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9
The first time I saw her, it was a day of heavy sunlight and deep shadows.
She was a quiet thing. No larger than a sapling, she hid behind the folding fabric of my mother’s skirts. At nine years old, I did not know enough of the world to see a Pokémon. I saw a girl, strange and shy, peering out from beneath a cowl of green hair that fell like willow branches.
But it was her eyes that held me. They were red. Not the angry red of fire, nor the dull red of dried clay. They were the deep, crystalline red of a ruby buried in the dark. They watched me with a stillness that belonged to something that was not human.
I extended my index finger. It was a simple offering. A bridge built of curiosity.
She did not retreat. Slowly, with the grace of a drifting leaf, she reached out. Her hands were small. Her skin was cool and softer than spun silk. She wrapped her fingers around mine, and the silence in the room seemed to stretch and deepen. It was a gentle touch, yet there was a weight to it. It was a greeting for life.
"They aren't common," my mother said, her voice breaking the spell. "But a neighbor's Gardevoir laid eggs. The owner told me her nature is excellent. I thought you should get to know her since you want to be a Pokémon Trainer."
Mom had been a Trainer in her youth, in the days before she settled down. When I told her I wanted to walk that same path, she was happy out of her mind. I had never seen a Ralts before that moment. Yet looking at her, bathed in the dust motes dancing in the light, I believed she was the most beautiful thing the world had ever made.
She looked into my eyes. Those red pools seemed practically human, filled with a secret intelligence. She pointed the red horn on her forehead toward my heart. In the quiet of that afternoon, I sensed something bloom in the air between us. It was something akin to a smile.
11
Just as Mom said, Ralts is strong.
Genetics and breeding are beyond me, but I gather that both her parents came from superior stock. The old man who owned her mother died before I could ask him anything. Regardless, Ralts is truly unnerving. It hurt me deeply to confine her in a Poké Ball, so I let her roam freely around the house. In the streets, she is terribly shy. Yet at home, she is vivacious. She floats. She runs. She even cleans. I hate to dwell on it, but Mom says it is simply the nature of these Pokémon to be servile. I try not to think about it too much. Sometimes, I view her more as a person than a Pokémon.
Ralts is incredible. Sometimes, in a split second, I spot the Pokémon I want to capture. She simply dashes its skull against a wall, a tree, or the pavement. She breaks them efficiently. All of them. The poor Zigzagoon collapses, its head bleeding. There is something disturbing about her fighting style, yet I suppose it is better than burning them or clawing them into unconsciousness. I throw the Poké Ball, and it is done. The sixth one this week.
Ralts looks at me with a semblance of a smile. She seems to ask if I am proud. In a way, I am. In another, I am terrified to the bone. But it doesn't matter. Ralts is strong, and that is all I need to know.
12
Ralts refuses to fight in Gyms. She simply sits there, waiting to be incapacitated. Worse, she does nothing at all, as if waiting for me to recall her. The first time, I could not contain my frustration. I left her locked up all day until nightfall. For the first time, I screamed at her. I told her she had to fight, repeating all the harsh things competitive trainers usually say. She hid behind my bed as if she didn't understand a word. She only understood that I was angry.
The next day, I forced her to fight a Charmeleon. In barely a minute, he was on the floor. He was confused, slamming his head against the ground. It took time, but there he was, broken on the pavement with nothing left to do. I threw the Poké Ball. For a second I was nervous, but he was captured completely. I returned home with Ralts and left her with Mom to help with the chores. On the way back, I tried to analyze why she wouldn't fight. The only thing that echoed in my head was a singular thought. "Don't want to leave."
I had heard that some Gardevoir could communicate telepathically with their owners, but nothing like that had ever happened to me. Our relationship had been decent enough. Besides, she was still barely a Ralts.
I spent the following days dueling anyone I crossed paths with. Charmeleon was much better. He was obedient and fierce. Perhaps he was not a psychic prodigy, but his obedience was enough. I went to the Gym, and I returned with a badge.
Mom clapped as I showed her, pulling me into a hug. Ralts just sat at the table, watching seriously. Again, she seemed like a person, but I didn't care anymore. As far as I was concerned, Ralts was Mom's Pokémon.
That night, I heard the creak of the door. The handle turned.
"Mom?" I asked.
I saw only Ralts standing in the dark. She entered, took what I knew was her Poké Ball from my drawer, and pointed at it. In my mind, I heard a chant, clear as day. "Fight. Fight. Fight."
"Y-You can talk? That is incredible," I said, completely thrilled. I ran to her, hugged her, and lifted her in my arms. For a second, I saw that hint of a smile again. She slept by my side that night. I didn't care. Back then, it only meant I had a playmate and a travel partner.
The next morning, I told Mom I was taking Ralts and that I would collect every badge possible. I told her I could speak with Ralts telepathically. She looked happy, but a shadow of confusion crossed her face. I didn't pay it much attention. In the celebration, Ralts seemed to catch our joy.
Mom gave me her blessing, a huge backpack, and some money.
14
Ralts evolved into Kirlia quickly. I got stuck in Lumiose City, not because we couldn't win, but because I was amassing a fortune with so many duels. Yes, Ralts was stronger than normal. Kirlia was unstoppable. Whether in double battles or singles, with Charizard or without him, she won them all. Sometimes she managed to make Charizard dodge attacks he couldn't possibly have foreseen.
Almost as if she could see the future.
When I asked around, I was told this was relatively common in Kirlias, so I stopped worrying. I suppose I knew enough about Psychic types. She could lift and pull objects with her mind. It was useful for moving, but the force was colossal. It was as if she could halt a locomotive if she desired. Sometimes it scared me, but I let it slide.
14 ½.
I met Rosa on one of the routes. I have been having a good time these days. I am learning so much about Pokémon and meeting many people. We are an incredible duo. With her Serperior and my Charizard, there are few things we cannot defeat. She is also benefiting from Kirlia, but not as much as before. I only use her in emergencies or against especially tough opponents.
Now we sleep in the same room to save money. I figure if I spend all day dueling, eventually I will have enough cash and experience to face anything. I used to dream of the day my Kirlia would become a beautiful Gardevoir and bring the world to its knees with a single psychic ray. I had big dreams back then.
Lately, we have been exhausted, so we left our team at a Pokémon Center to rest and undergo check-ups. Kirlia didn't want to let go of me. At one point, she pulled me toward her with psychic force, startling the doctor. Finally, I grabbed her by the shoulders and promised I would return.
With a sad face and distress in her red eyes, I left her there.
I spent the entire afternoon with Rosa at the amusement park. We rode the Ferris wheel, watching the purple skies and the eternal sunset. It was a precious moment. Rosa stood up, and for a second, I feared she would fall. We took photos in the booth. There were too many, so we kept just one large one with filters. We were teenagers with money to burn.
We went to the Pokémon Center to pick up our team. I released Kirlia from her Poké Ball immediately.
"Isn't it easier to carry her inside?" Rosa asked.
"I don't like keeping her locked up. I've had her since I was eight. She is practically family," I replied.
"Huh. She is cute," Rosa said, reaching to pinch her cheek.
Kirlia immediately hurled her into the bushes with telekinesis. I had to extract Rosa and scold Kirlia briefly, though not too harshly. I feared that might become my own fate.
As punishment, I made her carry our gear. With her powers, it wasn't a burden. It was arguably more efficient. Without a doubt, I am terrible at discipline. We arrived at our room, and within minutes, Rosa was snoring. It had been a wonderful day. I took out the large photo. Suddenly, it snapped in half with a sharp crack.
I sighed. I had ruined it.
I put the things away. Kirlia knelt on her legs, watching.
I wished these moments would never end. Just duels and afternoons of fun. Wasn't that something like a date? I was happy. Within minutes, I was sleeping peacefully.
The metallic stench of blood flooded my nostrils before I even opened my eyes. It was thick and cloying, coating the back of my throat like rust.
I was standing in the dark. The air was humid and suffocatingly hot, sticking to my skin like a layer of grease. Above, there were no stars, no clouds. There was only a massive red moon, hanging low and heavy, acting like a spotlight that bathed the world in the color of a fresh bruise.
I was lost. For hours, or maybe days, I walked. The ground beneath my feet was soft and wet, dragging at my shoes with every step. I looked down and saw it wasn't mud. It was meat, pulverized, sodden earth that squelched like raw hamburger. I walked in circles, trapped in the crimson gloom.
The only sound was the weeping.
It came from everywhere and nowhere, a woman crying in jagged, heaving sobs. I followed the noise, desperate for any sign of life in this slaughterhouse world.
Then I saw her.
She knelt in the center of a shallow pool of black liquid that reflected the red moon. She was stark white, blindingly bright against the darkness. She wore a long, flowing dress that seemed to defy the filth around her, remaining pristine. She looked like a statue carved from bone.
She wore a mask. It was a smooth, white porcelain oval, tied tight against her face. Painted on the surface in stark black ink were two wide, happy eyes and a simple, curved smile. The painted face beamed with joy, but the woman’s body shook with violent, racking grief.
I ran to her. I wanted to be near that light. I wanted to wash the smell of rust from my nose.
"Do you know how to get out of here?" I asked. My voice sounded small and dead in the heavy air.
She stopped crying instantly. Her shoulders froze.
Slowly, she turned her head. The painted black eyes of the mask stared at me. The painted smile mocked me. She raised her hands, pale, slender, delicate hands and gripped the edges of the porcelain face.
She dug her fingernails in.
"Help me," I whispered.
She pulled. There was no click of a latch, no loosening of a string. There was a wet, tearing sound. The sound of skin separating from muscle.
The porcelain didn't come off. It peeled away.
Behind the white shell, there was no face. There was only raw, wet anatomy. Exposed red muscle fibers twitched in the cool air. Yellow fat glistened around the jaw. Her eyes were lidless, bulging spheres that swiveled frantically in bloody sockets before locking onto mine. Where the mouth should have been, there were no lips, only a grid of bared teeth and gums glistening with saliva.
The raw, flayed thing shrieked, a soundless vibration that rattled my teeth.
I woke up screaming, my lungs burning as if I had drowned.
Kirlia was sleeping right next to me, on top of the sheets. The moonlight hit her face, making her skin look as pale and smooth as porcelain. She wore that expression I always thought was a smile.
But she wasn't asleep.
Her red eyes were wide open, staring directly at me in the dark. They glowed like dying embers. She didn't blink. Slowly, she opened her mouth as if to say something to me. Her lips moved, forming a word I couldn't hear, but no sound came out.
I squeezed my eyes shut and fell back into the dark, back to the sea of nightmares, blood and the screams I couldn't locate.
Rosa woke up, yawned, and looked at me strangely, as if sleeping with a Pokémon was an aberration.
"You sleep with your Kirlia?" she asked.
"Sometimes. When she wants to."
"You could keep her in her Ball. Although I suppose it's fine. Gardevoir are great companions," she said.
Kirlia’s eyes snapped open.
"She isn't a Gardevoir yet. I hope she evolves soon," I replied.
"If we keep fighting like this, she will be in no time," Rosa said, yawning behind her hand.
"I think I've gotten used to this form, but I suppose she'll get stronger." I lifted Kirlia with some effort. 44 pounds is heavier than it looks.
"Yes, you'll see. She will be enchanting. Did you know about the black holes?" Rosa asked with a mocking smile.
"Black holes?"
"When Gardevoir feel danger threatening their trainer, they can create black holes. They have the psychic power to alter dimensions and create a singularity. They try to protect their Trainer even at the cost of their own life," Rosa said, standing up and stroking Kirlia's head.
"At the cost of her own life?"
"Yes, it is a last resort. They use it if they see a deadly attack coming. They block it with the black hole and then collapse. They fall into a coma or die from exhaustion. Although yours is strong. Surely she can endure a little more than that, right?" Rosa touched Kirlia's head again.
I saw something in Kirlia's eyes. A mixture of indignation, disgust, something I couldn't explain.
"I think she doesn't like you," I said, grabbing the Poké Ball. I recalled Kirlia before she could strike Rosa.
"She is just too attached to you," Rosa sighed. "I wonder what will happen when she develops the heart crystal."
"What is that?"
"It's an external sensory organ. They use it to capture signals from your brain. A Gardevoir feels your joy or fear as if it were her own. If you cut your finger, she feels the 'echo' of that pain. Sometimes they can calm you down if you're scared. It is not uncommon," Rosa explained, crossing her arms.
"Sounds like she can read my mind."
"Yes, that is how Psychics are. But since you are her trainer, surely nothing will happen. Besides, she will help save you from danger. Gardevoir are like that. They put their trainer's safety above their own. It's somewhat pathetic, honestly."
"Ah, right. I also heard they can see the future," Rosa added while we brushed our teeth. She spat out the paste.
"She can read minds and see the future?" I asked, surprised.
"It is called Future Sight. It reaches maximum power when it concerns the trainer. Unlike Xatu, they use it at will, usually for protection. They see lines of danger," she said, putting away her brush.
"That sounds great," I grinned.
"To me, it seems pathetic and sad. Imagine a Pokémon existing solely to sacrifice itself for you. It's cute, but if a creature comes from the factory only wanting to die for you... I don't know. It's dumb. I would respect a Pokémon more if it preferred its own life," Rosa said.
"Well, I don't see it that way," I replied.
15
Half a year together. Today Rosa is leaving. We have practiced enough, and honestly, our paths are diverging. As if the world wanted to alleviate my pain, today I received the greatest gift.
Kirlia finally evolved into Gardevoir.
We defeated an Arbok and a Togetic. The light emanated like a miniature white sun. In a second, her delicate form was sketched in the air. An angel emerging into reality. Crimson eyes filled with desire observed me. Finally, she was practically human, at least to me. She had the delicate figure of a woman, and her previously clumsy hands were now elegant, human fingers.
What surprised me most was the crystal in her chest. Everything Rosa said was true. I felt completely transparent under her gaze, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. She smiled when my mind could only form the word "beautiful." She looked so human in that moment.
I took her hand. Her fingers were as delicate as any person's. She looked so elegant in that dress-like form that I began to question things about myself. I touched her heart crystal with my thumb and index finger. For a second, a sense of taboo bloomed within me, as if I heard a moan echoing from everywhere at once. I felt dizzy. I felt confused. It was warm to the touch and pulsed like a real heart.
"I don't recommend touching that," Rosa said, walking up with a smile. She was happy to finally see a Gardevoir face-to-face.
"Why?"
"It is a sensory organ, and it is... sensitive. I suppose you shouldn't touch it? Besides, she can fire Hyper Beams from there. Better keep your hands off," Rosa laughed.
"Right," I replied, pulling my hand away quickly.
All the way to the hotel, Gardevoir acted as if she wasn't there. Silent. She looked elegant, but she seemed preoccupied with distant thoughts. I didn't say anything. Could she talk to me now? I didn't even ask.
"Are your bags ready?" I asked Rosa.
"Yes, yes, I'm leaving today," she said, sounding annoyed.
"So much time has passed," I sighed.
"Yes, but I think I have the experience to do what I want. First I must return home to Mom and Grandma. Grandma is quite sick. I don't want it to be the last time I see her," Rosa said, placing a finger on her lips. She went down to the lobby to check out and returned to say goodbye.
"Well, you still have my number. I think we could cross paths again in Ho—"
A void spiral erupted from Rosa's chest. I felt reality itself fracturing around me, accompanied by the roar of an immense beast. Dimensions collided. There was no blood. There were no traces. Even her luggage vanished from existence.
Before I could scream.
I felt a heartbeat, immense, resonating in my skull.
I was calm. So calm. I felt small puffs of pleasure with every breath. Gardevoir wrapped me in her arms from behind. I could feel the beating of her "heart," closer and stronger every second. I had the Poké Ball in my pocket. Even in my altered state, I knew I should return her to it. I knew I should take her to the authorities.
"It's okay. Don't be afraid." The delicate voice was everywhere and nowhere at once.
In a second, I lost consciousness.
I am with Rosa exploring a cave. A Zubat bites my leg. It is venomous. I cannot walk. The cave collapses. Rocks crush me and Rosa. I am dead.
In Hoenn, I try to capture a Nidoking. His horn pierces my thorax. Toxins flood my veins. He tramples me.
I am with Rosa. She encourages me to battle an Exploud. A grave error. His voice ruptures my eardrums. I trip and fall over a waterfall.
I wake up again. Rosa's tent is open. A Typhlosion moves through the forest. Rosa is gone. I go to look for her. An immense flamethrower incinerates me.
Again and again. Gardevoir showed me a myriad of possibilities in the web of destiny. All horrible deaths. All implying that Rosa inevitably led me to a certain doom, even unintentionally. Then I understood. Gardevoir considered it necessary to protect me with a black hole from imminent danger.
Tears filled my eyes, hot and spilling over, as I woke from the trance. The terror of the dying visions faded, replaced by a profound, echoing silence.
There was Gardevoir.
She knelt before me, bathed in the silver light of the moon that spilled through the hotel window. It turned her white skin to alabaster and the green of her hair to deep, shadowed velvet. She was beautiful. It was a beauty that hurt to look at, sharp and absolute. Her red eyes bore into mine, no longer hidden, no longer shy. They bewitched me. They held me suspended in a moment that felt stretched thin, like a wire pulled to the breaking point.
She reached out. Her fingers were long and slender, cooler than the air around us. She took my hands in hers. Her touch was not merely physical. As her skin brushed mine, I felt a wave of sensation crash over me. It was invisible and heavy, like sinking into a bath of warm honey. It filled my nose, my mouth, my lungs. It silenced the screaming part of my mind that remembered Rosa. It smoothed over the jagged edges of my fear until only a calm, flat surface remained.
She smiled. It was a small, secret thing.
Out of nowhere, a presence bloomed in my mind. It was an immensity of emotion, a tidal wave of unconditional love that was too vast for a single human heart to contain. It was suffocating. It was perfect and demanded everything.
We looked at each other in the quiet dark. Then, with a movement as fluid and inevitable as the turning of the tide, she leaned forward.
She pressed her face to mine. It was a clumsy, devastating imitation of humanity. She was a creature of myths and forests trying to speak the language of men without words. Her lips found mine. They were soft, impossibly soft, but they did not move like human lips. They were still. They were a seal.
Then I felt it. Her tongue pushed past my lips. It was warm, strange, and intrusive, sliding into my mouth with a shocking intimacy. It tasted of ozone and sweet nectar. It was alien, yet my mind, drowning in the golden syrup of her psychic projection, told me it was the only thing I had ever wanted.
At that proximity, the red crystal in her chest pressed directly against my sternum.
I gasped into her mouth as the sensation hit me. I could feel every single beat of her heart, not against my skin, but inside my own ribcage. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It was a drumbeat of pure love. It synchronized with my own, forcing my heart to fall into her rhythm. It was a hypnotic, overwhelming percussion that rattled and vibrated through my bones.
The boundaries of my body seemed to dissolve. Where I ended and she began became a meaningless distinction. I was transparent. I was open. I was hers.
Now I understand. The thought bloomed like a white flower in the dark soil of my brain. I have always loved Gardevoir. She is all I need in this life and i only need her to protect me. I only need her to guide me.
And I will be happy for eternity.
30
I have completely abandoned my dreams of being a Pokémon Trainer. My wife thinks it is dangerous, that I should never try it again. With her help, I have invested in real estate and lucrative franchises. She is very intelligent, and I always follow her orders.
Mom asks when I am going to get married. I tell her never. But she is my wife. Under the light of the moon, we were baptized by Arceus, and she is all I need. I sign papers in my office, recalling fragments of my adolescence, the eternal days spent in duels.
However, all I remember is how good a time I had with Gardevoir, the moments we spent together on the Ferris wheel, and how she has always saved me. I hear soft steps outside my door.
Finally, my wife opens it.
Gardevoir holds an egg in her hands.
"Finally, dear, it is here."
Gardevoir smiles once more, and her red eyes enthrall me. She doesn't need to speak. Her voice is the only thing resonating in my mind.