Mindy | Pokémon Fanfiction

Two 「 Your Sorrow, My Joy 」

Music: 「SNOWPOINT CITY」by Zame

How does a villain become a hero anyway? Mindy laughed and mocked Kōki back then for accepting Gaspar. She soon became a villain. Well, that's when there were people around her. Now that there's no one but herself, save for the Pokémon and the butterfly pea plants, there was no one to make a villain out of her. Still, it didn't mean she was any more heroic than before.

Heroic - the last thing Mindy was inclined to describe herself as. Snarling at the blizzard, she trudged forward, the Grass-types lining up behind her, making her their meat shield. Snow rained on her alongside the rays of the blighted sun, the curved trajectory of the diamond projectiles inviting her to the eye of the vortex, to Snowpoint City, the city mapped out like a snowflake. That's all it took, a snowflake to whip up a blizzard.

"Hush... I won't hurt you. If I do, I won't be able to redeem myself," she said as she rubbed her hands together. She forgot her gloves.

The path to Snowpoint City this time was soulless, a blanket of ivory oblivion. It made Mindy enjoy the company of the caterwauling Pokémon who, sometimes shivering, sometimes sturdy, clung to her ankle, swapped positions in their line every few seconds, huddled together for warmth. When was the last she had been this close to a Pokémon without the pressure of judgement? Perhaps when Mindycham was around. No, even then, it had hurt. Then it must be when she was alone with Gaspar.

Ah, such sorrow impeded her, froze her in place. It all started with her meeting with Gaspar. But it didn't matter now, not when she must focus on saving plants and Grass-types in a hailstorm. The past had no place in the precarious present.

With her pinky, Mindy tucked her hair behind her ears. Nothing can block her vision now. The snow dusted her body, but she would endure the cold with clenched fists and gritted teeth, every once in a while turning back to ensure the Pokemon were alright, or looking down at the butterfly peas in her hands to see that they still seemed healthy. It'd be best not to cross paths with an Abomasnow or a random trainer who might be hell-bent on breaking her, so she was a tad relieved to have the blizzard be her only opponent.

Yet it felt like eternity. She felt like she was walking in circles, unending, reaching nowhere near her destination. Behind her, the Pokémon soldiered on without complaint. She didn't know if they trusted her or if they merely repressed every thought, every lament.

When her knees grew wobbly, she paused and the Pokémon bumped into her, a cry in unison echoing across the white horizon.

"Is this man's pain even real? This is downright ridiculous! I'm never getting nearer to Snowpoint City!" Mindy howled and squatted. Her heart hammered against her chest and she wanted to hammer or perforate the botanist's skull. Her pressed lips, quivering like a leaf in the wind on the verge of departing from its branch, gave way to an empty sigh, the void within spilling out, sprawling across the snow, its invisible footprints that gave her hope that she may somehow be led, by despair or by ire, to the dastardly city of ostracism. Snowflakes were pointy for a great reason, and now she knew why.

Her immobility held her in its lull, but nothing could beat the calming Grasswhistle sprouting out of the Grass-type's mouths as they encircled her and patted her with leaves and vines. The Lake Guardians tricked her, she decided. They must have created this elaborate plan to banish her from the world once and for all, leaving her with the illusion of warmth coming ironically from Grass-types in an ice-bound landscape, Grass-types that were more fragile than her. Warmth she realised wasn't exclusive to Fire-types.

Vigor seeped into her being as if she were a plant absorbing light for photosynthesis. She had once despised Grass-types for their vulnerability, which was why she sought a Medicham to enhance her psyche and fighting spirit against her shadow self. This rejuvenation convinced her otherwise, yet it also frightened her: if she was capable of accepting even what she hated, would she then accept that she would always be hated?