, letting the arm drop to his side.
I sighed, really wishing he wasn’t so quick to dismiss things. I was definitely onto something with idea of focusing on physical moves—I was sure of it.
Then again… he’d been able to breathe out decent fireballs. They were just fading away too quickly in the air. But if they couldn’t be used as a ranged move, maybe they could work in a different way…
“Try breathing a fireball onto your fist.”
“What?” Firestorm asked, gawking at me like I’d just gone insane.
“I’m serious, try it.”
The Charmeleon held his fist in front of his face and gave it an incredulous look, like this couldn’t possibly work. Still, he went ahead and blew out a small fireball onto it. The flames surrounded his claws, not really doing anything at first. But then he stopped adding fire with his breath and the flames… actually stuck around for a few seconds before going out.
Firestorm’s eyes went wide. “Did you see that?!”
“I did—try striking with it next time!” I said excitedly.
With the most enthusiasm he’d shown all night, the fire lizard breathed a huge fireball onto his fist and immediately concentrated on holding it there. The fireball shrank considerably after the first few seconds, but it was still there, flickering away. Firestorm stared at it excitedly, then remembered that he was supposed to be doing something with it and swung the flaming fist at the log, striking it with a solid punch that sent a wave of flares flying away from the impact. It had worked!
“There we go! That’s the start of a decent Fire Punch!” I exclaimed.
Firestorm stared at the log, like he could hardly believe was he was seeing. But then the shock wore off and a grin started to creep across his face.
I patted him on the back. “Not bad. Now come on—is that enough success for the night? Ready to stop?”
Firestorm glanced up at me with a sort of weary exhilaration. Like he was too excited to stop, but had also just realized how tired he was. “Yeah. Alright.”
I gave him another pat and turned to walk back to the stadium, motioning for him to follow me. The Charmeleon plodded along after me, slowly at first, then jogging to catch up.
“Hey, um… thanks,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Don’t mention it,” I said. But then one more thing occurred to me, and I couldn’t just let it go without saying something. “So I saw you staring at Stalker’s Charizard a bunch. What’s with that?” I teased.
Firestorm’s eyes went wide, and he immediately looked away. “Nothing, she’s just… really strong, and I wanna be strong like that someday,” he mumbled. Sure, that’s all there was to it. I definitely believed that, except that I didn’t.
I nudged him playfully in the ribs but didn’t press the matter any further. The embarrassed look on his face was more than enough for me.
End Chapter 16
Next chapter has ALL THE PLOT.