Dramatic Melody's Nominations

“Girl, honey, sugar pie, sweetie,” blares Totodile, her commanding voice barreling over Cyndaquil’s and completely drowning him out, “if you can beat the most powerful trainers around just by yourself, then Johto’s really as weak as that Kalosian trainer said it is. And I’m gonna do the same without breaking a sweat or evolving!”

Chikorita extends two of his vines.

“What’d you say?! You mocking me, Totodile?! Pokémon battle, right now! You and me!”

“And risk bruising my beautiful face for my new trainer, baby? Never! Plus, wouldn’t it look bad for you if the trainers come in and you’re still hiding in the corner, licking the bruises I would hand you to?”

Cyndaquil tries to step in to mediate.

“Now now, let’s not fight…”

“I think SOMEONE’S itching for a bruising, and it ain’t me!” bellows Chikorita.

“Girl, you better check yourself before you wreck yourself!” counters Totodile, wagging a claw in front of Chikorita.

It’s been a long time since I’ve battled like this. You say it’s been a couple of years since I’ve vanished. It feels like longer. But battling still feels good. My pokémon are certainly happy to be getting some fighting in.

I notice a look in your eyes, though. It’s curious. You seem a little weary yourself. I find myself speaking for the first time in a very, very long time. My voice is rusty, though, and seems to have lowered slightly in pitch. About time puberty hit.

We talk about your Professor, Elm, and how, although a little absent-minded at times, he really seemed to care about your progress, even going as far as to give you his number and call you from time to time. I express how I would’ve loved it if Professor Oak had done that.

At mentioning his name, however, you grow silent. It’s hard to make out through the snow, but there’s a sense of sadness growing on your face.

“Did you know that there’s a requirement for Trainers to be allowed to climb Mt. Silver?” you ask.

I wasn’t aware at all.

“Apparently, it’s a new thing. You have to beat all 16 Gyms on the Tohjo continent.” He pauses. “So that means, uh…well…I met your rival, Blue.”

I’m a little confused.

“He’s a Gym Leader now. Doesn’t really specialize in a type, but he has a rhydon, so it’s not as if he’s not following in the previous Viridian Leader’s footsteps.” He looks down at his feet. “I mentioned you to him. After I beat him. Said I was inspired to start my journey in the first place because of everything you did.” You chuckle. “He asked me, ‘Did ‘ya know I beat him to the punch?’ I didn’t, and he seemed sad when I told him so.” You look up at me. “Professor Oak didn’t talk about you at all, though, not even when I mentioned your name. Why is that?”

I feel a sad smile creep onto my face. It’s funny, really. After all this time, and even after hearing someone actually praise me for the efforts of my journey, the same thought forms in my head that’s been there for so long. When you hear it, I can almost see your heart break a little. But I can’t help what I think. I know, in my heart, that it’s true.

“I’m not worth it.”

Ponyta stared at his hand, and didn’t move a muscle. Other than his shaking fingers, he didn’t move a muscle either, not at first. But slowly he did move—no more than an inch at a time.

Then he felt the heat. Ponyta’s mane was true fire, and he felt it. It hurt, and he pulled back the last inch he’d just taken. The heat didn’t reach there. ‘The Indians say that monsters control their fires better than we control ours. That makes me think they’ve never met that devil-dog of Cottonwood’s back east, but maybe they know something about the prairie monsters.’

Hal swallowed, and moved his hand closer by that one inch again. The heat was still there, and it still hurt. He held his hand in place for ten seconds before he had to wince and mutter, “…ow!” But Ponyta kept staring and didn’t move—not forward but not away either. Hal didn’t know if he would be punished for showing weakness or…

The heat subsided. It was still warm, but it was no longer unbearably hot around his fingers, even though nothing had moved. Before Hal was certain about what this meant, he moved in another inch and a sliver until it was hot again. There were few more seconds of pain, then as before the air cooled down until it was tolerable. So Hal moved in closer. He inched toward the mane in this way as slowly as the hands on a grandfather clock. Then at last there was a sharper pain as the tip of his index finger brushed against a strand of fire. But that pain and that heat faded as well. When it did, he stuck in his entire hand.

He was not burned.

It felt the way his hands did when they were under a blanket and close to a fireplace. The mane looked like all one fire, but now Hal thought he felt the single hairs. When he tried to close some between his fingers they escaped, but when he held still and open, they brushed against him in waves like tall prairie grass in the hot sun. He could put that exact sensation into words in his head even before he realized how wide his smile had grown.

Ponyta moved closer and sniffed his coat. Hal was more than glad now that Rachel had made that burnberry-smell sink into their clothes yesterday. Her nose tickled him and he laughed a little. He patted her head and she let him.

"I… lost someone. Really close to me. You might have heard about it on the news, it was… it was the girl who ran this building before."

"Mmmmm… can't say I really keep up with the news." Zinnia shrugs again. "But still, sucks that someone died. It'd suck even more if someone else did, y'know?"

“We're always looking for something else, a pokémon that will best complement the strengths and weaknesses of our existing team. And yet some of the best trainers in the world have made a career out of limiting themselves.”