In this part of Agape, Red prepares to leave for Celadon. Then things happen.

I know this took me a while to write but I’ve been kind of busy with such exotic activities as not being motivated and procrastination. And semi-crying, which is like crying but you don’t really have a reason to do so and you’re too tired to actually physically cry.

Enjoy!

–





Good morning.

The sun was shining in from below the curtain, coloring the empty grayish brown walls a glistening bright orange. Red rose up, filled with confidence. Today would be a good day.





Inkays were psychic, weren’t they? It wasn’t an issue, though. Red knew just how to prepare. After going through his morning routine, making breakfast for his lord and saying goodbye to Him and Fonz as they left for school, Red headed for Abe’s room. Abe had left hours ago already, so he probably wouldn’t mind Red borrowing one of his maps. Or maybe he would. Didn’t really matter.

Despite Red not being too acquainted with his brother’s room, a map of Celadon wasn’t hard to find, thanks to Abe’s well-organized bookshelf. There was one thing and one thing alone Red liked about domists: their predictability. A proper Helixian would never make his home so hospitable to an enemy. Another reason why Red didn’t like heating up the house too much.





Having found a map, Red proceeded to the basement and with it, to the next stage of his plan. He moved the bookcase blocking the door at the end of the hallway just enough to squeeze into the room. After that, he grabbed the hole in the back of the bookcase and pulled it onto the doorframe again. One could never be too sure.

He closed the door, turned on the lights and looked around. A coating of dust had gathered on the surfaces in the time he had been gone.

Good.

But the peace had to be disturbed again.

He ran his fingers across the backs of the book on the shelf, dust sticking to his fingertips. Soon, he found the book he needed. The words on its cover were still a mystery, but Red had managed to decrypt quite a few of the book’s pages already.

He laid the book open on the table, setting airborne a small puff of dust. He sought out the page with the symbol he required.

He then moved to his right. Rows and rows of glimmering metal greeted him.

Red smiled, but forced himself to stop right after. This was not a good thing. He shouldn’t be glad.

Now expressionless, he chose one of the narrower blades and brought it to the table.

Sighing, Red moved the book so that it would be easier to read and grabbed the knife with his right hand.





Red tightened the bandage and tied it. The bleeding seemed to have stopped. He was good to go. The protection would of course wear off gradually as the cuts healed, but Red only needed today. And if he needed more, he had another wrist.

Red opened the door and pushed his left arm against the bookcase. The wounds stung, but he withstood it without a blink. Slowly, the bookcase shifted and soon Red could fit through the doorframe. He closed the door, pushed the bookcase back and trotted up the stairs.





Red glanced out the window and saw Angel in the front yard, apparently preparing to leave. Red quickly grabbed his coat and gloves and ran outside.

“Angel!” he shouted.

The zapdos turned to face him. “What?”

“Where the hell are you going?” Red demanded.

“I told you a month ago already,” Angel growled. “I’m leaving for the next two weeks.”

“Well, sorry to say, but you’re going to be late. You’re going to fly me to Celadon and back.”

“Like hell I will,” Angel scoffed and spread his wings.

“You will do what you’re told!” Red snapped. “I’m your trainer!”

“Piss off, loser,” Angel mumbled and took off. The gust from his great wings forced Red to take a step back.

“Angel, you come back right-”

“Already told you to piss off!”

“Angel!” Red yelled, but in vain. Angel was too far to hear anything he said anymore.





Well. Now what? Celadon was miles and miles away. He couldn’t just walk, but Abba wasn’t home either and Red still hadn’t been able to acquire an official license to drive ATV around. They just kept saying that there wasn’t any legislation concerning mon-vehicle hybrids yet, so they couldn’t make any decisions.

What did non-trainers do in these kinds of situations again?





Oh, right. Public transport. That was a thing that existed.





The nearest train station was in Viridian, Red knew that much. So, not that far away. Red decided to head out for Route 1.





Having made it out of Pallet, Red realized something. Right! A train ticket would cost something. He did luckily have his wallet with him, but he wasn’t sure how much cash it had. If he didn’t have enough money, he’d either have to access one of those cash machines or steal. He didn’t know how to do the former, and he didn’t particularly specialize in the latter, either, so he hoped dearly that his money would be enough. He didn’t need any more problems right now.





Red took out his wallet and opened it. Good, there was a whole lot. It must have been the money from the last time he sold his… wares.

Despicable people he had to deal with, but he couldn’t complain. He knew he was worse.





“Whoa, whoa, what you trynna do, asshole?”

Red turned around to see a group of teenagers about his age as well as his height. One of them, apparently their leader, was looking directly at him. It seemed he was the one who had just spoken.

“Yeah, bitch, I’m talking to you!” the leader shouted. “You just flaunting your money like that? You think you better than me?”

The leader began taking steps towards Red, who cautiously put away his wallet. The rest of the group hesitantly followed.

“I bet you got yourself rich papa, huh?”

His words made Red involuntarily revisit an old question in his head. Was it hereditary?

“That’s why you so loaded, huh?”

Red said nothing. Maybe he would just go away after ranting for a while. If not…

“You privileged jackasses make me sick,” the leader continued.

Suddenly, he turned to his peers.

“Let’s rob this prick.”

At first, they seemed reluctant, but after exchanging a few looks, they stepped forward. Red couldn’t see any kind of weapon on any of them. It seemed they thought outnumbering him was enough.

“Bitch, we gonna show you how we do it in the streets,” the leader spat and raised his fist.

Red swiftly pulled his knife from its scabbard. Its blade glinted in the cold sunlight.

The leader’s eyes widened, and soon did the others’ as well. The leader stopped and tried to step back, but Red grabbed him by the collar, turned him around and raised the blade near his neck. Now that Red was so close to the man, he could smell the reek of cigarette smoke. He hoped it wouldn’t stick to his clothes, too. He hated the stench. It ruined the lungs.

Red glanced at the others, who’d already begun to flee, panicking and cursing.

“Calm down, calm down, dude! Lemme go!” the man whimpered. “Y-you don’t want trouble, do ya? I-If you do somethin’, the cops’ll get ya!”1

Red heard his words, but he couldn’t quite concentrate on them. He’d happened to set his eyes on the man’s exposed neck. With it, a familiar feeling had arisen.





Amidst the cold of snow and concrete, underneath the colorful but freezing clear winter sky, the heat of the man’s bare skin radiated.

Like a light flickering in the pitch black dark, his carotid widened and flattened to the rapid pulse of his agitated heart.

A heart of a young man in his prime, yet untouched by years of labor and worry.

A good, strong, living heart.





But no.

Red had to do the sensible thing. The man was right - Red didn’t want trouble. He didn’t need any more problems right now.

“Your cap,” Red said quietly.

“Wh-What?”

“It says ‘fuck the police’, doesn’t it?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Kid…”

Red leaned closer, right next to the man’s ear.

“If that’s how you and your coward friends feel about the law, how do you think I feel about it?”

The man let out a weak whine. Seemed like he was truly afraid…

“But you do have a point,” Red continued. “Covering up would be bothersome. So I’ll let you go for now.”

The man was silent, only breathing heavily.

“However, if you speak a single word about this to anyone…”

Red softly pressed the blade between the man’s clavicles. Red could feel him flinch at both the implication and the cold metal.

“I don’t think I have to explain any further.”

Red moved the knife away.

“Understand?”

The man nodded.

“Good.” Red let go of the man and stood back. The man ran off with a clumsy gait, eventually disappearing from Red’s sight.

Red sighed. Showing his knife would probably have been enough. Why did he always have to get so angry? It just made things worse…

He shrugged and turned around. What a waste of time. He’d probably miss the next train and have to wait even longer now, too.

Oh, well. Nothing he could do about it now. He’d better just be on his way already. Viridian wouldn’t get any closer if he didn’t start walking.

