The One With Apathetic Eyes

Chapter Three

As the morning moon began to fall toward the  horizon preparing to welcome the sun, Ash lay still on his bed. His body was on fire. Sadly he wouldn't know if it was due to the random bouts of pain generally followed by coughing fits of blood or the beatings he took, that caused it. At least he wouldn't know before he left on his very own Pokémon Journey. But even then he was unsure if he'd ever know if these 'attacks' as he called them, were merely a side affect of his treatment at the hands of his mother.

As though to answer him, he felt something rising up his throat and with a jolt he ran to the bathroom connected to his room. Before the sink, he coughed violently into the basin, red liquid splattering across the white marble surface. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror as he prevented himself from coughing more instead swallowing what was coming up he looked at himself. He was a mess, purple bruised skin surrounded his right eye, dried blood sticking to his left ear and messy bed head black hair where his mother had been grinding her shoe into his head. Blood slipping quietly down his chin from his mouth as a courtesy of the blood still left in his mouth. And his pale skin was a sickly gross white almost grey from the amount of blood he tended to lose daily.

Deep ruby eyes trailed down to his fingers clutching the counter, recoiling at the disturbing sight of ten oddly bent and battered bloody fingers, a sight that nearly brought phantom pain for what he hadn't felt fully in the act. Strangely, at least for others, as he stood before the mirror looking at the injuries that marked his body they felt numb. All he could feel was the burning fire in his chest that was spreading across his limbs and rising in his throat that made him fell like he was being burned at the stake.

It was a feeling he had been experiencing since his dad left nine years ago. Yet still no matter how many times he experienced it he never got use to the pain it brought and it never got any better, it always hurt and he didn't think it would ever stop not until he found the cause and even then he wasn't sure. With another glance at the mirror he shot a look at the Voltorb clock by his bed: 4:13 am.

He hummed. His mother wouldn't be up for another two hours. With a glance into the mirror he turned on the shower stripping himself of his tattered clothes. He'd need to be quick extremely quick if he was going to grab everything he needed in the house and depart to the Professors before she woke.

Stepping into the shower took quite a bit of courage on his part. The water was like ice chillingly cold but it gave him a bit of relief as he was set on fire as another coughing fit began. Blood flowing down the drain. Biting his tongue he swallowed the rest of the blood threatening to come up, he couldn't let his morning fits last longer than ten seconds at home else his mother wakes up.

Without mind towards his mangled fingers he combed them through his hair not minding the sting he felt as soap was lathered on broken skin. He worked carefully by his bloody ear careful not to cause harm to it as his hearing was of extreme importance to him. He then rinsed himself until the water dripping off of him, into the drain was no longer cloudy with redness.

Bracing himself he got out, shivering under a nonexistent breeze. Another glance at the clock read 4:48 am. He sighed at the precious minutes wasted in the longer then usual shower but a glance at the mirror proved it was worth it as his skin looked rosy hiding its sickly look due to the icy burn, his purple bruise faded a bit and with his hat would merely look like a shadow, and he no longer had blood in his hair or on his face, while his hair hid the cut above his ear. He looked good if he was to say so himself. Still...

He glanced down at his still mangled fingers. He'd have to wear gloves until he found a Pokémon at the Professors who could heal his fingers. There was no explanation for such injuries other then abuse, and he couldn't risk it. With a sigh he grabbed a new pair of clothes throwing them on before grabbing the hat his dad left him. Smiling in the mirror at the thought that he looked just like his dad except for his ruby eyes he quickly packed up his bag and went downstairs quietly.

Raiding the kitchen of the sandwich essentials he cleaned up so it looked as though he was never present and left just as the clock struck 5:34 am. Only as he made the ten minute walk did a sigh of relief escape him as he climbed into the Professor's outside lab and into the forest to find his old spot.

And as he sat down at his favorite tree only then did his mask come on and the world dulled as he played the role he was given looking at the darkened sky filled with grey clouds. It was likely going to rain in the next few days. A heavy rain likely judging by the clouds which was odd there shouldn't have been a storm as the sky was completely clear the day before.

Ignoring his unease at the odd phenomenon, he started his search for any Pokémon that had the potential to learn Heal Pulse. On more then a few occasions he had to hide from Trainers visiting their Pokémon, nearly getting caught when a Raichu heard him step on a twig. Likewise there were a number of times he spotted a what he believed to be a wild Pikachu glaring at him with distrust from the bushes which would also attack him if he ever got to close. After the sun had risen to a high enough point he ran into more Pokémon, as many were awake by noon.

Unfortunately despite searching all day, he was without luck and when the sky was dark he was forced to pack up and make his way home. Quickly checking for passerby he quietly began climbing the house to get in through his window. He wouldn't risk a beating by letting his mother know he disobeyed her and left the house.

Tired from the activity after such a heavy beating he lay down in bed. It was moments like these that made him think a lot where he was physically exhausted yet mentally awake. Thinking back on past events he tried to study the strange feeling that he used to feel when he saw neither Mew nor Gary after his friendship with both seemed to have ended without him ever knowing why. But as he still found himself puzzled by it he decided against dwelling in it. Shaking it off wishing to return to the numbness, he reached into his nightstand and pulled out a wrinkled paper.

He stared at it the same and yet different kind of pain in his chest as when Gary broke their friendship returning. Unlike with his ended friendships where after some time he no longer felt anything much toward them, the pain never dulled when he looked at the note. It was one of the last things he got from his dad, a goodbye letter he left alongside the hat, his dad would always wear. He had made sure his mother never saw either of the items afraid that she might get rid of them.

He had loved his dad, more then he ever loved his mother, even if he had left when he was merely two years old. He still remembered the quietness of his dad, how he rarely spoke but would always say his name and how warm he felt when he was holding him beside his large Charizard and of the Pikachu that was always on his shoulder. But now he couldn't feel his love for his dad, the numbness had taken it along with everything else. So currently he couldn't tell if he still loved his dad. Sighing he placed away the note and hat, he found he didn't mind as much as he should have not wanting to deal with problematic feelings, before he drifted off to sleep.