Embers Searing, Bleeding, Everlasting

Squirtle and Bidoof, two boys, both young and fierce, began their night in love. Safe within the jaws of Sharpedo Bluff, viscous candlelight trickled between those dull stone into the wuthering night – Bidoof gazed upon Squirtle who stood on the precipice with his back to the fathomless sea. Despite the bitter draft tearing at the skin on his tail, Squirtle met Bidoof’s eyes, and Squirtle knew he beheld the face of a cheater. And yet, Bidoof’s stare was soft and full of love, he smiled at Squirtle and was excited, he sat on Squirtle’s straw bed and was relaxed. Squirtle wanted to do the same. With his simple joy, Bidoof could dredge their rusted love to the surface, but Squirtle knew it was false. Bidoof had cheated on Squirtle, he had been for many weeks, and although he guised the actions of love, he did not really love him, not since a long time, and he had been disloyal for just as long.

But Squirtle could remember, once they had been happy, they had been perfect, the sight of each other was endless cheer after a day of strife and fright. Once, when upon the high mountain summits where the air was sharp and thin, legs seizing from the awful climb, where they had collapsed by the cliffside. There were three of them there—Squirtle, Bidoof, and Bulbasaur the once-human and Squirtle’s greatest friend—and they were hungry, bruised, and breathless, and they laid there upon the dusty rocks with thoughts of death and disaster. It was grim, until Squirtle gave Bidoof a prolonged gawp (and it was a very stupid look indeed, he was exhausted) and they both broke out laughing. They all rallied and pushed on through, forging back down the mountain and through the wilderness and back home. They had all proclaimed to never return to that mountain again, at least until some sod managed to get themselves lost there, and who else was qualified for the rescue except Treasure Town’s premier pair of explorers. Bidoof’s humor was absolutely obscene on their trek back home, he was always like that when tired. It was cute. 

When the couple weren’t wandering off on unsanctioned ‘adventures’ they had spent their time having lunch or dinner, or just walking together, walking was good. 

That love was sour not, they had not seen each other for fifty six days – Squirtle had counted. Bidoof was seeing someone else, he did not love Squirtle. Squirtle must not love him back. He knew that Bidoof was a traitor and that treachery was to be hunted and smothered. Bidoof’s long and winding lies would be laid plain for all to see, the time had come and Squirtle must strip out the whore swiftly and without pity. He must be the hangman, he must be deaf to pleading and he must be firm against mercy. And yet, standing before him – smiling at him – was the same face that had fostered their unbreakable bond, same voice, same fur, and the relentless determination that Squirtle admired so. Bidoof, who had made life truly worth living. Squirtle was delighted to see him again, must he lose him for good? 

Then, Squirtle reminded himself of the state Bidoof had left him in, how he abandoned him and hid the truth, the love that Bidoof had promised for him was given to another. To Stay with Bidoof would be to grovel in fake affections, Bidoof did not deserve Squirtle anymore – Squirtle’s anger welled up, although he did not show it. He fastened a yellow bowtie to his neck and he pulled it tight so that it choked himself. 

“That’s a handsome fellow,” said Bidoof.

Squirtle simply smiled.

Bidoof knew none of this, to him, it would be a happy night, he trusted Squirtle, trusted that Squirtle was still ignorant of his falseness, trusted that Squirtle still cared for him. And he did deserve to be cared for, he was kind, strong, constant, he was a star from the heavens roaming the lands, he was a blazing fire in the depths of winter. But not to Squirtle, not anymore. Stars twinkled, fires flickered, Bidoof faltered. He had found someone else anyway.

If each partner was a half of the whole, then each must be perfectly loyal to the whole. Such were the conditions of love. Squirtle had been perfectly loyal, Bidoof could have – should have been, but was not. 

He must condemn the cheater. 

Bidoof was an explorer for many years more than Squirtle and Bulbasaur, yet he was still an apprentice. And despite his experience, he was still regarded as weak and could not adventure alone. Often, Squirtle accompanied Bidoof on rambles into the woods and caves where accompanied Bidoof on rambles into the woods and caves where, under the water type’s guidance and protection, Bidoof could adventure at his own pace rather than scrambling in the dust of his teammates. But Bidoof had recently been ‘very busy’. “I’m really sorry, but the guild is giving me a lot of work. You’ve already graduated so no one has told you yet, but I think we’re going on an expedition soon and there’s lots to be done. I barely got picked last time, I can’t be slacking off now. I promise to make some time for you as soon as I can, it should all be over soon,” Bidoof had said. Without him, Squirtle drifted with no direction. All the time he dedicated to Bidoof was suddenly empty. First it was boring, then it was lonely and in his lonesome patience he worried, he longed, and he thought. His worrying thoughts made him high-strung, his longing drenched him in despair, and his longing worries made him realize that something had gone terribly wrong. Squirtle asked around, mostly at Spinda’s ‘café’ and also miss Kangaskhan. No one gave good answers, most of them went on and on about how never realized Squirtle and Bidoof were more than friends, and miss Kanghaskhan was very good to him about it all, but she couldn’t help him with his missing boyfriend. Then, Bulbasaur – with his fortitude and substantial intelligence – had found the answer for him, and in remembrance, it was obvious from the day it began. Bidoof was cheating.

“Are you ready,” said Bidoof. First, they were having dinner. 

Squirtle walked away from the precipice and into the fragile warmth of the candles. 

Bulbasaur clambered down into Sharpedo Bluff, ranting under breath, he appeared with a lantern held in one vine, and a paper held in the other. The once-human was a bizarre specimen who seemed to exist in a state of cosmic regard. He was a citizen of the future, traveled back in time to prevent the collapse of Temporal Tower and Time itself,  but had lost his memory in the process, transformed from human to pokemon, and also gained magical powers. Bulbasaur was Squirtle’s counterbalance, he was witty when Squirtle was scared, jovial in the face of disaster, and cautious when surrounded by jubilation. Bulbasaur would be coming along tonight, by his own demand. Bidoof liked him enough, and Squirtle thought that if anything were to happen, Bulbasaur could keep them safe from each other.

“Hey guys,” Bulbasaur said. “I see you’re leaving? I’ll be right behind, after I catch my breath.” 

No one disagreed. Bidoof led the way and Squirtle fell in line behind him. As Squirtle

passed by Bulbasuar, one of his two vines slinked around his wrist.

“What is it,” said Squirtle.

“This isn’t the best time,” Bulbasuar whispered, “but I found this and thought you should see for yourself.”

“A letter? Have we been sanctioned by the Exploration Federation?”

“No, it’s something else. It was outside Bidoof’s dorm, on the ground. I took a peek. 

Yes, you’ve figured it out.”

“I don’t need this.”

“It is proof. He may try to turn your words against you, but this is irrefutable.”

“Yes, that would be useful. And, I’m sorry to call upon you for such a grim duty.”

“We are brothers, I am always by your side.”

Bulbasaur gave a sorry smile and continued on. So did Squirtle, jogging to find Bidoof who had wandered off in his own little world. Squirtle examined the letter as he jogged – black lines on brown paper, handwritten with care, creased and folded by Bulbasaur’s vines.

  Hey, Bidoof goof, haven’t seen you for too long.

Come out with me next Friday to that restaurant with the windows,

Yes, Squirtle will be with you, but you’ll be with me too,

And maybe we can stay out late to watch the stars

XOXO

-Corphish

Squirtle winced, Bidoof’s love, once given to him now swooned away. He had been discarded. Squirtle must discard Bidoof in return, harshly, so that he may match his hurt. And the tempter was Corphish, he would be present tonight. Corphish ought to receive his ire as well.

Squirtle stuffed the note in his heavy wallet, he arrived at the crossroads of town and caught sight of his boyfriend ambling down the road into town with a metered gait and watching dead ahead as he always did when he was a little tired and waiting for something to happen. 

“It really is pretty tonight,” Bidoof said.

“Bidoof, I’ve been lonely,” said Squirtle.”

“Has something happened with Bulbasaur?”

“I’ve missed you.”

“So have I.”

“I will miss you forever,” said Squirtle.

“I am with you forever,” said Bidoof.

“No, you won’t.”

“I fully intend to be buried beside you, my love.”

“I would, but you would not.”

“No?”

Squirtle said, “I wonder who we would be without each other?”

“You will never need to wonder,” said Bidoof, confused.

“You’re right, I won’t. I already know. You will prosper on without me, but I will shrivel away and die.”

They came upon the restaurant with big windows, built with pale pine and a copious amount of nails, it was a small mansion with the street side walls replaced with glass. There was bustle within, but all silent from the outside, thick light dissolved out from inside – through the spotless glass was an image of daytime held hostage into the night, the color, food, and fine furniture sealed within, all the motion of conversation with none of the sound. They entered and Bidoof dealt with the servers. The time was close now, among the sticky scent of roasted berries, he would be baleful to Bidoof, he who left him behind. Such a pretty face could hide such a callous heart, such kind words had earned his trust, and from the trust was their love betrayed and pierced, Bidoof made a bleeding mess out of Squirtle’s devotion. But Squirtle knew, felt it burn, that their love, though deeply wounded, still lived. Squirtle must kill it dead. 

Suppose, Squirtle never found out, would he spend the rest of his days in ignorant hope that his lover would return? 

Bidoof had not the courtesy to say goodbye, he had not the courage to be honest and neither had he the virtue to be faithful. 

Squirtle knew Bidoof would crumble under harsh insult, that’s where Squirtle planned to strike. All the names he had defended Bidoof against would be unleashed upon him, and he would break him apart with reverie. Squirtle must cut Bidoof down through flesh and bone until he could taste the searing misery his frivolity had caused him. Without Bidoof, Squirtle was nothing, perhaps he could enact one last justice before he became useless to the world. It was righteous.

They went to their table, with four seats, as agreed. But the two had not been the first to arrive. There was Corphish, dressed very nicely, at their table, waiting, watching. He glanced at Bidoof and fixed his eyes upon Squirtle in examination while bearing a plain expression. 

“Hello,” said Corphish. 

“Hello, Corphish,” said Squirtle. “You are in our space. I reserved this table.”

“The waiters put me here,” said Corphish. “Let me go ask them.” 

Corphish left, Squirtle and Bidoof sat across from one another. Bidoof concerned himself with his order of food, Squirtle placed his knife beyond his arm’s reach. There would be no death of pokemon, hopefully. Until Bulbasaur arrived, he could not be sure. If all the room tried to fight him, Squirtle would win, if Bulbasaur fought him, Squirtle would lose. But Squirtle would not wait, waiting for Bidoof to never return, waiting for Bulbsaur. No longer.

“How goes your training at the guild, Bidoof? Have you been enjoying it more,” Squirtle began.

“It’s been the same, but more, busier. The expedition, remember?”

“Yes, I do, although I don’t recall that apprentices are supposed to be involved with preparation. I’m sure you still have ample time to rest.”

“Of course, the guild is harsh, not cruel.”

“Isn’t this a distinction lacking in difference?”

“I can endure harshness, but I will not choose to suffer cruelty,” said Bidoof.

“But when unhappy circumstance makes cruel things the kinder choice, to fight for your life despite broken bones, or to save a hundred pokemon by your own sacrifice, would you suffer it?”

“But this is not really a choice, I am bound by love and duty to suffer.”

“Love of who?”

“Regardless,” said Bidoof, “I am free to remove myself from the guild if need be.”

“And give up exploring?”

“You’d teach me in their stead.”

Squirtle sipped his water. He would have reached him before, but not anymore. Squirtle changed his channel of attack. “Lot’s of time to see other people then,” he said.

“‘Seeing people?’”

“In your off time, instead of visiting me.”

“I have a little time between errands but not nearly enough time to race across town to see you.”

“I’ve been visiting, and you’re never there.”

“Well, because I’m working. I could say the same for you.”

“Someone must have caught your interest in that time.”

“I’m not looking for anyone else. Have you been?”

“Never, but I doubt you have the same fortitude?”

“I have much fortitude,” said Bidoof. “Perhaps it is less than you, but sufficient nonetheless.”

“What do you think would happen if I broke my loyalty to you?”

“I will not entertain the idea.”

“But if you do not consider it then you are unprepared for the possibility.”

“It would be impossible,” said Bidoof.

“And if I hide it well, you would be wonderfully ignorant while I, the harlot, is off with someone else when I should be with you. And if you discovered me, what would you do?”

“I don’t know.”

“And if you did it and I discovered you…”

“It would be a horrible day,” he muttered. Bidoof stared at him, he thought, he realized. “Is something wrong, Squirtle?”

“Should I lie?”

“We do not keep secrets from each other.”

“But you have, for fifty six days and I suspect even longer.”

“I have not! There is nothing I know that you do not.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of pokemon to lie, Bidoof.”

“Because I don’t.”

“And thus it has been such grief learning that you have been deceitful to such a terrible degree.”

“Me? I have not wronged you.”

“Keep lying.”

“I’m trying to help you!”

“You dimwit, I know the truth now, take responsibility!.”

“Who are you calling that,” Bidoof glared at him.

“The good for nothing idiot sitting across from me, a heartless traitor and a sham of a pokemon.”

“S-shut up.”

“But I find it to be very true, Bidoof,” Squirtle spat with venom. “What else is the reason for your failure at exploring?”

“I haven’t failed, it just takes time!”

“This much time? Didn’t you promise your mother to be home soon?”

“I’ve visited very many times. It takes weeks to get home, weeks of peril and using all my spare money. You’ve seen me do it, you know it’s hard for me.”

“Every time she asks if you’ve made it, every time you disappoint her. Don’t you think she’s getting tired of this charade?”

“I already make her proud!”

“Or so she says to your face because everybody knows you break down at the slightest provocation. I wonder what she really thinks of her little kit who clings to her well past his tenure. Maybe Wigglytuff only assign you praiseless busywork because you embarrass him, and when people awe at the reputation of Wigglytuff’s Guild they will have to hide you away so that the pathetic beaver would not sully their image.”

“I give all my blood, sweat, and tears. Is it not enough,” said Bidoof.

“Ah yes, your virtue of persistence. Wasted upon your blundering paws so that you can forever earn sympathy but never success. It isn’t enough, you’ve never been, you’ll never be.”

“But my success is supposed to come with time!”

“We’re all tired of waiting for you to do something useful for once.”

Bidoof was tearing up. “I am useful!”

  Then, Squirtle said, “I know you’ve been cheating on me.”

“I’d never.”

“You have been.”

“I haven’t!”

Squirtle growled. “You lying shit, stop hiding! Must you drag me at the end of your leash for eternity? I am joyous when you are too, and I wallow when you aren’t. My head hates you, but my heart still loves you and please, just tell me, let me hear that you do not love me! Speak the horrid truth and dispel my hope, have I not been good enough to deserve this small respect? I give all my time and attention and this is what I get. You took my love and murdered it in the night and still you think that I don’t notice – did you want to run away with Corphish before I could realize and leave me awaiting your return from ‘guildwork’ until I die? Perhaps you never loved me at all.”

Bidoof was crying, forcing his words between fragile breaths. “I have, I always have. I love no one but you.”

“Shut up, you stupid buffoon. You’ve gone with him already. Between you and Corphish, I am an afterthought. Why didn’t you say when our love ended, did you fear me, that I wouldn’t let you go? Now look what you’ve done to me.”

“But I love you Squirtle, who has made you deaf to me? Please, don’t be angry.”

“How I cried to realize that your tenderness is illusory, how it hurt to concede that all your promises are false. You left me, you have no intention to return, you shall feel that same pain.”

“Stop, please. You’re scaring me.”

“With my strength or with your weakness? I once believed you could succeed, despite your stupidity, I wanted to help you become a great explorer. To think I was once your staunchest champion, that I praised you in my prayers, that I would have followed you off a cliff. I was stupid too, and you are pathetic. And will you still lie to me now that you know just how much I loved you?”

“I’m not lying, I’ve never lied to anyone. I’m honest to my faults’ end, why won’t you listen?”

Squirtle laughed. “I see then that I mean nothing to you, maybe I never had. I have suffered a terrible deception that you made me believe there was love between us at all. Leave me, I have all the right to stop you but I will not. I will not hold you captive and make you stay, you’d simply lie to me forever onwards. I ask you though, before you go, who will you be without me? If I’m not there to fight with you, will you fight at all? Will you still learn without me to teach you, perhaps you’ll be forced to return home with no success and squander your days there knowing the only thing you ever managed was to fail.”

Bidoof was curled up and sobbing, he was not listening anymore. Squirtle was finished speaking anyways, he took the letter Bulbasaur had given him and slid it across the table, he gave the wallet itself with all the money to Bidoof as well.

Squirtle said, “elope away, Bidoof. Forget about me and go somewhere I cannot find you. Part of my heart still refuses to leave you. Take it. I will never love again like I loved you.”

Squirtle took off his bowtie and tossed it on the table as well. He slinked into the darkness outside and the door swung shut behind him. 

---

It was drizzling and the wind blew it everywhere, outside, inside, it wrapped Squirtle and Bulbasaur in a cold sticky film. Squirtle gazed between the jaws of Sharpedo Bluff where he had stood earlier that night, gazed at the crackling of rain upon ocean waves, gazed at his own sleepless exhaustion. Dull and restless. He lifted his tail, dropped it, lifted it, dropped it, again and again until it was sore, until it was raw, until it bruised and still he kept hitting it because – splayed upon his straw bed so that his whole body was cold, scathingly cold cold, then numb. Bulbasaur was calm beside him, having spent hours searching for Squirtle when he had left the restaurant before Bulbasaur could arrive, finding Squirtle alone at home, lying prone and looking dead. 

The cold, the dark, the quiet. Squirtle’s heart trudged against his thickening blood, his lungs struggled with the heavy air, and his thoughts were leaded and loitering. Baneful memories of Bidoof sobbing, tears upon his beautiful face, his shivering, the moment he lost his will to argue. No, Squirtle had taken his will from him by force with the things he said, with the things he could never say again, not that they would see eachother anymore. 

Bidoof should never have deserved it, but he did. Bidoof should never have cheated, but he did. Why did Squirtle volunteer to confront him? The stupid fool, both of them, why did Bidoof do it, why did Squirtle find out, why did Squirtle believe it? They could still be together, together in false love, but together nonetheless if only had Squirtle kept quiet. Squirtle still loved him, he still wanted Bidoof, but Bidoof did not want him.

“Still can’t sleep, dear,” asked Bulbasaur.

“Can’t you?”

“Not with such a storm about you.”

Squirlte ‘harrumphed’.

“Would you like me to rest in your bed with you,” said Bulbasaur.

“Only if it helps you sleep,” said Squirtle.

So, Bulbasaur came over and Squirtle made space. Bulbasaur draped his vines over his shell and pulled Squirtle to him. Bulbasaur’s warmth leaked through his shell, it was nice to touch another person.

“What will you do now without him?” Bulbasaur’s voice was right in Squirtle’s ear. His gritty, steady, mellow voice. 

“All his hugs and kisses, I still remember them, but one day I will forget, that dreadful day when this new pain and that old joy both leave me. It cannot be delayed, now that we won’t hug anymore.”

“Then let me be your companion until it all fades and ever onwards.”

“You already are,” Squirtle grumbled.

“Really? In what way,” said Bulbasaur.

“You’ve been with me since I found you on the beach, then we were friends, now we are brothers. Perhaps we could call ourselves halves of a whole, for I don’t think we’ve been apart since we met.”

“That’s awfully romantic, Squirtle.”

“Urk, I didn’t mean it in that way,” said Squirtle.

“Haha, brotherhood, romance, don’t they look the same! Imagine if we were lovers” said Bulbasaur.

“I mean, that wouldn’t sound too bad… I know you, I trust you. Although I thought that of Bidoof as well.”

“I am nothing like that vile creature.”

“No, you aren’t.”

The two talked for a while, past dawn and well into the morning. Neither had rested by the time they left Sharpedo Bluff, but Bulbasaur still met the day with perk and cheer. Squirtle trailed behind him, what they did and where they went Squirtle did not and could not care. Bulbasaur would do all the thinking today, Squirtle would be dragged like a boulder on a leash. 

The road from town to Sharpedo Bluff was a long, flat, dead-end piece of dirt. Sometimes birds and bugs would come this way to catch the updrafts that swept along the cliffside, but to see Corphish marching towards the two… Squirtle wished he didn’t see him.

“You two are late,” said Corphish.

“We aren’t apprentices, Corphish,” said Bulbasaur. 

“You will follow me,” said Corphish

“To where?”

“To apologize.”

“Please, don’t make me see him again,” said Squirtle.

“Shut it, you brute,” said Corphish.

“What I did was justice, I will not apologize ” said Squirtle.

“There was no justice last night, but there will be today,” said Corphish

Bulbasaur leaned over to Squirtle and he whispered, “go along with  it, you’ve proved yourself correct already, just need to do it once more.” Bulbasaur spoke for them to Corphish. “We will come but do not waste our time.”

The three of them walked down to the guild under the sun’s roaring glory, all this heat and dust after the night’s rain and wind, the blinding baking light scoured Squirtle’s skin and skull. He baked within his shell, and the mad pounding of his feverish blood ramming through the bone between his ears, his hazy gaze upon the ground where it was not so bright. But even the the dirt was glowing under this light, it gave off fuzzy heat up until Squirtle’s knees and was bleached and looked of snow. The sky itself, Squirtle could not see. He glanced at it and was blinded, so he let his heavy head hang, mouth agape, panting. Pokemon like him were meant to hide in this weather but this fucking crab made him march without food or drink. He wanted to puke, he was going to faint. Bulbasaur took his hand with a vine and dragged Squirtle along, tenderly, of course. Still, he stumbled, tripped, limped, and, before he could realize and after much more than he wished to endure, they were atop the stairs to Wigglytuff’s Guild. 

They descended into the subterranean stronghold and Squirtle heard, faintly at first, the gentle crying of Bidoof. As they stood in the lowest floor atrium, the sound of his boyfriend hurt and in need of help. As they went down the dormitory hall, as his dulcet voice grew clear, as Squirtle’s wrath flared alive, as he felt terror at himself, as he could see, hear, smell, feel the brown and glossy fur of his tormentor, his victim, his love, his traitor – that thing called ‘Bidoof’ was there around the corner, through the doorway, waiting. Squirtle could not move, his joints were jammed upon themselves. Bulbasaur tugged his wrist and Squirtle stepped forwards to keep from falling but still could not move, could not enter, could not run. In there was a boy broken by his hands and his words and Squirtle still dared to show his face to him? Bidoof must be horrified, he must be disgusted, and Squirtle could not stop himself from feeling the same. He must stay away, for Bidoof’s sake, for his own sake.

Bulbasaur kept on tugging and step by step, Squirtle was led by hand into the room. 

Bidoof was upon his bed, curled up, faced away from them all. Squirtle stood on the opposite side of the room and was cramped between the second and third beds in the room so that he would not trample them. Corphish was next to Bidoof, Bulbasaur beside the doorway. 

“Did he come back? Is he angry? He scares me” Bidoof whimpered.

“He will not hurt you, I will not let him,” said Corphish.

“But is he angry?”’

“That doesn’t matter.”

“He has come to bury my broken heart.”

“He is here to apologize.”

“What good would it do? If I was nothing before, at least I had his affections. Now I am empty and useless.”

“He lies to you.”

Squirtle Snapped at Corphish. “Lie? To him? And what difference would it make if I did lie to you deceitful creatures. Tell me, was it Bidoof who came to you, or did you seduce him away from me, Corphish? I was generous with you two before and still you tempt me to defile you to the very brink of what the law will allow.”

“He is still angry, he is here for me,” Bidoof whined to himself.

“I only love Bidoof as my comrade, I would never seek to come between you two, especially when I see your joy together,” said Corphish.

“You are all he has now and now you also deny your love for him,” said Squirtle. “Bidoof, I speak to you now. Leave this wicked pokemon who has not the spine to be loyal to his lover when under the smallest duress.”

“I was never with him, only you! You are my first, you will be my last,” said Bidoof.

“If both of you hide together then I see no more reason to be here. I have made my stand, I will not agonize myself again.”

Bidoof declared, “ahaha! we still share, at least in torment. Although mine is of victimhood inflicted by him. We are bound forever in some small part no matter what, what a wonderful thing to cherish.” Bidoof’s laugh was choked out and weak, and though was delirious and exhausted, there was no irony in his tone.

“I swear by my life, and may you kill me if I am found to be false, that I have never laid a claw upon Bidoof nor subverted your love in any way.”

“Your obstinance tempts me to take pleasure in this horrid act,” said Squirtle.

“Why do you hate him, Squirtle? There is no evidence against him,” said Corphish.

“There is much evidence against you both and Bulbasaur found it, he enlightened me beyond your petty deceits and showed me the truth.”

“Then, Bulbasaur, who told you we were cheating?”

“I need no one to tell me,” said Bulbasaur, “it is obvious from the way you two have been acting.”

“And have you seen Bidoof’s ‘faithlessness’ with your own eyes?”

“Yes,”

“Swear it,” said Corphish.

“Who would kill me if I did?”

No one volunteered and Bulbasaur himself did not volunteer his life to anyone. But if the deed must be done, it would best be by Squirtle, he thought, he would kill him with mercy and love. Not that it would come to pass, Bulbasaur was right, Corphish was wrong. Corphish was about to die. But the thought of killing Corphish despaired him too, Corphish was once his friend, Squirtle could not bear so many tragedies in such a short time. Perhaps he would asked to be killed soon after too. 

“You have no faith in your truth, you are lying,” said Corphish

“I’m not stupid enough to throw away my life,” said Bulbasaur. “Whether I lie or not, you have needlessly damned yourself, Corphish.”

“I know I am not dishonest.”

“It is people like you who are tricked and swindled.”

“Oh, Corphish, do not make Bulbasaur die. Squirtle could not live without him,” said Bidoof.

Then, inspiration struck Corphish, He took out the letter which he had written to Bidoof. “This is your greatest proof, yes? Squirtle, forget your lunacy, for I tell you this paper has been forged. The handwriting here is not mine.”

“Swear it,” said Bulbasaur.

“I swear,” said Corphish.

“You have condemned yourself a second time,” said Squirtle.

Corphish ignored him. He searched for a pen and paper to demonstrate with, and in his thoughtless haste, snatched Bidoof’s journal, and he tore out the last pages.

“What have you done! Defiler, both of love and of sentimental possessions,” said Squirtle. “Your screaming audacity to touch and destroy what is not yours and now you invade Bidoof’s most valuable thing. This will not stand!”

“If life is so cruel then I do not want to live,” said Bidoof.

Squirtle advanced with deathly vengeance, teeth bared and snarling. Weeks and months of misery all because of Corphish, his lover, life, and future taken from him, and all his burnt-up anger and all the bitter exhaustion carried upon the tips of his claws and Corphish would feel them driven into his body. To crack him apart, piece by piece and dig out his supple flesh through jagged holes, all who hurt Bidoof would contend with Squirtle, explorer, conqueror, temporal champion. As he prepared to slash Corphish, Bulbasaur restrained him, tied one of his two vines around his neck with asphyxiating force and used the other one to knock out his knees so that Squirtle fell to the ground and was bound kneeling on the floor. Squirtle thrashed but did not cut the vines. He writhed with dire need to defend what had already been broken, but he could hurt Bulbasaur neither. Corphish backed himself into the wall and froze, he eyed the two back and forth. 

“Be stupid and I will unleash him,” said Bulbasaur. “Although I may need to do so regardless, you have sworn your life upon a falsehood.”

Corphish suddenly seemed to think better of himself and was desirous of an alternative. But nothing else could be done and the necessity of the situation set him into speedy motion. He took the pen and shakily copied out the letter.

“I n-need both of you to copy this letter too,” said Corphish.

“Squirtle cannot do that,” said Bulbasaur.

“Then you do at least!” Corphish’s voice leaped with riotous fear. 

Bulasaur said, “This is only for a moment, dear.” From his bulb he deployed three hard and shiny seed corns, they sprouted as soon as they hit the dirt and grew with incredulous swiftness into strong thorny vines. The roots traced their way back to Bulbasaur while the tips of the plants licked at Squirtle’s ankles, slithered up his legs around his shell and with all their long and narrow thorns positioned atop the soft parts of his body the vines bit down, bit deep, and pulled themselves taut weighted ropes – Squirtle bleed, dozens of needles impaled through him, shiny red paint pooling and dripping from little holes in his body. Drip, drip, drip. At this time, Bidoof  took a chance to glance at the commotion. He was hysterical, he dashed over and clawed and gnawed at the atrocities to free Squirtle, or at least give him enough room to breathe. Squirtle was suffocating within the tangle, although his craze prevented him from feeling it – because a proper leech-seed was meant to smother smother and ingest and kill to revitalize its parent. Once attached, they would not let go and often left behind dry and leathery corpses.

“You’re killing him,” cried Corphish.”

“You needed me to write,” Bulbasaur said. “Now hand it over before he dies.”

Corphish passed Bulbasaur the paper and pen and then began removing Bidoof from the vines for Bidoof was cutting himself on the thorns. Bulbasaur scrawled out a copy of the letter, and for many long moments  there was chaos around the turtle trapped within his spiked cast. Squirtle choked down air and bile, his fight and life draining from him at equal rate, Bulbasaur finished and he flung the materials back at Corphish – they fell upon the ground but Bulbasaur did not care and he raced up to the the still-exposed seeds which were attempting to burrow down for protection, and he bit them in half and killed them: first, second, third. As they fleetingly grew, the plants fleetingly withered, died, and became fragile. Squirtle broke out and collapsed upon the decaying stems, sputtering, bleeding, bleeding a little from many places. He was alive and the cuts would not keep him down for too many days, but he was weak and defeated. Not afraid, but no longer angry either, there was no more strength to do much but lay there. 

Bidoof leapt upon Squirtle and embraced him as if the world would shatter if he died, as if Squirtle had never hurt him. Bulbasaur glared at Corphish, Corphish swallowed hard. But at least Squirtle was now in a state capable of receiving his reason, if only half-conscious.

“Look Squirtle, please. Here is the original, here is my copy, here is Bulbasaur’s copy. The letter was not written by me,” said Corphish. “It was not written by anyone here, three different hands have produced three different papers. Someone is using my name with ill intent, but know that neither I nor Bidoof are to blame.”

Squirtle examined the papers held up to him and weakly whispered., “isn’t that Bulbasaur’s writing on two of them?”

Corphish took another look thinking that perhaps he and Bulbasaur wrote similarly. Bulbasaur’s writing was very bold with the ink, his own was not. The note from yesterday also had heavy lines, it could not be denied that the two copies were similar. The same, perhaps. They were, they could substitute each other with little difference. They were from the same person. “What? Bulbasaur, explain this!”

“You want me to explain coincidence?”

“This must be a prank,” said Corphish.

“What prank ends in Squirtle bleeding in a puddle,” said Bulbasaur.

“You have put words into my mouth, you fabricated an artifact and look at what’s become of it.”

“Corphish, you ruinous crab! Things were healing last night, all would be fine and then you dragged us back,”

“Then all this is your fault!”

“And you have made it worse.”

“Why did you do this to begin with?” Corphish’s voice growled with resentment.

“Everybody knows that Squirtle will only choose one to love,” said Bulbasaur. “He chose Bidoof and not me, he’s left me unfulfilled for all this time, if only he knew he would be just as happy with me. And you know what, he learned that very thing last night, he began to see that I and Bidoof are equal, and he saw that his choice of Bidoof has left me with nothing.”

“And so you are allowed to commit this crime?”

“There is no crime, only persuasion and opportunity. If ever there was a crime it would be that I am bound to forever pursue Squirtle’s love, that there is only one Squirtle and two of us, that Bidoof loves him as well.”

“Then you never saw Bidoof cheat.”

“I wouldn’t if I stalked him for a decade, Bidoof would never. But Squirtle does not need to know that, he only needs to believe. Once Squirtle leaves Bidoof, I will be his light, just as warm or even warmer than Bidoof.”

 Corphish was speechless.

“Bulbasaur sighed. “Squirtle, all because of you, and yet you are not to blame. So, will you choose? Would you even consider me after this? But you and I know that time heals all, even this, I hope.
You are already familiar with Bidoof’s affections, and you have only begun to feel mine. Yet, you are a monster to him, and I am a monster to you.”

“Do not listen to him,” said Bidoof. “These scars will fade. My love is here for you, it always has been and it still is. Please, we were happy, we can be happy again.”

“I ask you to forgive me this transgression too, even if you do not love me,” said Bulbasaur. “I see now that I could never pry you away from Bidoof on my own, but now we stand as equal choices. If you come with me, I will make you the happiest pokemon ever, and you too would make me the same but in second place after you.”

Squirtle, bleeding, feverish, fading into sleep, within the embrace of Bidoof and with promise of Bulbasaur’s everlasting devotion – Squirtle retreated into his shell and cried.

Squirtle and Bidoof ambled through Treasure Town, with nice weather for once. The guild’s expedition would soon be upon them and both of them had their adventuring gear packed – Bidoof was waiting to be assigned a partner (hopefully Squirtle himself) and Squirtle would carry the equipment for himself and Bulbasaur, his teammate. Squirtle’s cuts were just about done mending but those days lingered fresh in all of their minds. Time had passed and they all had gotten to think.

  “How is Bulbasaur these days,” asked Bidoof.

“Alright, considering the circumstances. Worse than us, but surviving,” said Squirtle. “He’s not eating, he’s becoming a stranger in our own home.”

“Do you still sleep together?”

“I do let him, yes. He insists on it every night.” 

“You shouldn’t let him.”

“I mean, you let me back. You shouldn’t really have done that either.”

“You’re ‘sleeping’ with another guy, Squirtle. That sounds, I don’t know, a bit like cheating.”

Squirtle froze.

Bidoof looked at him. Bidoof giggled. “I’m just playing with you. I don’t mind, I’m a bit jealous but it’s fine. It’s not typical, but I don’t suppose any of us can think of each other ‘typically’ for a while.”

“That’s a dangerous joke at this time…”

“Ehehe, I’m sorry, you’re right.” Bidoof had a crude sense of humor – and although Squirtle did not feel like laughing, it was indeed rather funny and it would probably send him into a fit of snickering later. “Do you forgive him though,” said Bidoof.

“No, not yet.”

“But after some time.”

“Then I must. It’s impossible to live with him if I hate him, and even if I do – even when I did last week – something keeps us together. If we are together in proximity or loyalty then it is both stupid to hold such a grudge. Time is destined to heal, and once it is well healed then indignance becomes choler.”

“Would you call me stupid if I hated him?”

“Never again. But you don’t, do you.”

“No,” said Bidoof. “I think, if I am willing to let you back in then I must forgive him too. As long as he doesn’t repeat this performance.”

“I don’t think he will. He is still a good pokemon, he is still a hero. Such a shame that he must mar his record so.”

“But it is done and cannot be undone,”said Bidoof. “Then, will you leave him behind?”

“I have been thinking, and I propose this to you,” said Squirtle. “Perhaps he could join us one day? I have enough love to share without deficiency of devotion to either of two or both at once, this arrangement could satisfy us all.”

“It wouldn’t be ‘wise’, but neither was it wise for me to take you back. But I myself do not love Bulbasaur. Yes, I admire him for he is very admirable, but it is not love in our way.”

“Is that no?”

“Erm, perhaps a tentative ‘yes’. We can try, I cannot guarantee, but I cannot be stubborn about a good idea.”

“I’m happy to hear that! But I don’t think we’ll try for a while,” said Squirtle. “Not until we’re a little farther from it all, perhaps when we all calm some more.”

“Does Bulbasaur want this?”

“I will ask, but something tells me he won’t object.”

And so, for the rest of the day, the two of them had nowhere to go, nothing to do. 

Squirtle asked, “what do you want for lunch?”