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It’s been two weeks since Chespin’s best friend was shot in the head right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Who would he tell, the cops? Yeah, right. Nobody would believe him. Some hyperactive 12 year old outcast versus a doctor. It wasn’t fair. He heard the gunshots everywhere he went. Kids playing cops and robbers on the street, yelling “bang, bang!” as they wielded their shiny plastic guns with orange caps. The first person shooter games he’d play with Mudkip. In his dreams. It was everywhere. Inside of him. Becoming him.
Nobody even cared that he died. He had no family who could be called about his absence. No search teams were organized. It’s like the town just let him disappear, on purpose. Better to forget than forgive. Word spread quickly once his house was raided. “Hey, weren’t you friends with that freak?” became a common question to Chespin’s ears. He still had to go to school. Pretending to be sick only lasted him so long. His parents loved him and could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t budge. He couldn’t. They’ve always been so protective that they’d try to do something. He couldn’t tell them and risk them getting hurt. Dr. Sylveon would have gotten them.
The only ones who knew were Tepig and Braixen. Tepig has been protective over Chespin since the incident, going off on kids who tried to pry too much into Chespin’s business. Braixen has been a little absent, avoiding the subject of Mudkip altogether. The current state their friendship was in was an awkward, limbo-like state. Chespin didn’t really have the mental fortitude to work to repair that right now, though. Nothing has felt real these past weeks. His friends would try to talk to him- to cheer him up. But it all went through him.
The last bell of the day rang, but Chespin barely noticed. As the teacher spoke he idly doodled on a piece of paper: A drawing of him and Mudkip playing ball, just like they used to. He wasn’t much an artist, but it didn’t matter. This drawing wasn’t for him, anyways. “Hey, Chespin!” Tepig’s voice caused him to look up from his drawing. A smile forced its way onto his face. Smiling was muscle memory at this point- a mask he hid in his pocket for convenience, pulling it out any time anyone needed to see it. He shouldn’t be so gloomy, anyways. Or else he’d end up like that ugly, brooding Quilladin he saw on the news. Chespin still trembles at the thought. Fear of the future was a black hole consuming his every thought lately. It sucked. He hated it.
Before Tepig could see, Chespin quickly threw his arms over the drawing he was doing. “Oh, hey Tepig! I actually have something to do here still, do you think you can handle walking home without me? If not, I’m sure Bulbasaur or Cyndaquil will walk with ya!” Obviously, he was lying. Both of them knew it. Lying to Tepig, lying to himself. He’s become a liar. He’s on the way to becoming a horrible, unforgivable monster. But he could still hang onto what he had left, even if only a little bit.
“Uhh, okay. Are you alright?” Tepig asked simply. Chespin nodded, humming an “mmhm” in response through his glass smile. Bullshit. He’d become a bullshitter. Tepig knew. Braixen knew. His parents knew. Everyone knew. And maybe that’s all he ever had been.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, just don’t lie to me.” Annoyance laced his voice, piercing Chespin like a knife. In not trying to hurt Tepig, he only hurt him more. Damn it. Realizing getting annoyed wasn’t what Chespin needed right now, he softened. “I’ll leave you alone for now, but don’t be a stranger. We agreed on that. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” And with that, Tepig walked away. Part of Chespin didn’t want him to leave. Small parts of him wanted to show Tepig the drawing he made of him and Mudkip, and talk about how good of a friend he was, and help his memory live on.
Chespin sighed. “Oh, Mudkip. Why’d you have to make this so hard?” Finally alone in the classroom, tears ran down his face, his throat burning as it threatened to scream out sobs. No. He couldn’t bring that negative attention to himself. Gathering his belongings, he wiped his face. Carefully he folded the drawing he’d made, slipping it into the pocket of his bookbag.
The woods were his place of calm. Though now bittersweet, forcing memories into his head of Fennekin before she’d evolved, and Chespin dragging Mudkip along into the creek where he’d talk his friend’s fin off for hours. Despite everything, it was still his. A grass type in his element. Nothing could feel more right than this. Chespin walked for a while, as he’d make sure to keep his space hidden away from anyone. Who knows what others would do if they came across this? Burn it, tear it to shreds, piss and spit on it while laughing to their friends. Mudkip was wrong about a lot of things, but there was one thing he was right about all along: The world was a cruel place. One Chespin may not have been ready for.
Inside of the tree hollow laid several pictures Chespin had drawn for his late friend, recalling the memories they once had. Playing video games, Mudkip helping Chespin out with math problems, Chespin trying to teach Mudkip what he learned in Taekwondo the following night. Now, the memory of the two playing ball as they usually did at recess would be added to the collection, one day to become one with the earth. Or at least the thought was nice.
“I know you weren’t really the greatest Pokémon.” Chespin started, sitting down and leaning against the tree, staring up at the sky as if talking to Mudkip in Heaven. “You were kind of mean, and bossy… and uh, even hypocritical. Sorry, I know that’s not really nice of me. Guess you were right- I can be mean sometimes, huh?” He laughed to himself, pretending it was a shared laugh with his friend right next to him. “It kinda grinds my gears, though, how others talk about you like they knew you. They act like I’m not allowed to miss you, and remember the good in you. Because there is- uhm.. was, good in you.” Tears welted in his eyes again, but this time he let it happen. Nobody was around.
“I miss you. I’m sorry our last conversation was an argument, it was all my fault. I wish things were different… I wish things were different.” Curled into himself, he choked out quiet sobs, shaking and hugging his knees with his eyes screwed shut. His eyes were tired from crying, bags hanging heavy under them from sleepless nights. Chespin was breaking from the inside, and it begun to creep its way into his appearance. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.
Sighing a deep sigh to calm himself from his sobbing, he wiped his tears and the snot from his nose. “I’m gonna go home, Mudkip. I’ll see ya’ later.”