MIRAGE ISLAND VACATION
Summary: Yellow's on a trip to Hoenn through her Uncle's boat trip! Isn't that sweet of him? But what if they crashed and were lost in Pacifidlog's sky tower?
Yellow scavenges for food, leaving Uncle Wilton and Gold fixing the boat. But what did she find when she was scavenging? The old hermit.
"Leave this place at once, young lady!" he called out to her, his pointing finger trembling with fear as his misty eyes stared into her brown-amber ones.
"M-Mirage Island. . . approaches. . . ! . . . f-from the. . . foggy mist. . . And will rise once again!"
This fanfiction was inspired by a book. Well, here's a hint to what Yellow will find when she gets to Mirage Island; there are no girls (BOO!), but she gets a cute roommate who's got the same tastes she does. But girls in the island are only used to make kids, boy kids preferably, and will toss them back to Pacifidlog with their memories erased. Man, when did I become so aggressive to my own gender? No girls? Er, rated T, I think, with some M's. So, you've gotta be around 15 to read this. And, er, Yellow and Gold are cousins here, so be warned, because there's some kind of cousin sweetness between them. . . I apologize, because Yellow's a bit angst-ridden here. FIRST EVER STORY! Hope you like it, or review, at least! Inspired by a book, which title name is beyond my knowledge. :D
It was a beautiful day in the City of Viridian. The folks were wearing smiles on their faces whenever they meet each other; everybody had their place of peace in this city. The men were working for their families, their wives were cleaning the houses and taking care of their children, and the children were always playing inside the forest, eventually getting lost, but will find their way back with the help of the pokémon there. The teenagers? What good would they do in this sort of place? All except for someone like Amarillo?
This is where our story begins in the house where a fisherman, along with his niece and nephew, lives.
A young lady of age fifteen sprawled on her bed lazily, sleeping like a day-old baby. The electric fan at the side of her room's blades continuously spun, circulating around the caged appliance with its speed turned up to 2. The whole bedroom was ambiguously small, although it resides many things. Literally. The girl sprawled on the bed snoring away didn't take notice of that all since last night, although it was her room. People always thought that she was a strange one, but she just smiles whenever they say so, and says, "Thank you". Strange, indeed, but in a good way.
Their house wasn't big, but it wasn't small either, it's just simple; like her. But how come she's still attained this simplicity? No one knows but herself and, she's trusted him once before and can't bother to trust him again (although he's pretty disloyal), her cousin. It had something to do with taste buds. . .
She moved jerkily in her sleep, knocking down every stuffed pokémon she's had on her bed beside her. Her hair was a bit messy, excluding the fact that she was asleep, she had tried to calm her bouncy bangs by tying her hair into a ponytail but they just keep bouncing from each other. She didn't mind at all, but they were a whole lot calmer when she was eight. . . Her cousin, however, envies her style of hair. He said something about "the newest trend" or "hit style" once before and couldn't believe that his cousin had followed it. So he tried to imitate it and his fringe had always looked exploded ever since.
Her forehead had creased a bit when she muttered in her sleep, making gestures and such, and hugged her pillow. The door to her bedroom opened slowly, creaking loudly.
Dumb ol' door, Yellow's cousin thought sourly, clicking the door knob in a fierce and savage way. He put that aside, and pushed the door slightly one more time and it creaked- silently, which was a relief to Gold. He took a deep breath, his stomach expanding, and he slid past the door and closed it gently, and the door snapped.
Gold thought it was the end of him for sure, but Yellow just sniffled and went back to sleep. Gold grinned a smirk worthy of a devil. He crept in tiptoe to her bed, snickering like a mad hyena. When he reached her bed, he raised an eyebrow. He doesn't get it. She's blonde, and he's got black, pure black, hair. And they're supposed to be related somehow!
He drew his breath, making it seem like he was breathing deeply, and was about to shout, rising to his feet, but Yellow moved jerkily again and her foot aimed a kick for Gold's-
Yellow woke up with a start, breathing fast, her eyes still glistening with tears because she just woke up. Gold whimpered in pain, kneeling at the floor, squeezing the middle of his shorts, moaning.
She yawned, stretching her arms, and then she scratched her head gently, clicking her tongue. She looked down to the side of her bed after hearing a moan. She popped a grin.
"Hey, Gold," she said, beaming. "How ya doing today? And. . . ," she looked dubious now, "what're you doing on the floor?"
Gold didn't answer, he just stood up, his expression dangerously murderous, and tried to hide this, though he wasn't good at doing it (in spite he actually knew he wasn't good at it- which was weird), by breaking a wide grin, breathing slowly.
He clicked his tongue loudly, not knowing what to say. Yellow sat up and tried to listen to her younger (but four inches taller) cousin, smiling sympathetically. This was hard, since Yellow smiling empathetically makes it difficult for anybody to lie. She tilted her head a bit like a child would do if she were curious. Her eyes were staring into Gold's face, not moving them, they just stared. . .
"Nothing, dear cousin," he said, adding emphasis to the word "cousin" significantly. "I'm just here to tell you that Uncle's finished cooking."
Though Yellow couldn't mistake his friendly tone, she'd spotted that the corner of Gold's mouth had twitched. Gold's inner self scowled as Yellow raised an eyebrow.
"Is there something you're not telling-?" she asked, but was interrupted when Gold snapped at her in an irritable voice she's never heard from him before in her entire life.
"Shut up and leave, Uncle's waiting with the steak."
Yellow immediately stood up and left without a word, eyes bulged, mouth sealed, hands beside the hips, marching silently, leaving Gold past her.
As she closed the door behind her, Gold nodded weakly. Then defiance whelmed inside him like lava, shouting after her at the door loudly, "Yeah, you better run!"
Then when he felt that he was talking to himself and he lost his confidence, he mumbled some stuff on his own and went out, leaving the door standing ajar.
As he had exited the bedroom, he walked past the several portraits Wilton had painted by himself in the Upper Hall, or as they call the miniature balcony they have inside their house which had hung posters and paintings of different important people neatly (and some dirtily) sketched.
He goaded past the pole of the stairs and used it to jump a few steps, landing on the fifth with a thud. Surfing, Skateboarding, Skiing, Billiards, Skating, Basketball, Baseball, Soccer, Tennis, and Badminton are things he does best. The other day when he'd finished playing Tennis, he called himself "Prince of Penis" all because there were admirers watching him play, most of them leaving with a revolted look on their faces. He was abashed, of course, since they were "sexy and hot and so rapeable".
He jumped the last four steps and slid into the kitchen dining room. He trotted to his seat, looking haughty, smiling heartily. He made a finger gesture to his Uncle Wilton and smirked at Yellow as if he were a superstar in the red carpet. He seized the top of his chair and sat on it next to Yellow, who was eating whole-heartedly; breakfast was her favorite meal of the day. She tossed her hair in what seemed to be in like a flirty way, but then again, when does she ever flirt? She just doesn't get why most boys are attracted to her. She just helps them, then cupid's arrow hits them.
Gold yawned as he stretched his arms wide in an arrogant way, making Yellow lower her head a centimeter from the toast. Uncle Wilton strode over to them, leaving the spaghetti in the oven, beaming at them all. His eyes were purely black, unlike his niece's and nephew's, his eye color isn't as unique. Though Gold had inherited from him his outrageously jet-black hair hidden under his beanie which he rarely ever takes off; that's where Yellow got that personality from. She always never changes. She still ties her hair into a ponytail all the time, never cutting her hair off.
Uncle Wilton handed out the plates he was holding onto the table, still smiling. Yellow immediately jumped off her chair just to say, "Good morning, Uncle Wilton!"
Uncle Wilton patted Yellow on her messy head affectionately, making it to look even messier. Yet Yellow didn't mind, she loved it quite actually. She giggled and gulped her food down, a bit of syrup stuck near her mouth. She had often licked it, like a child, which made her act more and more like a youngster.
"Mm-mm, Uncle," she said, gobbling down for some more. She rarely was like this. . . unless there were sweets. Her eyes glinted as if she was greedy for some more. One thing about Yellow that was weird was that she never grew up like the others. Popularity? Not in her vocabulary. She was well contented with her true friends; Blue was a new student, and was very flirty, although she was always with Yellow, she was more down-to-earth than she looked she was: she detested the ones who thought they were so hot and cool in school, which was why she always preferred Yellow, Crystal, Sapphire and Missy with her: Crystal was always serious, that was why Yellow was always with her to make her ease up a bit, besides, she had no friends her age (she worked for younger kids), and she was funny (at times when she gets "EH? YOU'RE OLDER THAN ME?"). Sapphire was the youngest of all of them, being only twelve, and was the shortest. She was kind of small, but never underestimate her. She was only about Yellow's height, who was also a bit short, so that's a big turnabout for Yellow, who'd been surprised to see a wild spirit in an imp body. She was. . . a bit aggressive. Wild as she is, she's got a good heart, although she has had a rivalry with the fop Ruby. Missy was Platinum's nickname, and whoever thought of it was really crazy. She was a lady for crying out loud, LADY! A lot say that she was a snobby rich girl, but Yellow only shies up to them and says that she was only misunderstood.
Gold rolled his eyes at Yellow. He then returned to his breakfast when Uncle Wilton shot him a death glare. Right, Uncle Wilton gives Yellow pancakes and flapjacks for breakfast and all he gets is hotdog. But that's okay, since Gold was a beef-lover, but just that? He scowled silently as he slumped over to the other side of the kitchen to get mayonnaise and ketchup.
When Yellow saw this, she asked the back of her cousin, whose front was busy squeezing the wretched ketchup. Her head cocked sideways, a look of concern in both of her eyes. She gulped the remaining pancake crumbs inside her mouth and said, "What's the matter with Gold, Uncle?"
Wilton had only been drinking water when she'd said this and nearly choked. The water had run only halfway to his lips. He winced a bit, lifting his back from the chair and lowering his hand on the table. From behind, Yellow heard her cousin chuckle aloud. She smiled feebly and just let it go by, giggling a bit.
Her mouth was a little dry apart from the fact that she's eaten about five pancakes with butter and syrup now. She clicked her tongue in a playful way when everyone had gone quiet, waiting for someone to speak. The silence was almost miraculous since they were making noises of all sorts afore. Yellow cleared her throat loudly as she always did whenever things are getting awkward. Gold shot her a look instantly and sighed while he cocked his head backwards, forcing his eyes to close.
"This is all too awkward for you, isn't it?" he said, pushing his head back, though can't helping a knowing smile. Yellow smiled feebly and went back to her food as if nothing had happened.
Yes, very awkward. Yellow stared at her plate which was full with the two remaining pancakes. . . and a half-bitten bacon. They formed a face. Though the smile was a bit crispy. She lifted her fork high and aimed for the middle of the bacon, then, striking it, nearly breaking the plate itself, she lifted it again and opened her mouth so that the bacon would enter. When she bit it, her uncle clicked his tongue. She looked up.
"Well, I can't say that this isn't awkward for me either," said Wilton, straightening himself in his seat. Gold slumped back to his seat, holding a stick which had a half-eaten hotdog stricken in the middle, the bite almost reaching the stick. Yellow could still see the ketchup and mayonnaise dripping from it. He pulled out his chair and sat. "Which is why, I'm happy to inform you, that we now have enough money-"
"He always says that before we get broke," muttered Gold to himself, snickering. Yellow had heard it and can't help but giggle. Fortunately, Wilton didn't notice and continued.
"-to sail across the sea to Hoenn, this time tomorrow!" exclaimed Wilton, lifting his arm a few inches above elbow, posing a sign of victory by lowering his thumb, pinky and ring fingers. Gold's head came from his arms when he heard what Wilton said, beaming, and standing from his seat, extending his arms and celebrating. Wilton took his foot off the chair and his tone became abruptly business-like when he added, raising one eyebrow, glaring suspiciously at Gold, "But I should warn the both of you. The trip to Slateport-"
"'We're going to Slateport?" Yellow said in surprise suddenly, rising to her feet as well, her eyes widened. The coast there must be horrific, since there was a tragic news report about it last week, about a flood, and about how fast the currents are in there. Her mouth can't possibly go any drier than this right now.
"Yeah! Remember, there's a beach there, which means there'll be girls," added Gold, his eyes turning misty with lust of aroused desire, he just had to bring a camera. . . and something contraceptive, if he could find one. He nudged his cousin in the shoulder, cocking his eyebrows knowingly.
Yellow found this irritable whenever he does this. She just doesn't get why he does that. But a beach? If there are girls, then, there will surely be boys, won't there? And she couldn't hide her secret forever. . .
"Bet you anything the boys there would be begging on the floor to just look at those balls," said Gold, licking his hotdog stick like the creep he is, raising his eyebrows as his eyes stared at her chest the whole time.
She looked down and her eyes fell upon her chest, half-expecting that they were flat: indeed, they have grown. And quite spontaneously, she might reluctantly add. Blushing, she turned back to Gold, looking flustered when he smirked lustfully, raised her hand, preparing for-
"BLOODY CRAP!" Gold shouted, groaning with pain when his voice was sucked into by swearwords, massaging his swelling cheek. Yellow's hands were cuffed on her mouth, gasping.
Gold kneeled on the floor, his hand still on his cheek, fainting. Wilton and Yellow stared at the pitiful figure, their eyes locked on Gold, looking slightly surprised. Then they exchanged uneasy and I've-seen-this-gig-once-before looks; Yellow had the uneasy look. She bit her lip nervously.
Wilton was suddenly overwhelmed with abrupt anger when he heard what Gold had murmured to himself quietly. He saw his lips move slowly, breathing several swearwords. Wilton looked down at Gold, scowling.
Yellow scooted closer to look, but Wilton made a gesture that she must leave the room, but was careful not to show what he was really going to do. Yellow, quite guilty, took a few steps backward quietly at the time Uncle Wilton was pretending to comfort Gold. When she reached the floor out of the kitchen, she closed the door behind her, her chest rising up and down with regret.
Uncle Wilton made sure that she was completely gone, taking a step forward to cuff his hands over the back of his ears, hearing faint footsteps. He turned back to Gold's pitiful figure on the kitchen floor, raising an eyebrow. Then slapped Gold in the back with no regret; Gold moaned ("UGH!") and fainted literally this time. Uncle Wilton patted his hands together and left Gold on the kitchen floor.
He left the room, closing the door after him, proud of what he'd done.
Back to Yellow, she was upstairs, readying her stuff to Slateport. What was she to do there? It must be fun, since it was her Uncle's choice to go. But then again, he really wanted to have grandkids. Yellow tossed several clothes into her open bag on the bed, looking harassed by his decision. The beach wasn't her type of place to go, yet Gold was the type to go. And she wondered why they were related. Her Uncle, Gold's father, was a rebel. So that was why Gold's mother had had it with him, divorced, and never talked about him since. Gold had inherited Yellow's eyes, for one thing, golden-amber for him, brown-amber for her. And he had inherited Yellow's jumpy bangs, though they weren't as jumpy before.
Yellow sighed in frustration as she spotted her bathing suit in her closet. It still fitted her, but that was years ago, when she wanted to be the center of attention in kids' parties. Now, seeming that she still imagines having a boyfriend, she decided it would be best not to do anything- whatrash with her general physique. Her best friend Blue always did something rational to other boys, but she's treating her best childhood guy friend, Silver, who was also Gold's best friend, differently, though the both of the boys have taken a huge liking towards her. And it was already obvious that Gold likes her.
She thought for a while. She closed her eyes, imaging a boy her age, blonde hair, her height, and had her eyes. He was walking in the beach, clutching his straw hat, but was wearing a diver's suit. His straw hat was being taken off by Gold, who was laughing out loud like an idiot, the boy's hair fell and her secret was revealed. He could still have saved it. . . if it weren't for those bandages; they slipped off her chest instantly when Gold had taken off her hat. The crowd wowed and whistled like a wolf, the girl kneeled on the beach floor, her face buried in her hands, weeping.
She went back to reality, and the scene in her mind's eye popped like a bubble. She was sweating crazily, she wiped the sweat from her forehead, finding that she was already clutching the damn swimsuit. She looked at it with earnest seriousness, then tossed it into her bag. She smiled when the guilt had floated away from her chest; it was really uplifting. But who said she was going to swim in the beach?
She strode over to the side of her bed, and stretched her arms so that she could plop down, thinking deeply. She was of age. . . And what harm would that bring her to? Actually, everything. She didn't think about love before, she thought it was only for the legible age, yet she was of the legible age. Something inside her was trying to break free from the struggles she was giving it. Something in her mind lit like a light bulb; maybe they weren't after her chest. . . She sat up, her back straight, and lifted her tee up a few inches above her tights, and, her left hand still raised to lift her tee, she slowly lifted her tights-
Darn, thought Yellow, letting go of the fabric as she nervously spread her arms out and plopping down on her bed. She was growing up. She looked at the facts whether anybody would still think of her as a boy; three inches of breast length, her waist was already in the shape of a wine bottle, and she was growing inches more in a week than she used to. Her eyes were staring fixedly on the ceiling, not taking them off it. She'd already packed her clothes, which were all of the same garments, her pajamas, her sketchpad, her pokéballs, her swimsuit and her-
Yellow shook her head at the thought. Her uncle always reminded her to wear it, but she preferred the bandages to keep her chest flat, yet it was as dangerous as poking a Slamance awake to not wear a bra whenever Gold is around. She'd always tell the truth to her uncle, but that doesn't mean she'd tell him everything if he doesn't ask.
She closed her eyes, breathed deeply and muttered silently, "So we'll leave home this time tomorrow. . ." She wondered if she'd tell Blue. . .
She clapped her hands enthusiastically and decided that she would. Yellow rushed to her phone and stabbed her fingers excitedly on the dial. Her heart was pounding mad, and it seemed as if hot blood had coursed all the way up to her brain. She picked up the phone and waited for a moment.
Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep. . . Beep-
"Yellow! I was hoping you'd call by now, I've been waiting near the booth for an hour," Blue's voice said, slightly irritated followed by the sound of a truck honking its horn and disappearing out to the other street again.
Yellow felt a kind of idiocy swell up in her brain just as if a ballon blows up within her skull and her heart sank like a paper boat. She tried to say something, but no word came out.
There was a sigh from the other line of the phone. Then Blue's voice appeared again all of a sudden, now calm and cool, "All right, all right. Now, you have to tell me something or else if you don't, you owe MORE a cent for this booth-"
Yellow immediately spoke up, her voice excited yet nervous, "Weadnoughm'neyailcrossHoenn."
There was a kind of sputtering from the other line, in which Blue herself did of puzzlement, and a giggle escaped from her mouth. Yellow blushed: she'd thought her stomach had dropped and landed somewhere with a sound cross between a splash. . . and a thud.
When Blue's giggles had gone, she returned to her former self again, picking up the phone, she called back to Yellow, in the most irritable voice Yellow had heard, who knew which Blue tried to keep it cool, "What the hell are you talking about?"
Yellow gulped. She fidgeted in her seat a while, not knowing what to say, then she repeated what she was willing to say, "We had enough money to sail across the Sea of Hoenn."
There was an ear-piercing scream from the other line which had Yellow to keep her hands covering her ears. She didn't want her ears pierced just yet. Yellow knew that she was going to react this way, but why does her scream have to be so loud?
This ended for what seemed forever until Blue kept her cool again. Yellow took her hands off her ears and examined it; hopefully, she wasn't deaf yet.
"B-Blue-san? Are you still there?" she asked uneasily, hoping she is. There was a tremble in her voice that shook her like mad. Her hands were both clutching the phone nervously, shaking. Fifteen seconds flew by and Yellow wondered whether the scream was out of terror. . .
Then, to Yellow's relief, Blue came back.
"I'm all right," replied Blue coolly, although Yellow doubted she was far from it. "So. . . You sure if I could come?"
Yellow creased her forehead a bit, thinking. She glanced at the door and turned back to the phone again. She didn't know. But if it was her Uncle, then surely he wouldn't let Blue come. The memory still haunts him. . . Yellow shuddered.
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want you to get in the way again," said Yellow, smiling a bit from laughter. She tried to hide it but Blue saw right through her.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. No more cake for me," said Blue automatically. The thought of ruining a moment with someone with Uncle Wilton brings total horror to all. Then her tone became ecstatically different when she added teasingly, "But once you're there, save me a guy!"
Yellow was about to say something to Blue, her temper rising from total embarrassment, but before she could do it, Blue hung up. Yet she had, Yellow screamed, although she knew she had hung up, "BLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"
There were shuffling of feet heard from the stairs and somebody sliding (which Yellow knew full well was Gold), and the footsteps became louder, until finally her door opened with a bang.
Uncle Wilton surveyed the area, holding up Gold's baseball bat, looking suspicious, in a weird stance Yellow had seen one too many times before. His eyes were darting from wall to wall until they landed on Yellow, who was smiling sheepishly. Gold, meanwhile, was looking as though he'd just been awake (probably from fainting). His right hand was palm-faced while his left was clutching tightly to a loaf of toast.
Gold lowered his hand slowly, his anxiety decreasing. He turned to Yellow, looking disappointed and said, "What the hell was that about?"
Wilton stepped in, tossing the bat on the floor, his night-slippers making squeaky noises. "I agree with your cousin, what the hell was that?"
Yellow shuffled her feet sheepishly still. Her eyes were staring fixedly on her knees. She knew that her family would behave this way. She gulped, then stammered, "I-I just got a c-call from B-Blue-san."
Gold's eyes instantly widened and his sleepy expression had been replaced by a flirty one. He raised an eyebrow, looking positively agog by this. "You did?"
Yellow was kind of revolted by how her cousin acts around her friend, due to the fact that she was three years younger than him and she was, by all obvious means, taller than him. Yet he always does this to every girl. Well, unless they're above thirty-years-old. But she responded anyways, and was about to plead Uncle Wilton to let Blue go with her, then she remembered Gold, and forgot about Blue's going with her for a moment, "Y. . . yes, I did."
"What does she want?" snapped Uncle Wilton abruptly; he yawned out loud to show he had no interest before this point of the conversation. Yellow scratched the back of her neck, wincing slightly.
"Sh-she just. . . wanted to ask me what's up," she said automatically: completely carelessly. Gold's expression turned gloomy all of a sudden and turned around to face the door, slouching.
"Is that all she asked, Yellow-san?" said Gold grumpily, trying to make up a conversation with no thought of even continuing it. Yellow sensed this and didn't respond at once until he left the room.
She looked at Uncle Wilton, whose hands were on his hips, bawled into fists, with a murderous expression in his face. Yellow smiled, though she knew he couldn't be fooled.
"Last time that-"
"Don't call her a taboo word, she's not like that. . ." said Yellow suddenly, standing up for her friend. Wilton scooted a step closer to Yellow, looking down her at eye level. Yellow smirked; she'd grown a few inches last summer and was still growing.
"Last time that girl was here, she interrupted s-" he paused, looking down at her face; Yellow sneezed. He didn't want to teach her the wrong, so he continued as if nothing had happened, though his face was quite pink, "she interrupted something I was doing."
Yellow blushed as well. She'd been there too and hadn't understood exactly why Uncle Wilton was pinning that alluring woman to the wall, but now, she understood it all too well. He was just about to propose to her at the same night they were going to have-
"N-no, it's not that, it's just. . . . ," she began awkwardly, not knowing what to say, "she just wanted to ask me what's going on with me."
Wilton raised a suspicious eyebrow. Yellow became dubious too, then she realized what she had said and tried to patch it up.
"N-not like I've been weird or anything- I mean, about what's up with me, that's all," said Yellow, stammering. Uncle Wilton looked relieved with his expression like a Pineco going off at any second which has just turned off at the time Yellow spoke.
He turned to the door, waved his hand feebly, and saying, "Good, then, we'll be leaving at ten."
Yellow's heart gave a loud thump. She found herself on her feet, exclaiming loudly, "What?"
Uncle Wilton wheeled around to face her again, his eyebrow was cocked unknowingly. He had a look on him that spelled "I thought you already knew?". Yellow knew her Uncle all too well now, though he was still full of surprises. "You weren't told? The plan's changed. The rudder of the boat was already fixed and we're set and packing, aren't we? Why not?"
Then he marched off without another word, biting his toothpick so it can be raised high, reaching the first step of the stairs, leaving Yellow gaping inside her bedroom, shocked. When will they ever return here? Was she going to leave all her friends behind? Well, friend. Her other best friend was, of course, in the other region different from Hoenn and Kanto.
She let herself fall on her bed and stare at the ceiling with dismay. What on earth was she to do there? God knows.
A/N: Wow! Writing sure is fun! Have an awesome summer! I'm not going to learn in the same school anymore after summer ends. . . but my friends (including YOU and the teachers) will somehow remember me a lot longer than I can them. But I will always remember to update soon, so see ya!