Chapter Two: Breakable Resolves

A boy startled awake as the volume of the television suddenly increased. It was then that he realized that he fell asleep on the kitchen table, beside an untouched bowl of cereal. Dark circles hung below his vibrant purple eyes as he observed his surroundings with a hint of lethargy. As usual, his apartment was disorganized; neglected papers stuck out from between the couch and were scattered across the floor. He yawned as he straightened his posture, but an abrupt cough halted his rather slow pace.

"You need to stop staying up so late," someone remarked from behind him. "Your body doesn't deserve such negligence." The person then sighed. "Not to mention this place needs to be cleaned soon."

"I promise that in less than a year, I'll no longer be a burden to you," the boy declared as he stretched his arms.

As he yawned again, the person who spoke walked towards him. Despite being the older of the two, her petite face gave the impression that she was barely a teenager. Her red curls bounced heartily, contrasting the scowl that darkened her crystal eyes. She suddenly slammed the table and deepened her furious expression.

"Don't you dare treat this so casually, Antro!" the woman accused him. "You know very well–"

"That until I get a stable job, I can't get the fosters out of my hair," Antro recited as he placed a fist to rest his cheek on. "I think by now that I get the point, Mare." He then closed his eyes as he yawned. "Tell me something that I don't know."

The boy simply refused to call the fosters his parents. He didn't even have the heart to add "adoptive" to their title as he felt no kinship towards them. The only positive result of the adoption was having his foster sister, Mare, by his side; however, she didn't have to worry about the fosters as she provided them money monthly. We gave you everything you needed, his foster mother once complained. Now we're the ones needed to be taken care of. He was indignant that they only saw him as an investment, not something remotely as wonderful as a son.

"You have that look again," Mare whispered as she observed his forlorn expression. "Don't even bother with them right now, okay?"

"Why can't I get a job right now?" Antro complained as his irritation took ahold of him. "I should be taking advantage that Xionite has no legal age for anything. I can work at any shop, become a freelancer, do odd jobs–"

"I already told you why," Mare reminded him as she tugged her cherry hair. "Vocations take advantage of the youth and the lack of any official labor unions for them. Freelancers are poor trainers who barely have enough to feed themselves and their Pokémon. Shops, retail markets, and other companies love to pay at the minimum wage. Should I even start at the advanced death rate of performing odd jobs?"

Antro clamped his mouth shut as he observed his adoptive sister. For a second, his purple eyes observed her blue ones. He then recognized that he hated moving away from all he knew because of the fosters. Alicante City – as grand as the people bragged it to be – was an everlasting fall for those born outside of the supposed capital of Xionite.

"I can't stand to see you there, reluctant to carry on," Mare confessed after a while as she struggled to stay composed. "I want to help you in every way possible, Antro. If you can just graduate from school and have a stable career, you can even get out of Xionite."

"What if I'm tired of running?" the boy asked as he slumped in the chair. "Mare, what if for once, we can fight against the fosters? You and me together, we can–"

"You know very well what protects them," his adoptive sister stated as she slouched against the wall. "We can't do anything to them – not now or ever."

"This is the Distortion World!" Antro exclaimed as he suddenly jumped up from his seat. "Xionite needs change. For one, it starts with the law! Even Kanto has more reasonable rules, and that's a stretch to say considering the terrorism. Hoenn has proven that change can happen, especially after the Devon Scandal. Every other region but ours has changed for the better of democracy–"

"This isn't history class," Mare chastised, but even she could not fight off the urge to curl her lips upwards. "Speaking of class, shouldn't you be ready for school by now? And what about the presentation you have today?"

At that, Antro groaned. "You might've paid me to go to a decent institution–"

"The very best one," his adoptive sister muttered.

"It doesn't mean those kids actually know what anything means," he countered, followed by a slight shake of his head. "They don't care about what makes things the way they are. It actually won't matter, as most of them are already planning their retirement!" The boy then waved his arms in protest. "I see no reason to waste my time explaining anything to them."

"What if all they need is for someone to enlighten them?" Mare pointed out to him. "If you won't do it for them or me, do it for your ego."

"What ego?!" Antro fumed as red spots danced on his cheeks. "I have no such thing." He then diverted his gaze to the floor. "I only know when I'm right."

"Okay then!" his adoptive sister chirped as she hummed to herself. "Too bad you can't come home and brag about their dumbfounded faces!"

Antro glanced at her and scowled as his purple eyes glinted. Silence engulfed the room as the two siblings stared into each other without flinching. After what seemed like an eternity, Mare blinked. Before he could proclaim victory, she walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. The boy groaned at first, but accepted the embrace from his adoptive sister. When they broke off, she playfully whacked his head.

"You need to change into your uniform," she lectured him as she wagged her finger. "Professionalism is one of the basic things you need to learn–"

"I get it!" Antro interrupted her as he marched out of the kitchen and into his room.

"You could make friends if you decide to joke around more than argue," Mare advised with a cheeky grin on her face. "Perhaps you wouldn't act so much like an old man!"

"I have what I need!" Antro shouted as he slammed the door to his bedroom shut. "I don't need one of those ignorant causes to be a companion!"

"I bet you my Ion chips that you'll make a friend today," Mare dared him as she smirked, even though he couldn't see her.

After a few minutes, Antro appeared in the hallway, dressed in a very professional white collared shirt with sleeves, a red tie, black pants, and a cardigan slung across his shoulders. When he saw his sister, a cocky grin erupted from his lips; simultaneously, his eyes twinkled.

"I promise that when you do lose your Ion chips," Antro swore as his expression became more determined, "I'll get you a consolation prize at the Game Corner. Maybe a Clefairy doll, if I'm nice enough."

"We'll see about that," Mare proclaimed with a grin of her own as she opened the door to leave. "Now hurry up! I need to go to work once I drop you off!"

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

The pleasure from the morning with Mare had long evaporated upon entering the Alicante Learning of Pokémon & Humanities Academy – or as most parents and students would refer to it as ALPHA. As expected, everything ended up quite uneventful. The bet is as good as mine, he pondered as he maneuvered throughout the pristine golden-like halls. Antro knew he should've felt proud that he was right, but what idiot would take pride on being a loner? As much as he wanted to blame the students, he indicted Alicante City as the reason for his solitude. Ever since he moved in the city two months ago, he was greeted with the scornful looks by the residents. Perhaps it's all those murders on the headlines that has the whole city on edge, he thought. You'd think they'd target just the foreigners.

His lavender hair slightly ruffled as a group of students nearly trampled him over. Antro observed that particular group, their laughter intoxicating him for a moment. He watched them with such interest that he barely avoided a collision with other passing students. After recovering from that distraction, he managed to focus and tried to recall where exactly his class was located. Despite being swallowed alive by the crowds, he arrived on time. However, he barely entered the classroom when a gong shrilled throughout the institution.

"You were close to being marked," the teacher commented in front of the classroom. "Please do join us today, Mr. Ron."

Nearly all of the twenty-five students turned their heads around to face him. Antro remained composed as he marched over to his assigned seat – one that was purposefully isolated from the rest of the class. He found it quite ironic that he was the minority, given that he was a native Xionitese. Odd to probably his other classes, his history class accounted for most of the foreigners in ALPHA. Not counting himself, there were at least four other Xionitese students with him; however, unlike him, they had somehow fallen into the good graces of the foreigners.

"Now that everyone is here," the teacher addressed to everyone while purposefully eying Antro, "let's begin today's round of presentation. Now..."

She pretended to grab a clipboard and read the names on the list while her dark eyes glistened with certainty – or at least that's how Antro interpreted it. He attempted to avoid the attention of the teachers, but instructors like Ms. LeFau automatically had him in mind for being the new student in ALPHA. The boy was therefore ready when she signalled him out.

"Since you came so eagerly to class," Ms. LeFau began with a faint smile, "Mr. Ron, please present your project over the assignment given to you."

Antro got up from his seat and retrieved a green thumb drive from the pocket of his pants. All of his proud work was contained in there, ready to hand him a passing grade. His confidence was suddenly taken away from him as he felt an unknown sensation within him. He nearly didn't make it to the front of the classroom as the the dizziness overwhelmed him. The next second, however, he felt his senses sharpen. Despite being aware of what he saw, he knew that he lost control over his body. He functioned as a robot as he connected the thumb drive to the laptop and then hooked it up to the projector withouta word. His mouth then moved to speak as he controlled the slideshow, but for a reason beyond him, he couldn't understand what he was saying. No one else noticed the alarm in his purple eyes as they silently watched him do this against his will. When he was apparently done, the teacher frowned.

"I must admit, Mr. Ron," Ms. LeFau began while shaking her head, "I did not expect you to present something as informative as you did today. You did beyond analyzing the structure of the Xionitese government." Her eyes shined as she glanced over at the other students. "If anyone in this class can successfully challenge Mr. Ron's thesis, I will revoke your previous grade in my class and pass you this semester."

The alarm in Antro's eyes intensified as the unknown sensation left him, giving him control of his body once again. He slowly curled his hands into a fist before he registered his instructor's words. Challenge... me? He was oblivious as to why she wanted to open the floor for the foreigners to torment him, but they were as equally stunned as him. He decided to not worry on what had just happened to him; rather, he was more concerned on what was to befall. The teenage boy observed his teacher, but she had diverted her eyes to her clipboard. What is the meaning of this? Before the boy could contemplate more on the matters, a Kalos boys stood up.

"I'll gladly do this," the boy sneered as his green eyes held contempt. "I'll earn my keep in Xionite, unlike some grapes up there."

Most of the class sniggered at the joke, which only outraged Antro even further. His jaw clenched yet again, but the boy scrutinized his challenger to keep calm. Ms. LeFau smirked for a millisecond before she nodded to the Kalos boy.

"Do you have something against us foreigners?" the boy interrogated with a thick accent. "We deserve the right to participate in the election process. You can't discard us just because we aren't from the same region!"

What exactly did I say? Antro questioned himself as he gazed at the indignant faces of his peers. He maintained his poker face as he scrambled for answers.

"I was not suggesting that Xionite should treat other people as second-class citizens," the teenager began with a firm voice. "Rather, I was stating that foreigners such as yourselves are unfamiliar with the style of battling here in Xionite." He then made eye contact with all of his classmates. "Your parents have surely taught you the different ways of battling from your native nations, which is terrific of them. However, if you ever hope to come close as the Magistrate's secretary, you will have to adopt the methods on how this region battles."

"That's bullshit," a Kanto boy protested as he jumped from his seat. "Pokémon battles are only about the Pokémon. There's no reason why we should fight as well!"

"Gyms all around have battles meant for the Pokémon!" a Hoenn girl shouted at him. "A better test of will should be one of the mind, not a battle showing savagery."

Antro glanced at the teacher for help, but he caught Ms. LeFau wearing a pleased look. She wanted this to happen, he concluded with slight surprise. What benefit could this even bring? He then witnessed the storm that he created; everywhere, students roared and pointed accusatory fingers at him. Their words went deaf upon his ears, but he was well aware that he was alone in this battle of insults. Suddenly, he urged the floors beneath him to swallow him.

"Enough!" an impatient voice shouted as a desk was slammed. "For Arceus' sake, calm down!"

Everyone – even Antro – turned their heads around to track the intruder of the chaos. They stared at a white-haired girl with fiery amber eyes. The teenage boy was stumped as he realized she had quelled the clamor. She only did it as she's a native Xionitese, he reasoned with himself as he noted her slanted eyebrows. It wasn't to actually defend me. He was tempted to yell at her and declare that he had the situation under control; however, he was secretly grateful for the tense silence she created.

"Now then," she declared as she turned to face Antro. "Let's do this properly: what is the point of us trainers mastering the art of Pokémon battling? Isn't being a Magistrate all about governing the people, contrary to the life of a trainer?"

Everyone in the classroom muttered in agreement towards the question she asked. Antro blinked twice, attempting to decipher the intentions of the girl in front of him. Her eyes hold no malice, he observed as he stared at her. But why did she do this? For the grade? The question she asked made no sense to him, as he assumed she already knew the answer.

"This is similar to the methods of the other regions," Antro began after a second of hesitation. "Pokémon battling has been typically used to determine who rules the people. They fight against the strongest in a tournament, and the victor is pronounced as a ruler. Before the flux of immigration, Xionite was composed of a similar infrastructure;  after it happened, Xionite decided to give way to the creation of city-states, where each city was to elect a Magistrate through Pokémon battles." He paused, expecting an uproar of some sorts; their silence, however, encouraged him to continue. "At first, the government fluctuated as such. But then, the leaders noticed the headlines from other regions regarding their issues. Terrorism, political scandals, tyranny, and colonization were seen everywhere. Deaths toiled by the day, and eventually refugees of these events found their way to Xionite.

"To prevent from such issues from blooming here, we consulted with the tribal members of the region. It was they who suggested that we implemented the ancient way of battling, one where Pokémon and trainer fight side-by-side. The leaders accepted this; after all, they gave up their homes so most of you could have a second chance to live." His tone grew somewhat higher, but he calmed himself before experience clouded his judgement. "We have these sort of battles for you. If a future leader could prove themselves competent in battling, then they will be strong enough to take down any threat. No more will we have leaders who hide upon the people's pleads; they will fight alongside them as one. Not even the law can help with that; only the will of a battler can."

Silence once again manifested the classroom – that is until the girl spoke. "That is all." She then sat down in her seat without further protest.

"Are you sure, Ms. Dulizio?" Ms. LeFau questioned her with a demanding gaze. "Isn't there anything else you'd like to ask of Mr. Ron?"

"No, I understand his thesis," the girl declared with a light smile. "I know that he insisted that the government must maintain its unique stance to protect the region." She then smirked as she teased, "I understand, even if the contradiction was obvious."

The relieved expression melted off of Antro's face as he processed her words. The class exploded after that, making abrupt noises to dramatize the girl's statement. The teenager frowned as he saw the victory written all over her face. His blood boiled as he knew he walked right into whatever trap she set up, but now he had no choice.

"What contradiction?" he dared ask, uncertainty clear in his voice.

"Oh, you know," the girl began in a playful manner. "It's the part where you mentioned in your thesis that the reason why the government of Xionite needed to be so strict was to protect the people – something that not even a Magistrate could do. You even explained that it was structured so that the law could be above all." She then jabbed her finger to the notes sprawled on her desk. "Your mistake was opening the interpretation of the reasons towards this strictness to the refugees. Then you went against your own words and ended with how the law doesn't matter." Her amber eyes challenged his purple ones. "So what do you side with?"

Antro felt the sweat trickle down his forehead. For the first time, he had no decisive response to fire back. He then contemplated the dilemma he was caught in: if he stood by his thesis and argued that she purposefully side-tracked him, he would anger the foreigners and be framed for discrimination; however, if he accepted her words and stood by his explanation, this class in particular could become more bearable. The triumphant smile she wore irked him in that she would have this small victory over his head. He already knew what Mare would prompt him to do, but the teenager did not want to lose this argument so pitifully. Even if he wasn't in control of his presentation, he carried his pride in whatever way he could.

"I stand by what I said," the teenager declared as his throat felt dry. "No law can ever help to counter any destruction to Xionite."

Antro hated the pleasure he experienced at the approval from the foreigners. He hated the amused gaze of Ms. LeFau. He hated himself for wishing that for once, he would not be picked on for what he believed. Most of all, he hated the guts of the girl who outwitted him.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

"There you are!" a familiar, bubbly voice exclaimed from behind him. "I was looking all over for you!"

Antro turned around, a scowl twisting his placid expression. He was about to snap at the girl when she waved at him with one arm. He wasn't too sure on how to react at the rather peaceful gesture, so he crossed his arms.

"Antropeleus, right?" she asked as she approached closer to him. "Nice to meet you! I haven't seen you around before, so you must be a transfer student!" She offered a hand to him. "I'm Illéa."

Antro stared at her hand before he gazed back to her face, frowning in the process. Goodness, I thought I lost her after class! he shouted in his head. She already got the grade, right? She won; what more does she want? He tried to move away from her, but for an odd reason, his feet wouldn't obey him.

"You wouldn't mind if I called you Antro, right?" Illéa continue as she winked at him. "Your name is rather long. Plus, I'm sure that all your friends must call you that as well."

Antro flinched at the comment, but he played it safe as he leaned on the wall. No way am I going to pretend to be her friend. As she raised an eyebrow at his lack of response, he gave an apathetic stare. Illéa continued to pester him, but that's not what caught his attention; it was the way her arms flexed as she placed her hands behind her back. Is she hiding something? he wondered, concerned that it was an object to cause him harm. He occasionally felt sharp pricks on his skin, but that didn't bother him. At one point, when he did look at her, her eyes seemed too distant; however, her expression was still concentrated on him.

"You're weird," the girl concluded – probably from noting that he was ignoring her.

"Good," Antro replied, hoping that it meant that she was giving up on talking to him. "Now if–"

Before he could walk away, she grabbed his arm. The teenager barely held a gasp as he noticed the shift in her eyes; what once held nothing but innocence now regarded him with suspicion and accusation. What did I do? he questioned as he tried to fight against her grip. Antro didn't consider himself weak – despite not being keen on physical activity – but he found it absurd that she somehow didn't flinch at his struggle. It's almost as if she was... He dismissed those thoughts from his mind.

"You aren't from here at all," she declared with an edge to her tone.

Antro was so busy from trying to free himself that he failed to see that she had his Pokéball in her hands. He only realized it when she pressed the button to release his Pokémon. Before he could react verbally, the joyous cry of the released blue fish interrupted him. What is wrong with her?! he yelled inside his head. He then snatched the Pokéball from her hands, but by then it was too late; the hallway noise died out as hundreds of students froze, observing the duo. Antro's fingers trembled as he returned his Pokémon – a cheery Clauncher – back to its chamber. The only thing that echoed in the halls were heavy footsteps that he had no doubt were coming for him.

"I wouldn't try to run, kid," a deep voice ordered. "You know the rules of what happens when you release your Pokémon against school regulations." The same voice coughed sternly. "I'll only ask this once: turn around and comply with me."

Antro wasn't paying attention to the hall monitor; instead, he was assessing the situation. If he wants me to turn around, he's behind me, the teenager concluded. There's not a chance I'll let them take away Clauncher! He was well aware that panic was dominating him, but he didn't care. Without looking at the annoying girl that landed him in this problem, he ran down the halls. The students, much to his relief, allowed him to escape rather than stopping him. He heard the yells of the hall monitor, but he ignored that. He also ignored how heavily his heart pounded at the sudden adrenaline that went through his veins. Where to go? he wondered with slight worry. I can't keep this up forever. His fears were confirmed when he heard more hall monitors join the pursuit.

The students he passed by gave him various stares: envy for his recklessness, pity for his inevitable end, and encouragement for the brief entertainment he provided. Antro would've noticed it, but something else had caught his attention; the odd thing about it was that it wasn't tangible. The boy had no idea what it was, but all he knew was that he felt a pull towards the force. He could've sworn that he saw a faint string of light in the air, but he figured it was a fluke. Chance or not, he told himself as he continued to flee, I have no other options. Nearly a minute later, he had somehow found his way to the library. He didn't hesitate to run inside; however, the second he was in, the doors abruptly slammed behind him.

"Took you long enough," an awfully familiar voice declared, followed by a yawn. "I thought you surrendered or something."

Antro turned around and glared at the girl. No matter how much he wanted to insult her, the boy was having trouble catching his breath. Aware that he needed rest, he placed his hands on his knees as he bent over, inhaling all the oxygen he could take in. Curse that girl! he exclaimed as he recovered himself.

"It wasn't even that much of a chase," Illéa complained. "I didn't realize you were so out of shape. If I knew–"

"Why?" was all he could muster as his lungs burned.

Antro stared at the wooden floors, curious all of a sudden as to how she was here. It's like she knew I was coming, he speculated. Impossible! I left her behind; there's no way she beat me here! The pieces were starting to fall into place, but he refused to place them together. She has to be anything than that, right? No other explanation comforted him enough to eradicate the doubts that caused him once again to struggle breathing. As tempting as it was to make his anger known, he'd rather keep his eyes glued to the floor.

"You aren't like the rest of them," Illéa began in a hushed tone. "It doesn't affect you as it should be; you're different. I figured you wouldn't tell me anything, so I devised this little experiment. I apologize for summoning your Pokémon, but it had to be done."

With those last words, Antro suddenly didn't care what she was. They can do what they please to me, but they better keep Clauncher out of this mess! He looked up, fully recovered from the exhaustion. He marched over to her and glared at her with all the intensity he could manage.

"Do you not know what you did, whatever you are?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "They will come after me and take away my Pokémon! In case you are oblivious to the consequences, they will revoke my trainer's license, retain me for a semester and punish me for breaking school regulations!"

All Illéa did was shake her head. "You're not really understanding me, aren't you?" Whatever authority present in her expression softened. "If my suspicions are true, then ALPHA will be the least of your troubles." She then grabbed his arm and shoved a crumpled piece of paper in his palm. "We can't discuss this quite yet, but I would like to do so. If you want answers as to what exactly I did to you, show up on Saturday."

Antro tensed just as she moved away from him. He didn't dare breathe, fearing that it would confirm all he wished he could deny. After all this time, it was all for nothing, he thought in disbelief. I can't escape them, ever. I can't escape the wrath of those magicians. He did notice that Illéa already left, but he wasn't concerned about that. Instead, he was more troubled by how the magicians extended from the reservations to the urban life. He needed to know whether or not they plagued the region; more importantly, he wanted to know what she did to him. He glanced at the paper, detailed with instructions on where she wanted them to meet. The boy's instincts screamed to discard the paper, but the curiosity burned stronger within him. He needed to know if the safety he believed Xionite to have was another fallacy. I guess I'll be seeing more of those magicians then.

Without much of a choice, Antro walked over to the windows and pushed one of them open. I'll have to climb down from here, he thought as he realized he was on the second floor. The things I do for you, Clauncher. He anticipated what Mare might tell him once she heard of what happened, but he wasn't worried about that. All he knew was that he needed to escape before they came for him – even if a part of him told him to stay and surrender. He glanced at the campus greenery beneath him, estimating how fast he needed to jump to land safely.

And for the third time today, he made a choice that went against his resolve.