Pokémon Under a Bed of Clover

[Starlight Aurate]

Hello everyone! This is a one-shot I made for a Kanto-themed contest way back when on another forum. It sat around for a few years but I finally got around to editing it and putting it out. It was inspired by events in my own life and eventually morphed into a storyline that a lot of fans have theorized from RBY (you'll probably guess as soon as you read it).

I hope you enjoy!


Under a Bed of Clover


The grass swayed beneath the gentle breeze that softly kissed his cheeks. He stared down at the slate-grey headstone, hands in his pockets, hunched slightly forward. Little shamrocks sprouted around the stone and formed a springy bed.

He told himself that he would be fine. After all, Raticate had been gone for three years. He had long since accepted that fact—he had moved on, had broken out of the shell and started acting normal again. People stopped giving him pitying glances and stopped trying to speak in soothing voices all the time. Not that he missed it—more than anything, he hated the pity. He knew they were trying to help, but all they were doing was bringing back all the hurt and pain and left him feeling more upset than he was to begin with.

He sniffled.

It took a few months, but people gradually forgot about it and treated him like they always had—until the Tower was converted. Once the announcement that the place of Raticate’s grave, Pokemon Tower, was to be converted into a radio tower was made, people came up to him and asked him what he thought or how he felt. Some people grew angry, saying how unfair Lavender Town’s city council was acting and that they had no respect for the families of those who had passed away.

But he knew it wasn’t whole-hearted. Even though people appeared indignant before him, he heard others excitedly talking about how it would make internet service so much better and help the town grow.

Closing his eyes, he grimaced at the thought. While he had not talked about it to anyone, he was furious at hearing that Raticate’s body would be dug up, carried away, and re-buried in a new house near the entrance to Lavender Town. He saw plans for the small house while it was still in the developing stage and looked at the plot of land it was to be built on. It was far too small. Pokemon Tower held thousands of graves—there was no way that they would all fit into that tiny plot of land. And they couldn’t dig under the earth to make catacombs, since Lavender Town was so close to the harbor. They would hit water.

He remembered his family vacationing at Lavender Town’s harbor as he grew up. He would bathe in the sun with Raticate sitting on his lap; he and his sister often raced along the shoreline while their Pokemon trailed along behind them. There were so many happy memories—it was the perfect place for Raticate to be laid to rest.

He remembered seeing news of the Pokemon Tower conversion in the Celadon Sentinel and hearing people excitedly chat about it. Both in reviews from the newspaper and his classmates’ voices, people were excited that the town would no longer be known for just the Tower; that the “spooky, grim atmosphere pervading the town” would be replaced with something to symbolize the advancement of society.

“Lavender Town will finally be rid of the stigma of being known for its dead. It would advance and catch up with the rest of Kanto and join the new world as it accelerated into the digital age.”

He figured that same paper was still lying trampled in the mud he left it in. Nothing had ever made his face burn so much as seeing those written words in that paper, in seeing the smiling mayor’s face proudly proclaim the changes coming to the city. All it did for him was confirm that the world held no value for what was no longer alive.

In the end, the city council’s decision was unanimous. Pokemon Tower was gone by the end of the month.

It was too much. As soon as the announcement was made, he vouched to take Raticate’s body back and bury him elsewhere. He figured that the only way to accommodate so many bodies in such a small space would be mass cremation, and he refused to allow that to happen to his best friend.

He glanced up. The branches of the maple trees hung low, their browning leaves blocking out much of the sunlight. The rocky slopes rose steeply up not too far in the distance, and the tall grass moved back-and-forth with the wind. He closed his eyes. Raticate would have loved it here. When he looked into the depths of the trees, he could easily imagine his friend sniffing at the trees’ roots or else scampering about playfully.

The area reminded him of a place just outside Rock Tunnel where he used to play with Raticate all the time—even more when he was a little Rattata. The trees were difficult for his seven-year-old self to climb, but Rattata loved to play hide-and-seek, probably because he could always sniff out his owner in under a minute. Even when they were tired, they could just lie down together beneath the branches of the trees, Rattata’s warm weight pressing down on his stomach.

He smiled at the memory, and with the smile came more pain. He looked up, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

It didn’t work.

They welled up until his lids couldn’t hold anymore and soon they were running down his cheeks. Wiping them away, he sniffed and tried to regain his composure. Raticate had been gone for three years—it was time to get over it and move on.

He stopped wiping his face and let out a choked sob.

“Why did you die?”

No answer came from the grave, but he already knew the answer in his heart.

Maybe that was why he never felt that Raticate was “taken” from him; he never felt angry at whatever gods might be out there for removing the Pokemon from his happy life. Raticate chose to die—because he wanted others to live.

He scrunched his eyes shut as his heart panged. The breeze blew again, chillier this time. Pulling his jacket in tighter around him, the scene played out before his eyes.

“Keep at it, Raticate!” he shouted as the Pokemon rapidly dug holes, diving in and out of the dirt as if it was water. “I want you to dig so fast that I can’t see you!”

Raticate emerged from the hole and stopped moving. His ears stood straight up and his nose twitched. He chittered—there was something very large nearby, and several people too. It sounded like they were fighting.

“Fighting? Like in a Pokemon battle? Maybe there are trainers around here we can challenge! You could use more fighting experience.”

Raticate cocked his head. It sounded different from usual Pokemon battles. Several different people shouted and something was crying out. It sounded distressed!

“Hmm, maybe we should get out of here—I don’t want to get caught up in someone else’s mess.”

Raticate’s ears twitched and he chittered again. The sounds were growing louder—and at this point, his owner could hear them too. It was a loud, sort of barking sound, and thundering footprints—

Raticate lunged at his owner and tackled him to the ground as an Arcanine burst through the tall grass. Several patches of its fur were singed, exposing torn-up skin. It howled as a long, metal dart plunged into its hind leg. A group of men and women clad in black ran up to it, each of them holding a long metal baton. The men and women started beating the Fire-type with their batons, and the Arcanine howled again as electric currents ran through the batons and into its body.

A woman turned around and saw Raticate crouched on top of his owner.

“Hey!” she shouted. “What are you doing here? This is a Team Rocket-only zone! You can’t watch!”

Her baton sparked with electricity.

His heart clenched. He pushed Raticate off of him and struggled to his feet. Raticate was trying to get around him—he shoved and kicked the Pokemon away—

“Raticate, get out of here! We need to—AHHH!”

The baton only touched his arm for a second, but that second lasted forever. Electricity surged through his body, burning every single vein, seizing his heart, contracting all of his muscles. He had no control over his body. He fell to the ground and screamed—it was all he could do.

The electric surge stopped and he lay on the ground gasping. He looked over—and he wished he had been hit with the baton again.

Raticate lunged at the grunt who shocked him, biting and scratching her face. When she screamed, many of her teammates came over and all of them hit Raticate with their shock batons.

Raticate’s screams were horrible.

He struggled to his feet, his eyes locked on his Pokemon as his body lit up from the multiple shock weapons. His muscles barely worked—but they had to—he needed to get Raticate out of there—

With the Rocket grunts distracted, the Arcanine fought off the others and released several bursts of flame. Some Team Rocket members screamed as flames enveloped them; others were trampled underfoot; still others fell victim to the Arcanine’s fangs.

Every single Team Rocket member was focused on the Fire-type. Raticate lay on the ground, burned, forgotten. His owner scooped him up—they needed to get to a Pokemon Center. Once they reached it and the Chanseys looked after him, Raticate would be all right.

The journey to the Pokemon Center took so long—he didn’t know how much time it took, but the entire time, his heart pounded with anxiety. The acrid smell of Raticate’s singed fur filled his nostrils. His head pounded. His heart raced. His chest hurt so badly that he just wanted to stop—but he kept going—he had to—or else…

Once he got to the Pokemon Center, he handed Raticate to the nurse and sat down on a chair in the lobby.

That wait was even worse. He stared at the burn mark on his arm from the grunt’s shock baton. It had been so painful. And Raticate had taken so many of them…

He knew he should call his family. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone until the nurse came back with Raticate. He didn’t want to be told that he was arrogant, reckless, or irresponsible.

He just wanted Raticate to be okay.

“Excuse me. You’re the Raticate’s owner, aren’t you?”

He looked up at the nurse standing before him.

He nodded.

“Will you come with me, please? I have an update on your Pokemon.”

He followed the nurse through the lobby into a small room on the side.

“Sit down, please.”

He took a seat. She did likewise. He stared at her. She gazed at him kindly.

“Your Raticate didn’t make it.”

He stared.

He went numb.

He didn’t make it.

He was gone.

The reality that Raticate, who had been around for as long as he could remember and whom he had expected to be with for the rest of his life, was gone hit him.

He scrunched his eyes up. Tears fell. More tears fell. They fell quickly. His throat closed. His chest convulsed.

Raticate couldn’t be gone—he had lived through so much. He used to play with Squirtle in the pond behind their family’s house. He fought so many battles—against wild Nidoran and Pidgeys, against other trainers’ Charmanders and Pikachus. Raticate never gave up. His older sister would sit on their family’s living room couch and groom Rattata while softly singing to him. His parents would let Rattata climb into bed with him. They would pet him while reading the morning newspaper. They gave him food at every meal. They took him to vacation with them across Kanto.

On his tenth birthday, when he received his Pokemon Trainer’s license and set out to take on the Pokemon League challenge, Rattata was with him. He welcomed new Pokemon to the team. He fought alongside them. And when the journey of being a Pokemon trainer wore on him and was too much for him to bare, Raticate would come out of his Pokeball and always snuggle with his trainer. Raticate taught him that the effort it took to raise Pokemon was worth it.

And he was gone.

The autumn sun cast long, slanted shadows across the face of the tombstone. Fresh tears fell down his cheeks. He could still hear Raticate’s screams as multiple grunts shocked him with their weapons. He would rather have been hit with a shock baton again—he would rather have been hit with all of their shock batons, as Raticate was, because that couldn’t have been as painful as this. If he was electrocuted instead, then Raticate would still be alive…

He coughed.

After Raticate passed, people asked him how he felt. Was he angry? Did he want revenge? Sure he did—at first. But the anger didn’t last. He never went after Team Rocket. Raticate didn’t die because he wanted to destroy a group of criminals; he died so that his owner could live. Hunting down Team Rocket and getting himself into more trouble would be a poor way to repay his Pokemon.

Though people tried to be nice to him, their words and sympathy only hurt him more. Every time they said, “I’m sorry,” all he could hear was, “He’s dead.” People told him that he should be grateful, that he should be proud that his friend was brave enough to put the lives of others before his own. And he was proud—but the pride and gratitude could not hold a candle to the overwhelming sorrow and emptiness that filled his heart for years.

He sighed. Though the words of others failed, the presence of those who loved him brought comfort. His older sister would sit with him on the couch, her arms wrapped around him as he sobbed into her shoulder late at night. His parents were there for him—overwhelmingly thankful that he was alive and mostly unhurt. His family was truly sorry that Raticate was gone. They never brought it up to him. They were there for him, letting him cry out his heartbreak and pain until his throat had gone hoarse and his eyes ran dry.

The last of the sun’s rays cast dappled shadows over the shamrocks sprouting before the tombstone. He raised his eyes and saw the orange disc sinking behind the craggy mountains and knew it was time to head home. The sight was beautiful—it was wonderful, but also painful. His heart was full, but he was so empty inside. He smiled; he was grateful to see such amazing views, and he was joyful—but there was suffering in his joy.

He shook his head. People told him there would come a day when everything made sense and he could finally joke about Raticate—about ten years after the incident had gone. As it was, everything was too fresh to sit all right.

He looked down at the grave.

“I’ll see you again soon.”

With the last of the fading sunlight, he trotted through the trees onto the worn footpath, leaving Raticate under a bed of clover.

 

[kintsugi]

Hi! I stumbled upon this because the title reminded me of a running joke some friends and I have, and this was a lot of fun! Well, not like, fun, but I'm super-here for portrayals of people working through loss and grief in a fanfic lens. I liked how you laid out unnamed rival's (Blue? Gary?) thoughts here, his wrestling with the feeling of being pitied, the pressure to put things up and Get Over It, all wrapped up in a world that's clearly moving on. I think the idea of having Lavender Town choosing to dig up the gravesites is a really clever way of contrasting this huge, life-altering event for Rival and Raticate with mundane things like board hearings and better internet connection -- grief can be alienating, and it can often feel like no one else really Understands what you do.

I also like how this doesn't end with an immediate catharsis or anything. Rival will come back, and think more things, and slowly learn to heal. It's a long process and there isn't a magic scene that will make everything right for him. I thought that was realistic as well, and in general I liked how you handled the gambit of emotions that he feels thinking through all of these things.

Not that he missed it—more than anything, he hated the pity. He knew they were trying to help, but all they were doing was bringing back all the hurt and pain and left him feeling more upset than he was to begin with.

I think the hating of attempts to comfort was a really interesting angle and it came up a lot from these faceless strangers -- people who don't really seem to know Rival and aren't helping, even though they mean well. At the end you talk about how he cries with his family, how they're there for him, and I find myself wishing that there was some focus on that as well. For the most part this is a very lonely story for Rival -- he's alone at the grave, Raticate is gone, and also no one in the entire world can offer him the comfort that he needs -- so I wonder if having maybe one person who can understand his situation and help him come to a more positive place would help a lot. I found myself wanting to know more about what Daisy told him on that couch, how his parents brought him comfort when these other people failed, maybe how the rest of Rival's pokemon feel about losing a teammate and a friend as well. You do a really good job of sketching the internal monologues that get Rival to this point, but I think it needs something to give me a more concrete idea of the external forces that help him get here as well.

Even though people appeared indignant before him, he heard others excitedly talking about how it would make internet service so much better and help the town grow.

Again, I really liked this idea as a driving factor/cause for the story! The world moves on and often, unintentionally, forces us to come to grips with things before we really want to, to dig up things that we thought we'd buried. And I don't necessarily think anyone is wrong or right here, but I can definitely empathize with the conflict that it causes for everyone. I really thought this helped bring your story together.

He remembered seeing news of the Pokemon Tower conversion in the Celadon Sentinel and hearing people excitedly chat about it. Both in reviews from the newspaper and his classmates’ voices, people were excited that the town would no longer be known for just the Tower; that the “spooky, grim atmosphere pervading the town” would be replaced with something to symbolize the advancement of society.

“Lavender Town will finally be rid of the stigma of being known for its dead. It would advance and catch up with the rest of Kanto and join the new world as it accelerated into the digital age.”

I think the "Lavender Town will finally be rid of the stigma [...]" line could be italicized or something. At first I didn't realize that this wasn't dialogue that was happening in the moment, and I thought there was a new character or Rival was saying something out loud -- but I think it's supposed to be a newspaper review?

"stigma of being known for its dead", oof, nice job driving home the conflict here

He smiled at the memory, and with the smile came more pain. He looked up, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

It didn’t work.

To me this line felt too forced, too sad. The single-sentence paragraph, the smile, the pain, the tears falling -- these are all images that work very well but I think need to be used a bit more sparingly. You sketch out the emotional conflict in broad strokes around the story, and I felt like lines like this were almost too ham-fisted -- I was already very invested in Rival by the time I got here, so these lines feel like overkill -- Evanescence when you want something a bit softer, I think.

“Hmm, maybe we should get out of here—I don’t want to get caught up in someone else’s mess.”

Wow! Not the line I expected from the protagonist at all, but I like how you made this Raticate's choice, not Rival's.

A group of men and women clad in black ran up to it, each of them holding a long metal baton. The men and women started beating the Fire-type with their batons, and the Arcanine howled again as electric currents ran through the batons and into its body.

Oof. Brutal. I find myself wishing I had a better metric for how pokemon battles normally go -- if this is worse than being hit by a Thunderbolt, if maybe Rival can recognize this as being particularly more brutal somehow. I've always found it interesting how people have a visceral reaction to reading about scenes like this, but if we replaced the shock-batons with Pikachu it sort of becomes the anime.

“Your Raticate didn’t make it.”

This feels a bit terse for a nurse -- both vets and doctors/nurses receive extensive training about how to break the news of a dead loved one to a family. Even something like "He tuned out the rest of her words" or something would help convey that she's trying to offer him more comfort, but he can't hear it, and would also start our boy strong on the train of getting offered comfort that falls on deaf ears!

Raticate couldn’t be gone—he had lived through so much. He used to play with Squirtle in the pond behind their family’s house. He fought so many battles—against wild Nidoran and Pidgeys, against other trainers’ Charmanders and Pikachus. Raticate never gave up. His older sister would sit on their family’s living room couch and groom Rattata while softly singing to him. His parents would let Rattata climb into bed with him. They would pet him while reading the morning newspaper. They gave him food at every meal. They took him to vacation with them across Kanto.

I really liked this bit and it helped me nail down the one thing I wish we got more of -- I wanted a better feel for Raticate as a character. Not just how Rival sees them and what they can do for Rival, but just a general sense of who Raticate is. A lot of these contributions are about how Raticate is useful/provides things for Rival -- he fights, he's good for pets, he's good for comfort -- I don't really get the feeling of him as a character. Does he sometimes get over-aggressive when asking for pets? Does he have a favorite snack that he'll go out of his way to get? Did evolving from a Rattata make him more confident, or did he get bigger and clumsier? The traits that you list out for Raticate are things I think any Raticate could really do (something that I think ends up being highlighted by his lack of name)-- but Rival isn't mourning just any raticate, he's mourning Raticate. But to sell us on that grief I think you need to sell us more on Raticate, the character, and who he is outside of what he does for Rival.

To me the most powerful glimpse into Raticate's character is when he willingly chooses to investigate the screaming Arcanine because he feels bad for someone in pain. Even though Rival, who is arguably safer in this situation, still feels the need to run. That to me was probably the most emotionally compelling part of the story, and I think this bit would help from having a more personalized understanding of Raticate in his quieter, non-heroic moments as well. He died saving someone but what did he live for, you know? Both of those things are who he was.

After Raticate passed, people asked him how he felt. Was he angry? Did he want revenge? Sure he did—at first. But the anger didn’t last. He never went after Team Rocket. Raticate didn’t die because he wanted to destroy a group of criminals; he died so that his owner could live. Hunting down Team Rocket and getting himself into more trouble would be a poor way to repay his Pokemon.

I thought this was interesting too -- punitive justice is bad, but bad people should be prevented from harming anyone else. It's a harsh dichotomy and sometimes we aren't ready to shoulder that burden, though. Is this in the same canon where Player takes on that responsibility instead? Does Rival have thoughts about it?

With the last of the fading sunlight, he trotted through the trees onto the worn footpath, leaving Raticate under a bed of clover.

"Trotted" feels a bit too casual and rushed for me -- it evokes feelings of a light jog, happiness, in a slight but eager hurry to get somewhere else -- which I don't quite thing was the emotion you wanted here.

 

[Flaze]

Okay, so it wasn't too clear for me whether your protagonist for this was Blue or not, considering you were talking about the ever so infamous Raticate theory. Since neither the story nor you fully confirmed it, I'll refrain from using that tag to refer to him.

So immediately what I liked most about your story was actually the way in which your style switches in accordance with the emotional weight of the scene. It feels like that's a pretty obvious thing to praise, but you manage to seamlessly weave that slow, introspective character exploration with the quick and powerful weight of the protagonist's memories. It makes sense that he would try and remember the happy moments in as much detail as possible while his memory of the event that led to raticate's death is quick, sparse, almost as if he's trying to forget it or maybe because it just went by so quickly even he couldn't process the sequence of events properly.

Outside of that, I really liked the way you explored the themes of death, grief and the passage of times. Ironically those are some of my favorite themes to see in stories, but you give them an interesting take. Whereas most stories would focus on how one has to accept that things will change and time will pass...that isn't so easy when it comes to dealing with death, and you emphasize that, while also adding some spicy worldbuilding, by showing the ways in which Lavender Town's (or rather its politicians) desires clash with those that have suffered loss and relied on the tower as a place to keep their death. It really makes you think on just what people are leaving behind when they try to progress or evolve constantly.

Your descriptions of the protagonist's relationship with his pokemon and his memories also do a good job of getting us in his mindset and showing his humanity, you're able to give us a good range of emotions from him and your prose definitely helps in not just setting the mood but also keeping it and hooking the reader on it as well.

Probably not a super detailed review or anything, but I really digged this and I hope to read more stuff from you soon.

 

[Starlight Aurate]

Hello! I am sorry for my lateness, kintsugi, but since you left such a lovely review I wanted to reply more fully than just leaving a heart reaction to your post.

Hi! I stumbled upon this because the title reminded me of a running joke some friends and I have, and this was a lot of fun! Well, not like, fun, but I'm super-here for portrayals of people working through loss and grief in a fanfic lens. I liked how you laid out unnamed rival's (Blue? Gary?) thoughts here, his wrestling with the feeling of being pitied, the pressure to put things up and Get Over It, all wrapped up in a world that's clearly moving on. I think the idea of having Lavender Town choosing to dig up the gravesites is a really clever way of contrasting this huge, life-altering event for Rival and Raticate with mundane things like board hearings and better internet connection -- grief can be alienating, and it can often feel like no one else really Understands what you do.

I also like how this doesn't end with an immediate catharsis or anything. Rival will come back, and think more things, and slowly learn to heal. It's a long process and there isn't a magic scene that will make everything right for him. I thought that was realistic as well, and in general I liked how you handled the gambit of emotions that he feels thinking through all of these things.

Thank you for your kind words and affirmations! When I started writing this fic, I didn't intend it to be Blue/Gary mourning their Pokemon--it was supposed to be a random person and their random Raticate who had a run-in with Team Rocket. But as I wrote, it just kinda.... morphed into that, if that makes sense? And I felt like mentioning the narrator's name would have changed the overall feel/flow, so I didn't do that either. I haven't run into anyone saying it did NOT work, so I guess it went all right?

Ha, I thought it was a bit disrespectful (to say the least) for Lavender Town to replace the Pokemon Tower in GSC with a radio tower of all things. Like where was the respect for the dead?! What were they thinking??

I think the hating of attempts to comfort was a really interesting angle and it came up a lot from these faceless strangers -- people who don't really seem to know Rival and aren't helping, even though they mean well. At the end you talk about how he cries with his family, how they're there for him, and I find myself wishing that there was some focus on that as well. For the most part this is a very lonely story for Rival -- he's alone at the grave, Raticate is gone, and also no one in the entire world can offer him the comfort that he needs -- so I wonder if having maybe one person who can understand his situation and help him come to a more positive place would help a lot. I found myself wanting to know more about what Daisy told him on that couch, how his parents brought him comfort when these other people failed, maybe how the rest of Rival's pokemon feel about losing a teammate and a friend as well. You do a really good job of sketching the internal monologues that get Rival to this point, but I think it needs something to give me a more concrete idea of the external forces that help him get here as well.

Thank you for bringing these up! These are all really helpful suggestions. I don't know if the story would have dragged on too much if I added those, but it's good to know they would have been helpful.

Again, I really liked this idea as a driving factor/cause for the story! The world moves on and often, unintentionally, forces us to come to grips with things before we really want to, to dig up things that we thought we'd buried. And I don't necessarily think anyone is wrong or right here, but I can definitely empathize with the conflict that it causes for everyone. I really thought this helped bring your story together.

I feel like the real world moves way faster than human emotions do. Everyone around the narrator would have quickly moved on from Raticate passing away, but by the time they've mostly forgotten about it, it still feels fresh to him.

I think the "Lavender Town will finally be rid of the stigma [...]" line could be italicized or something. At first I didn't realize that this wasn't dialogue that was happening in the moment, and I thought there was a new character or Rival was saying something out loud -- but I think it's supposed to be a newspaper review?

"stigma of being known for its dead", oof, nice job driving home the conflict here

Ah, fair enough. Yep, it's supposed to be a newspaper review. I'll go add that!

And yep. I think that, while yes, death is tragic, the modern world treats it like it's a bad thing to be avoided. But in reality we're all going to have to face it eventually.

To me this line felt too forced, too sad. The single-sentence paragraph, the smile, the pain, the tears falling -- these are all images that work very well but I think need to be used a bit more sparingly. You sketch out the emotional conflict in broad strokes around the story, and I felt like lines like this were almost too ham-fisted -- I was already very invested in Rival by the time I got here, so these lines feel like overkill -- Evanescence when you want something a bit softer, I think.

I agree with this here. Good catch!

Oof. Brutal. I find myself wishing I had a better metric for how pokemon battles normally go -- if this is worse than being hit by a Thunderbolt, if maybe Rival can recognize this as being particularly more brutal somehow. I've always found it interesting how people have a visceral reaction to reading about scenes like this, but if we replaced the shock-batons with Pikachu it sort of becomes the anime.

I was inspired by the episode of Pokemon Origins where a Rocket Grunt uses some sort of electric device to kill Cubone's mom. But yeah, I agree with you--I can never tell how dire a Pokemon's attack is considered across media since people portray it differently. But like, when I think of the attack "bite," it's not that strong in-game. But in real life, it's a monster with massive jaws chomping down on something and that seems terrifying.

This feels a bit terse for a nurse -- both vets and doctors/nurses receive extensive training about how to break the news of a dead loved one to a family. Even something like "He tuned out the rest of her words" or something would help convey that she's trying to offer him more comfort, but he can't hear it, and would also start our boy strong on the train of getting offered comfort that falls on deaf ears!

Oh, I didn't think about that. I've never gotten "the news" from professional people, so I didn't think about the fact that they're trained to talk about these things. Thank you for the suggestion! It was supposed to be that he essentially went deaf after hearing Raticate had passed; maybe I should add something about that.

I really liked this bit and it helped me nail down the one thing I wish we got more of -- I wanted a better feel for Raticate as a character. Not just how Rival sees them and what they can do for Rival, but just a general sense of who Raticate is. A lot of these contributions are about how Raticate is useful/provides things for Rival -- he fights, he's good for pets, he's good for comfort -- I don't really get the feeling of him as a character. Does he sometimes get over-aggressive when asking for pets? Does he have a favorite snack that he'll go out of his way to get? Did evolving from a Rattata make him more confident, or did he get bigger and clumsier? The traits that you list out for Raticate are things I think any Raticate could really do (something that I think ends up being highlighted by his lack of name)-- but Rival isn't mourning just any raticate, he's mourning Raticate. But to sell us on that grief I think you need to sell us more on Raticate, the character, and who he is outside of what he does for Rival.

To me the most powerful glimpse into Raticate's character is when he willingly chooses to investigate the screaming Arcanine because he feels bad for someone in pain. Even though Rival, who is arguably safer in this situation, still feels the need to run. That to me was probably the most emotionally compelling part of the story, and I think this bit would help from having a more personalized understanding of Raticate in his quieter, non-heroic moments as well. He died saving someone but what did he live for, you know? Both of those things are who he was.

Fair points, and thank you for the suggestions! I totally agree--this was also supposed to be about Raticate in life, not just in death, so focusing more on the person aspect of him would have fit with the theme better overall.

I thought this was interesting too -- punitive justice is bad, but bad people should be prevented from harming anyone else. It's a harsh dichotomy and sometimes we aren't ready to shoulder that burden, though. Is this in the same canon where Player takes on that responsibility instead? Does Rival have thoughts about it?

I find that same conflict in real life. I don't view it as whether or not people are ready to carry the responsibility of preventing harm, but sometimes realizing who's responsibility it is. And I don't think that, just because the narrator lost his Pokemon to Team Rocket, that makes him the one responsible for preventing their further crime. It's his choice to make but it's not one he necessarily has to do. The point of this line of thought was more to show that revenge will not fulfill or satisfy the loss of someone passing on; that he can't become fixated on how Raticate died, but accept the fact that Raticate died and grow from it.

"Trotted" feels a bit too casual and rushed for me -- it evokes feelings of a light jog, happiness, in a slight but eager hurry to get somewhere else -- which I don't quite thing was the emotion you wanted here.

Fair enough. Thank you so much again for this lovely review! I'm glad I was able to get the emotion across; it was very affirming :)

Okay, so it wasn't too clear for me whether your protagonist for this was Blue or not, considering you were talking about the ever so infamous Raticate theory. Since neither the story nor you fully confirmed it, I'll refrain from using that tag to refer to him.

So immediately what I liked most about your story was actually the way in which your style switches in accordance with the emotional weight of the scene. It feels like that's a pretty obvious thing to praise, but you manage to seamlessly weave that slow, introspective character exploration with the quick and powerful weight of the protagonist's memories. It makes sense that he would try and remember the happy moments in as much detail as possible while his memory of the event that led to raticate's death is quick, sparse, almost as if he's trying to forget it or maybe because it just went by so quickly even he couldn't process the sequence of events properly.

Hey, great to see you here! Thanks so much for dropping by. And I'm glad I got across the slowness of someone processing in real time vs. the quickness of thinking back to previous times; that's what I was going for.

Outside of that, I really liked the way you explored the themes of death, grief and the passage of times. Ironically those are some of my favorite themes to see in stories, but you give them an interesting take. Whereas most stories would focus on how one has to accept that things will change and time will pass...that isn't so easy when it comes to dealing with death, and you emphasize that, while also adding some spicy worldbuilding, by showing the ways in which Lavender Town's (or rather its politicians) desires clash with those that have suffered loss and relied on the tower as a place to keep their death. It really makes you think on just what people are leaving behind when they try to progress or evolve constantly.

Hah, yeah. I have strong thoughts/feelings about the way people and society view dying and how they treat their dead. As I said in my reply above, when the Pokemon Tower in Lavender Town in GSC was replaced by the Radio Tower, I was like "?!?!?!?!" And the way modern societies treat and handle the passing on of people is something that, I feel, is totally at odds with what those who grieve are going through.

Probably not a super detailed review or anything, but I really digged this and I hope to read more stuff from you soon.

No worries at all, and thanks so much again! I'm always grateful that someone stopped by to leave their thoughts :)

 

[K_S]

On an unrelated and frivilous note I’d nearly forgotten about the rivals Raticate in the original games and this bit of fandom lore related to it . This piece and it's protagonist made me think of it, peculiar where the mind goes at times isn't it?

I don’t know if “stigma” is so right a word, as death and dying and respecting that is such a cultural touchstone… If not a personal one, eventually. You can definitely see the politics in play with that one line and it gives an interesting snap shot of Lavender’s leadership at least, further evidenced by how quickly they acted.

It’s touching and very realistic how the Raticate’s trainer flips from recalled old joys, nostalgia, and grief. I’m curious as to who decided upon moving on then and there? Was it the trainer folding to societal pressures or his own internalized decision divorced (as much as it could be) from said pressures, or just a thing said due to feeling miserable in the throes of grief? As someone who has lost a few pets I recall that piece of advice being utterly infuriating. And considering how ‘mon in most ‘verse are as integrated as pets are in our society, nearly a part of the family for many cases, much less the quagmire of relationship that must exist for trainers who are on or were in their circuit for example… I imagine it complicates the grief and grieving significantly.

I’ll admit the flash back while forecasted if felt a bit jarring… too sudden perhaps. I can’t tell if it’s stylistic preference of mine or not speaking up so I won’t say this as a criticism, but the usual visual cues in italics and spacing made it look odd. Reading it aloud made the shortness leap to mind, but again, this might be a reflection of me responding to something I’m not used to seeing. The drop out of the flashback was also abrupt, but less so. I think the tie in to something physical made it bridge back into the present day narrative smoother.

About the flashback itself. Thank you for portraying Team Rocket as actual legit threats. It’s… rare in the works I’ve read on Ao3 and FFN. The scene of curiosity, turning into getting caught in the cross fire of something beyond either of their capabilities felt incredibly real. As did the mortal fall out. I’m wondering if things could have gone differently if Raticate had been recalled into his pokeball. Would it have worked as a suspended animation thing to buy more time or would it not have worked at all?

I’ve another question. While you refer to both ‘mon and trainer as conversing… it seems a bit muddled as to how that communication works. Can a trainer hear and understand their ‘mon and do others hear it as mere animal noises or is it a low level telepathy thing that’s universal when they’re in range? (I can only imagine the sheer racket of universal understanding would be if one were walking in a forest would be if that were the case) Or is it a coagulation of familiarity, body language, and tone that’s unique to trainer and ‘mon partner?

The line starting: “Raticate cocked his head…” is perhaps the most concrete span where trainer and ‘mon talk to one another. I also noticed this tactic was used in “Drowning” but I haven’t gotten far along in it to deduce the mechanics which could be an interesting plot/narrative device.

Thank you for posting this piece, it was a pleasant, if somber, read and I’ve not seen much like it.

Kasan

 

[Starlight Aurate]

On an unrelated and frivilous note I’d nearly forgotten about the rivals Raticate in the original games and this bit of fandom lore related to it . This piece and it's protagonist made me think of it, peculiar where the mind goes at times isn't it?

Hey there! Thanks so much for stopping by--it's nice to see the Review Tag move along.
And yes, haha. I originally just wrote this to have a piece explore grief of someone losing someone else they love, and when I chose a Ratticate, it kinda turned into the rival from the games.

I don’t know if “stigma” is so right a word, as death and dying and respecting that is such a cultural touchstone… If not a personal one, eventually. You can definitely see the politics in play with that one line and it gives an interesting snap shot of Lavender’s leadership at least, further evidenced by how quickly they acted.

Oh, for surer. It was meant to be a public/governmental response to Lavender Town being seen as creepy since it's only known for its Pokemon Tower.

It’s touching and very realistic how the Raticate’s trainer flips from recalled old joys, nostalgia, and grief. I’m curious as to who decided upon moving on then and there? Was it the trainer folding to societal pressures or his own internalized decision divorced (as much as it could be) from said pressures, or just a thing said due to feeling miserable in the throes of grief? As someone who has lost a few pets I recall that piece of advice being utterly infuriating. And considering how ‘mon in most ‘verse are as integrated as pets are in our society, nearly a part of the family for many cases, much less the quagmire of relationship that must exist for trainers who are on or were in their circuit for example… I imagine it complicates the grief and grieving significantly.

I actually had losing a sibling/family member/friend in mind when I wrote this, rather than losing a pet. Losing pets is definitely hard and sad, but in my experience, losing people is so much worse. I tried to equate that here, since I tend to think that Pokemon are more of companions/friends to their trainers than pets.

I’ll admit the flash back while forecasted if felt a bit jarring… too sudden perhaps. I can’t tell if it’s stylistic preference of mine or not speaking up so I won’t say this as a criticism, but the usual visual cues in italics and spacing made it look odd. Reading it aloud made the shortness leap to mind, but again, this might be a reflection of me responding to something I’m not used to seeing. The drop out of the flashback was also abrupt, but less so. I think the tie in to something physical made it bridge back into the present day narrative smoother.

Thanks for the advice! I made it a flashback since I was told that would work better than just having little snippets remembered (which is what I did the firrst time I wrote this), but it's helpful to know it doesn't necessarily work for everyone.

About the flashback itself. Thank you for portraying Team Rocket as actual legit threats. It’s… rare in the works I’ve read on Ao3 and FFN. The scene of curiosity, turning into getting caught in the cross fire of something beyond either of their capabilities felt incredibly real. As did the mortal fall out. I’m wondering if things could have gone differently if Raticate had been recalled into his pokeball. Would it have worked as a suspended animation thing to buy more time or would it not have worked at all?

I find having the evil teams as legitimate threats is more interesting, in my opinion. I'm glad you liked it! As for the questions--perhaps things might have gone differently! I thought that, having just been stunned as he was, the rival would have been too incapacitated to make that decision in the heat of things.

I’ve another question. While you refer to both ‘mon and trainer as conversing… it seems a bit muddled as to how that communication works. Can a trainer hear and understand their ‘mon and do others hear it as mere animal noises or is it a low level telepathy thing that’s universal when they’re in range? (I can only imagine the sheer racket of universal understanding would be if one were walking in a forest would be if that were the case) Or is it a coagulation of familiarity, body language, and tone that’s unique to trainer and ‘mon partner?

The line starting: “Raticate cocked his head…” is perhaps the most concrete span where trainer and ‘mon talk to one another. I also noticed this tactic was used in “Drowning” but I haven’t gotten far along in it to deduce the mechanics which could be an interesting plot/narrative device.

It's supposed to be the latter--the familiarity, body language, and tone that the Pokemon and trainer get across to each other as they spend more time together. I... realize I never do a good job of explicitly spelling it out. It's by far the biggest critical comment I've received on reviews, particularly for Drowning. I definitely need to keep it in mind when writing more, so thank you vey much for pointing this out!

Thank you for posting this piece, it was a pleasant, if somber, read and I’ve not seen much like it.

Kasan

Of course! I'm really glad you liked it, and I appreciate you stopping by!

 

[Adamhuarts]

I decided to do some reading and happened to stumble upon this while trying to pick back up on Drowning.

This was quite a sad one shot all things considered. I'm not entirely sure who the protagonist was, but I'm guessing it's Blur/the rival from the first Gen games? I vaguely recall all the fan theories about how you, the player, killed his raticate because at some point we never see the pokemon on his team again after a certain battle. I had the impression that's what happened here, so I was surprised to find out that a chance encounter with Team Rocket is what led to it in the end.

Tbh I'm not entirely sure what to feel about about how Raticate died as it was a completely avoidable situation. I also wonder why Blue (?) didn't just withdraw him into his pokeball right away or even summon any of his other pokemon when team rocket showed up. The whole scenario comes across as a bit forced and I think having raticate simply die to old age or something or a natural disaster would've been better, but this is a subjective take from me in the end. Others might not have an issue with the Team Rocket bit.

That aside, it was a pretty emotional oneshot that ends on a positive note. The protagonist is hurting, but they still have the courage to move forward.

 

[Pen]

This was a poignant read. I particularly enjoyed the first half--the prose flowed smoothly, and I appreciated the exploration of modernization in Lavender Town, the way that the narrator is facing a world ready to, in a very literal sense, move on, when he isn't.

The latter half, beginning when the narrator starts to cry, resonated less strongly for me. I felt a bit like the story switched tracks when it plunged into the flash-back, which felt almost too fleshed out to me. It felt like it was being told as it happened at the time, rather than how the narrator remembers it now. I wanted a bit more of a sense that this is a memory he's been over many times and how remembering something in retrospect changes the way you perceive it.

I'm really fascinated by the question here of what we owe the dead, and I was intrigued by the extent to which it feels like Rattata's death is something the narrator is using to justify stasis. Death doesn't need to change us, but for the narrator it almost feels like an excuse to continue to be the kind of person he was --someone who doesn't get involved when other people have problems. I felt like I wanted, if not change, at least a moment of self-realization to give the oneshot an arc. That Rattata was willing to put himself on the line for other people, and our narrator--isn't.

I'm a tiny bit unclear on whether the narrator is still in the old Lavender graveyard--he hasn't already transplanted Rattata, right? Part of me thinks it could have been interesting for him to encounter another mouner at the graveyard towards the end. Even if they don't say anything to each other, just the reminder that he isn't the only one mourning, that world is wider than himself and his grief, would feel powerful to me.

Really thought-provoking oneshot, thanks for this!

The grass swayed beneath the gentle breeze that softly kissed his cheeks.

"kissed his cheeks" feels purple prose-y in a way the rest of the paragraph really doesn't. I think something more understated would fit this story a bit better. Maybe just, "The grass swayed in the gentle breeze."

But he knew it wasn’t whole-hearted. Even though people appeared indignant before him, he heard others excitedly talking about how it would make internet service so much better and help the town grow.

Some people being excited doesn't mean the ones who are indignant are pretending, does it? Though of course, the narrator's not exactly rational about this. But there is something a little spiteful in the way he's choosing to construe this. Particularly since it seems like he didn't actually grow up in Lavender and doesn't live there now? It's a lot to expect a town to be your personal grief land.

Closing his eyes, he grimaced at the thought.

Something a little more direct here, like 'He grimaced' would fit the flow better, I think.

still in the developing stage

* development stage

And they couldn’t dig under the earth to make catacombs, since Lavender Town was so close to the harbor. They would hit water.

I really like this detail. It grounds the story. The practicality is almost jarring, when we're in space of thinking about death and grief.

He remembered seeing news of the Pokemon Tower conversion in the Celadon Sentinel and hearing people excitedly chat about it.

The doubled 'He remembered' didn't work for me here. Perhaps what he doing when he saw the news? That would tell us the news really struck him.

All it did for him was confirm that the world held no value for what was no longer alive.

Mmm, a strong line. It's an interesting question--what does it mean to value what's no longer alive? Is it the dead that are being disrespected here, or the people who mourn those dead? Isn't his objection here really about the living, and their right to choose the manner of their mourning?

He figured that the only way to accommodate so many bodies in such a small space would be mass cremation, and he refused to allow that to happen to his best friend.

Huh, that's a very vehement objection to cremation. I'm kind of curious what informs this for him. Rotting into soil, turning to ash--both are returns to nature. If Rattata had died by fire I could maybe understand the intensity of his objection.

The branches of the maple trees hung low, their browning leaves blocking out much of the sunlight. The rocky slopes rose steeply up not too far in the distance, and the tall grass moved back-and-forth with the wind. He closed his eyes. Raticate would have loved it here. When he looked into the depths of the trees, he could easily imagine his friend sniffing at the trees’ roots or else scampering about playfully.

This was really nicely described. A moment I could feel Rattata's absence vividly.

The trees were difficult for his seven-year-old self to climb, but Rattata loved to play hide-and-seek, probably because he could always sniff out his owner in under a minute.

Oh, that's very cute.

Maybe that was why he never felt that Raticate was “taken” from him; he never felt angry at whatever gods might be out there for removing the Pokemon from his happy life. Raticate chose to die—because he wanted others to live.

This reads a bit oddly having finished the oneshot--Rattata was taken from him by pretty specific people.

“Hmm, maybe we should get out of here—I don’t want to get caught up in someone else’s mess.”

A lot of characterization in this one line.

The men and women started beating the Fire-type with their batons, and the Arcanine howled again as electric currents ran through the batons and into its body.

Hm, this feels a little gratuitous and unrealistic to me. The best way to subdue a pokemon is the normal way, right? With other pokemon? I'm not sure why humans with batons would be Team Rocket's choice here, or why they wouldn't capture the arcanine if it was already so weakened.

The reality that Raticate, who had been around for as long as he could remember and whom he had expected to be with for the rest of his life, was gone hit him.

I always wonder about the expected lifespans of different pokemon. Rattata are, well, rats. Rats don't love forever in our world. Do they live the lifespan of a human in your conception?

Raticate never gave up. His older sister would sit on their family’s living room couch and groom Rattata while softly singing to him. His parents would let Rattata climb into bed with him. They would pet him while reading the morning newspaper. They gave him food at every meal. They took him to vacation with them across Kanto.

The memories in this paragraph feel a lot more like memories of a cherished pet. Which, it's deeply sad when a pet dies, but it's not the same sadness as losing a person. So this paragraph almost weakened the impact of the story to me.

But the anger didn’t last. He never went after Team Rocket. Raticate didn’t die because he wanted to destroy a group of criminals; he died so that his owner could live. Hunting down Team Rocket and getting himself into more trouble would be a poor way to repay his Pokemon.

That's quite a gloss he's putting on this, isn't he? And perhaps a selfish one. That scene could easily be read as Rattata choosing to die to protect not just his "owner" but another pokemon who was being hurt. And if that's the case, doesn't that impart some obligation to at the very least be more concerned with other people's problems and other people's hurts? I'm almost left with the sense that the narrator has been using this death as an excuse to not engage.

He sighed. Though the words of others failed, the presence of those who loved him brought comfort. His older sister would sit with him on the couch, her arms wrapped around him as he sobbed into her shoulder late at night. His parents were there for him—overwhelmingly thankful that he was alive and mostly unhurt. His family was truly sorry that Raticate was gone.

The moment with the sister is strong and concrete, but this paragraph feels like it lapses a bit into summary.

With the last of the fading sunlight, he trotted through the trees onto the worn footpath, leaving Raticate under a bed of clover.

Trot is a little lighthearted--shuffled? walked slowly?

--

Zion's leave a poem thing is catching, and as it happens, this did make me think of one, on the idea of the relationship between the living and the dead. So, from Rilke's Sonnets to Orpheus (trans Edward Snow):

We puzzle over flower, vine-leaf, fruit.
They speak not just the language of the year.
A thing of succor rises from the dark
and its hues may gleam with jealousy

of the dead, those who strengthen the earth.
What do we know of their share in it?
It has long been their practice to enrich
the loam with their own free marrow.

The question is: do they do it willingly?
Does this fruit, a work of sullen slaves,
push through clenched to us, to their masters?

Or are they the masters, sleeping among
the roots and granting us from their profusion
this hybrid of mute strength and kisses?

 

[Spiteful Murkrow]

Heya, dropping in for a fast hitlist ping in the final hours of Week 3 just in case Week 4 makes it a bit hard to come back for a meatier review, but… a one-shot about Kanto, huh? Not sure what I’m getting into other than that this is apparently about something that’s popular fanon, but I suppose there’s only one way to find out…

Spoiler: Line-by-Line

The grass swayed beneath the gentle breeze that softly kissed his cheeks. He stared down at the slate-grey headstone, hands in his pockets, hunched slightly forward. Little shamrocks sprouted around the stone and formed a springy bed.

He told himself that he would be fine. After all, Raticate had been gone for three years. He had long since accepted that fact—he had moved on, had broken out of the shell and started acting normal again. People stopped giving him pitying glances and stopped trying to speak in soothing voices all the time. Not that he missed it—more than anything, he hated the pity. He knew they were trying to help, but all they were doing was bringing back all the hurt and pain and left him feeling more upset than he was to begin with.

Oh, this is a Blue’s Raticate story, huh? It’s already 2 paragraphs in, and I’m already feeling

right now.

He sniffled.

So wait, are Blue’s Pokémon also out for this? If so, how are they reacting to seeing Blue / Raticate’s grave?

It took a few months, but people gradually forgot about it and treated him like they always had—until the Tower was converted. Once the announcement that the place of Raticate’s grave, Pokemon Tower, was to be converted into a radio tower was made, people came up to him and asked him what he thought or how he felt. Some people grew angry, saying how unfair Lavender Town’s city council was acting and that they had no respect for the families of those who had passed away.

Yeeeeeeeah, I can only imagine the collective aneurysm that people had over a historical landmark getting retrofitted into a radio tower, but Kanto has always been one of the more “thoughtless” regions with regard to how its behavior impacts the surrounding environment if the pools polluted enough to only support Muk/Grimer are anything to go by.

But he knew it wasn’t whole-hearted. Even though people appeared indignant before him, he heard others excitedly talking about how it would make internet service so much better and help the town grow.

While it’s not as common as it used to be in say… the 50s through 70s, this sort of philistinism about historical sites is depressingly true to reality. People have a way of letting the wow factor of the latest and greatest run roughshod over the history and existing character of chunks of their neighborhood.

Closing his eyes, he grimaced at the thought. While he had not talked about it to anyone, he was furious at hearing that Raticate’s body would be dug up, carried away, and re-buried in a new house near the entrance to Lavender Town. He saw plans for the small house while it was still in the developing stage and looked at the plot of land it was to be built on. It was far too small. Pokemon Tower held thousands of graves—there was no way that they would all fit into that tiny plot of land. And they couldn’t dig under the earth to make catacombs, since Lavender Town was so close to the harbor. They would hit water.

So they just fired up the crematoriums and dumped the ashes into urns, huh? Since they certainly didn’t build a vertical cemetery in that house in Gen 2. To say nothing about all the Pokémon that lived in/visited the tower that got the boot in the process.

He remembered his family vacationing at Lavender Town’s harbor as he grew up. He would bathe in the sun with Raticate sitting on his lap; he and his sister often raced along the shoreline while their Pokemon trailed along behind them. There were so many happy memories—it was the perfect place for Raticate to be laid to rest.

Wait, so did Raticate die from wounds in battle with Red like the fan theory commonly goes in this continuity? Or did something else happen to it?

He remembered seeing news of the Pokemon Tower conversion in the Celadon Sentinel and hearing people excitedly chat about it. Both in reviews from the newspaper and his classmates’ voices, people were excited that the town would no longer be known for just the Tower; that the “spooky, grim atmosphere pervading the town” would be replaced with something to symbolize the advancement of society.

I can understand why Blue is having an aneurysm about this, since Lavender Tower didn’t exactly vibe as being some modernist claptrap put up 20 years prior to the events of the game. I can only imagine the feelings that Kanto’s more historically-minded types also had at the conversion.

“Lavender Town will finally be rid of the stigma of being known for its dead. It would advance and catch up with the rest of Kanto and join the new world as it accelerated into the digital age.”

inb4 in the present day, people complain about the radio tower being an obnoxious eyesore that clashes with the rest of the town. Since you just know that there was buyer’s remorse after the fact given a few years.

He figured that same paper was still lying trampled in the mud he left it in. Nothing had ever made his face burn so much as seeing those written words in that paper, in seeing the smiling mayor’s face proudly proclaim the changes coming to the city. All it did for him was confirm that the world held no value for what was no longer alive.

Welcome to life when you have no regard for tradition. Everything is disposable and subject to being shunted aside or unceremoniously repurposed for something radically different than its intended use.

In the end, the city council’s decision was unanimous. Pokemon Tower was gone by the end of the month.

Oh, so it was just flatly torn down in this continuity. Not even retrofitted and converted, huh? Though I suppose that would make sense given that attempting to jam radio equipment in a stone tower sounds like a nightmare of a conversion process.

It was too much. As soon as the announcement was made, he vouched to take Raticate’s body back and bury him elsewhere. He figured that the only way to accommodate so many bodies in such a small space would be mass cremation, and he refused to allow that to happen to his best friend.

I mean, that already is the norm in East Asia IRL precisely because there’s not exactly a ton of land left to go around for proper burials, so…

He glanced up. The branches of the maple trees hung low, their browning leaves blocking out much of the sunlight. The rocky slopes rose steeply up not too far in the distance, and the tall grass moved back-and-forth with the wind. He closed his eyes. Raticate would have loved it here. When he looked into the depths of the trees, he could easily imagine his friend sniffing at the trees’ roots or else scampering about playfully.

Reviewer’s note, don’t have downcast music on in the background while reading this. Or maybe do if you want to get straight into the

mood.

The area reminded him of a place just outside Rock Tunnel where he used to play with Raticate all the time—even more when he was a little Rattata. The trees were difficult for his seven-year-old self to climb, but Rattata loved to play hide-and-seek, probably because he could always sniff out his owner in under a minute. Even when they were tired, they could just lie down together beneath the branches of the trees, Rattata’s warm weight pressing down on his stomach.

Still wondering if it was Red, TR, or someone else who kicked Blue’s Raticate over in this continuity here.

He smiled at the memory, and with the smile came more pain. He looked up, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

It didn’t work.

Whelp, guess we’re getting into the “how we got here” moment in pretty short order.

They welled up until his lids couldn’t hold anymore and soon they were running down his cheeks. Wiping them away, he sniffed and tried to regain his composure. Raticate had been gone for three years—it was time to get over it and move on.

Oh, so this is set either shortly before the events of Gen 2 or during it, huh? I’m surprised that Blue’s been able to steal a bit of private time like this for himself as a once-Champion and now current Gym Leader.

He stopped wiping his face and let out a choked sob.

“Why did you die?”

That’s what I’d like to know too, though I suppose you’ll be telling us in short order through a flashback, huh?

No answer came from the grave, but he already knew the answer in his heart.

Maybe that was why he never felt that Raticate was “taken” from him; he never felt angry at whatever gods might be out there for removing the Pokemon from his happy life. Raticate chose to die—because he wanted others to live.

Yeah, this sounds an awful lot like a “TR killed my rat” backstory.

He scrunched his eyes shut as his heart panged. The breeze blew again, chillier this time. Pulling his jacket in tighter around him, the scene played out before his eyes.

Oh boy, here we go.

“Keep at it, Raticate!” he shouted as the Pokemon rapidly dug holes, diving in and out of the dirt as if it was water. “I want you to dig so fast that I can’t see you!”

Raticate emerged from the hole and stopped moving. His ears stood straight up and his nose twitched. He chittered—there was something very large nearby, and several people too. It sounded like they were fighting.

It’s going to be TR, isn’t it?

“Fighting? Like in a Pokemon battle? Maybe there are trainers around here we can challenge! You could use more fighting experience.”

Raticate cocked his head. It sounded different from usual Pokemon battles. Several different people shouted and something was crying out. It sounded distressed!

Feeling pretty good about that prediction already since that did not sound like a friendly battle there.

“Hmm, maybe we should get out of here—I don’t want to get caught up in someone else’s mess.”

Raticate’s ears twitched and he chittered again. The sounds were growing louder—and at this point, his owner could hear them too. It was a loud, sort of barking sound, and thundering footprints—

Blue: “... Oh that ain’t good.”

Raticate lunged at his owner and tackled him to the ground as an Arcanine burst through the tall grass. Several patches of its fur were singed, exposing torn-up skin. It howled as a long, metal dart plunged into its hind leg. A group of men and women clad in black ran up to it, each of them holding a long metal baton. The men and women started beating the Fire-type with their batons, and the Arcanine howled again as electric currents ran through the batons and into its body.

Yeah, I called it. TR is indeed the cause of Raticate’s death in this continuity. Though this is how Blue got his Arcanine, huh?

A woman turned around and saw Raticate crouched on top of his owner.

“Hey!” she shouted. “What are you doing here? This is a Team Rocket-only zone! You can’t watch!”

Her baton sparked with electricity.

Raticate: “*Hah! You think I’m scared of that piddly little thing?! You’ve got another thing coming, lady-!*”
Blue: “Raticate, I’m pretty sure those things can kill Marowak.” O.O
Raticate: “*What is this, Pokémon Origins? As if there’s stun rods just lying around that can kill-*”

His heart clenched. He pushed Raticate off of him and struggled to his feet. Raticate was trying to get around him—he shoved and kicked the Pokemon away—

“Raticate, get out of here! We need to—AHHH!”

The baton only touched his arm for a second, but that second lasted forever. Electricity surged through his body, burning every single vein, seizing his heart, contracting all of his muscles. He had no control over his body. He fell to the ground and screamed—it was all he could do.

Raticate: “*... Okay, maybe they can kill a Marowak in this setting, too. Blue!*”

The electric surge stopped and he lay on the ground gasping. He looked over—and he wished he had been hit with the baton again.

Raticate lunged at the grunt who shocked him, biting and scratching her face. When she screamed, many of her teammates came over and all of them hit Raticate with their shock batons.

Raticate’s screams were horrible.

Oh, so Raticate really did get Pokémon Origins’d in this continuity, huh? Well, at the very least it feels a bit more plausible than a Marowak getting taken out in this fashion even if I have to wonder why the Rockets aren’t using their Pokémon more here since you’d think that that would be a lot safer for them than to tangle with a rat that could potentially bite their faces off in close quarters.

He struggled to his feet, his eyes locked on his Pokemon as his body lit up from the multiple shock weapons. His muscles barely worked—but they had to—he needed to get Raticate out of there—

With the Rocket grunts distracted, the Arcanine fought off the others and released several bursts of flame. Some Team Rocket members screamed as flames enveloped them; others were trampled underfoot; still others fell victim to the Arcanine’s fangs.

Boy that must have been one hell of a police report to file after the fact, since if Raticate could die from getting hit from a bunch of shock batons, that doesn’t bode well for how they fared after getting bitten and barbecued by a dog that stood 6 feet tall at the shoulder.

Every single Team Rocket member was focused on the Fire-type. Raticate lay on the ground, burned, forgotten. His owner scooped him up—they needed to get to a Pokemon Center. Once they reached it and the Chanseys looked after him, Raticate would be all right.

Narrator: “He would not be alright.”
Though I guess that that wasn’t the Arcanine that would wind up becoming Blue’s after all.

The journey to the Pokemon Center took so long—he didn’t know how much time it took, but the entire time, his heart pounded with anxiety. The acrid smell of Raticate’s singed fur filled his nostrils. His head pounded. His heart raced. His chest hurt so badly that he just wanted to stop—but he kept going—he had to—or else…

Once he got to the Pokemon Center, he handed Raticate to the nurse and sat down on a chair in the lobby.

That wait was even worse. He stared at the burn mark on his arm from the grunt’s shock baton. It had been so painful. And Raticate had taken so many of them…

… Wait, is there a reason why Blue didn’t recall Raticate here before rushing him over to the Pokémon Center? Since if they have stasis abilities in this setting, you’d think that unless Blue was busy in “panicking preteen mode” that he’d have instantly gone for that since it’d have been drilled into him as a “if your Pokémon ever gets seriously hurt, do this, it could save its life”.

I mean, alternatively, Raticate’s ball could’ve gotten broken or knocked away in the scuffle with no real way to retrieve it before Blue took off, but that’s not really explicitly stated right now. It’s a small detail, and not that “kid rushing injured pal to help in his arms” isn’t some prime

fuel, but it did make me wonder “why didn’t you just do [X]?” a bit.

He knew he should call his family. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone until the nurse came back with Raticate. He didn’t want to be told that he was arrogant, reckless, or irresponsible.

He just wanted Raticate to be okay.

Nurse Joy: “I’m sorry, but why did you not recall your Raticate again?”

Blue: “Look, I was jumped by half a dozen Rockets and hit by a shock baton. I’m allowed to make mistakes, okay?!”

“Excuse me. You’re the Raticate’s owner, aren’t you?”

He looked up at the nurse standing before him.

He nodded.

Blue: “Is… there something wrong with him?” ._.
Nurse Joy: “... ‘Something’, yes.”

“Will you come with me, please? I have an update on your Pokemon.”

He followed the nurse through the lobby into a small room on the side.

“Sit down, please.”

Blue: “Nurse Joy, you’re kinda scaring me right now.”

Nurse Joy: “... I’m sorry, but there really isn’t an easy way for me to say this to you.”

He took a seat. She did likewise. He stared at her. She gazed at him kindly.

“Your Raticate didn’t make it.”

And there it is. Not that making the trip over outside a Pokéball likely helped.

He stared.

He went numb.

He didn’t make it.

He was gone.

Well, yes. Raticate die when they’re killed-

Blue: “Oh my god, can you not right now?!”

The reality that Raticate, who had been around for as long as he could remember and whom he had expected to be with for the rest of his life, was gone hit him.

… Actually, wait. Where is the rest of Blue’s team for this moment, anyways? Since you’d think that he’d have his starter out at a moment like this to try and reassure himself and his teammates prior to the big announcement of suck that everything would work out and try to take off some of the “hospital waiting room” stress.

He scrunched his eyes up. Tears fell. More tears fell. They fell quickly. His throat closed. His chest convulsed.

Raticate couldn’t be gone—he had lived through so much. He used to play with Squirtle in the pond behind their family’s house. He fought so many battles—against wild Nidoran and Pidgeys, against other trainers’ Charmanders and Pikachus. Raticate never gave up. His older sister would sit on their family’s living room couch and groom Rattata while softly singing to him. His parents would let Rattata climb into bed with him. They would pet him while reading the morning newspaper. They gave him food at every meal. They took him to vacation with them across Kanto.

Can’t tell whether it’s a good or a bad thing that Squirtle/Wartortle wasn’t out with Blue a bit earlier, since if Raticate was to Blue’s starter as this implies, I can’t imagine s/he’d have taken things well him/herself.

On his tenth birthday, when he received his Pokemon Trainer’s license and set out to take on the Pokemon League challenge, Rattata was with him. He welcomed new Pokemon to the team. He fought alongside them. And when the journey of being a Pokemon trainer wore on him and was too much for him to bear, Raticate would come out of his Pokeball and always snuggle with his trainer. Raticate taught him that the effort it took to raise Pokemon was worth it.

Oh, so Raticate was Blue’s “first catch” after his starter, huh? Guess that would explain a thing or two about how this is hitting him so hard.

And he was gone.

The autumn sun cast long, slanted shadows across the face of the tombstone. Fresh tears fell down his cheeks. He could still hear Raticate’s screams as multiple grunts shocked him with their weapons. He would rather have been hit with a shock baton again—he would rather have been hit with all of their shock batons, as Raticate was, because that couldn’t have been as painful as this. If he was electrocuted instead, then Raticate would still be alive…

Raticate’s Ghost: “*In retrospect, knocking the shock batons was probably a bad idea.*” X_X

He coughed.

After Raticate passed, people asked him how he felt. Was he angry? Did he want revenge? Sure he did—at first. But the anger didn’t last. He never went after Team Rocket. Raticate didn’t die because he wanted to destroy a group of criminals; he died so that his owner could live. Hunting down Team Rocket and getting himself into more trouble would be a poor way to repay his Pokemon.

Kind wonder if there should’ve been some sort of scene separation between the flashback sequence where Raticate got fried and the present day, since that section went on for a decent while while this jumpback feels a bit abrupt.

Though people tried to be nice to him, their words and sympathy only hurt him more. Every time they said, “I’m sorry,” all he could hear was, “He’s dead.” People told him that he should be grateful, that he should be proud that his friend was brave enough to put the lives of others before his own. And he was proud—but the pride and gratitude could not hold a candle to the overwhelming sorrow and emptiness that filled his heart for years.

Also, something, something “survivor’s guilt”, since this is about the last thing you want to tell someone who lost their friend in a traumatic fashion without seriously tanking their mood or making them seriously pissed with you.

He sighed. Though the words of others failed, the presence of those who loved him brought comfort. His older sister would sit with him on the couch, her arms wrapped around him as he sobbed into her shoulder late at night. His parents were there for him—overwhelmingly thankful that he was alive and mostly unhurt. His family was truly sorry that Raticate was gone. They never brought it up to him. They were there for him, letting him cry out his heartbreak and pain until his throat had gone hoarse and his eyes ran dry.

Oh, so Blue just had a season after Raticate bit it where he went back to Pallet Town and cried in his room for a while before continuing on with his Gym Challenge, huh? I mean, it makes sense, and it makes me wonder if that was the “want for a nail” moment in this continuity that allowed Red to pass him up.

The last of the sun’s rays cast dappled shadows over the shamrocks sprouting before the tombstone. He raised his eyes and saw the orange disc sinking behind the craggy mountains and knew it was time to head home. The sight was beautiful—it was wonderful, but also painful. His heart was full, but he was so empty inside. He smiled; he was grateful to see such amazing views, and he was joyful—but there was suffering in his joy.

This feels like one of those moments would be neat to see a picture of. Though I again find myself wondering how this scene would’ve played out if some of Blue’s Pokémon were also present for this. Especially his Blastoise.

He shook his head. People told him there would come a day when everything made sense and he could finally joke about Raticate—about ten years after the incident had gone. As it was, everything was too fresh to sit all right.

I mean, maybe? Though AFAIK, there’s nothing akin to Día de los Muertos in Kantonian culture, where this would be part and parcel of an observance as part of commemorating the departed.

He looked down at the grave.

“I’ll see you again soon.”

Wait, so how often does Blue come by to his rat’s grave in this setting anyways? Since I kinda get the feeling that even when he was interred in Lavender Tower, that Blue stopped by a lot.

With the last of the fading sunlight, he trotted through the trees onto the worn footpath, leaving Raticate under a bed of clover.

And cue the credits roll. On an unrelated note:

Yeah, I kinda figured that things were going to go in a direction kinda like this the moment I made it to the third paragraph of this story, but it still hurt to watch things play out. It’s a bit of a shorter piece, but it does a pretty good job at selling the sense of someone trying to process loss and still not fully coming to terms with it even after a bit of interleaving time. Like I get that “Blue’s Raticate died during his Gym Challenge” is a bit of a meme-y thing in the fandom, but your execution of it felt very believable as a backstory here.

As for criticisms with this story, I don’t have any real mechanical quibbles with the story per se, but there were two execution-related bits that made me wonder how things would’ve read with a couple different choices. The first is that the whole bit with Blue taking Raticate to the Pokémon Center minus his Pokéball kinda struck me as a bit weird in logic? Like that’s precisely the sort of moment where you’d want to try and use one, but it’s never really explained why Blue didn’t when it’d potentially be a matter of adding a sentence or two to the effect that “TR Grunt Dick’s Zubat knocked Raticate’s Pokéball out of my hand, it hit a rock and broke into a dozen pieces” to explicitly take that off the board.

The other execution-related quibble is that it kinda struck me as a bit of a missed opportunity to not really incorporate the rest of Blue’s team more into this one-shot. Especially his Blastoise. Like if Raticate’s loss is impacting Blue this hard, it does make me wonder how it’s also affecting his other Pokémon, especially Blastoise who would’ve been there from Day 1 of Raticate’s tenure on Blue’s team. Like I presume it would’ve logically happened offscreen to some extent and perhaps Blue just needs moments on his own from time to time, but it did feel as if there were other parties from Blue’s roster who would’ve logically been there for Raticate’s death or the aftereffects, but they don’t really pop up at all beyond a couple of blink-and-miss it mentions.

That said, I still enjoyed this one-shot quite a bit, and I won’t really begrudge you for leaving it as it is since it is a bit of an old piece. Kudos on the hard work @Starlight Aurate , and I look forward to crossing paths with some of your other writing in the future.

 

[HelloYellow17]

I knew this was going to be a punch to the gut going off the summary you provided in the self-rec thread—and it sure was. This was a very real and raw depiction of grief, one that doesn’t sugarcoat things, and I respect it for that.

Spoiler: Quotes

Once the announcement that the place of Raticate’s grave, Pokemon Tower, was to be converted into a radio tower was made, people came up to him and asked him what he thought or how he felt.

Ohhhh wow I didn’t even think about this, but this happens in GSC, doesn’t it?? What a wild choice. To think about it happening—like, actually happening in a full world with real consequences and not just a video game—changes everything. A horrible, horrible decision with absolutely no respect for the dead. There’s no way there weren’t lots of protests over this.

He remembered his family vacationing at Lavender Town’s harbor as he grew up. He would bathe in the sun with Raticate sitting on his lap; he and his sister often raced along the shoreline while their Pokemon trailed along behind them. There were so many happy memories—it was the perfect place for Raticate to be laid to rest.

Explains why he didn’t want to move him away or bury him in Pallet Town, then. This place was special to them both. It’s not actually very clear where he ended up moving Raticate’s burial site—outside of Rock Tunnel? Somewhere else?

Nothing had ever made his face burn so much as seeing those written words in that paper, in seeing the smiling mayor’s face proudly proclaim the changes coming to the city. All it did for him was confirm that the world held no value for what was no longer alive.

Gosh yeah, that would feel like such a slap to the face. I wonder if he ever tried to speak out against this, or if he simply accepted it was going to happen.

He smiled at the memory, and with the smile came more pain. He looked up, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

It didn’t work.

This part is where I teared up a little. There’s just something so real about trying and failing to hold back tears, and the amount of pain someone has to be in to experience it.

He used to play with Squirtle in the pond behind their family’s house. He fought so many battles—against wild Nidoran and Pidgeys, against other trainers’ Charmanders and Pikachus. Raticate never gave up. His older sister would sit on their family’s living room couch and groom Rattata while softly singing to him. His parents would let Rattata climb into bed with him. They would pet him while reading the morning newspaper. They gave him food at every meal. They took him to vacation with them across Kanto.

All of these little memories really compounded how deeply the loss is felt. He didn’t just lose a Pokémon on his team, he lost a childhood friend, a life-long companion. That’s so much worse, actually.

After Raticate passed, people asked him how he felt. Was he angry? Did he want revenge? Sure he did—at first. But the anger didn’t last. He never went after Team Rocket. Raticate didn’t die because he wanted to destroy a group of criminals; he died so that his owner could live.

This is quite a wise decision that he came to, and I don’t necessarily disagree with it, but I do wish we got a little more insight into Blue’s emotions in the aftermath. Maybe he didn’t go after them, but I’m sure he felt angry. I’m sure he dealt with some trauma after witnessing Raticate go through something so awful. Did he blame himself? Did he alternate between rage and sadness? I’d have liked to get a little more insight into this, because grief brings such a maelstrom of emotions—you feel everything and nothing all at once.

He raised his eyes and saw the orange disc sinking behind the craggy mountains and knew it was time to head home. The sight was beautiful—it was wonderful, but also painful. His heart was full, but he was so empty inside. He smiled; he was grateful to see such amazing views, and he was joyful—but there was suffering in his joy.

I enjoy that there’s no sugarcoating here. Sure, there’s still things to enjoy in life, and he’ll keep living it. But everything, even the good things—especially the good things—are going to hurt for a long time because Raticate isn’t there with him. Grief is rather unfair that way. There’s hope that the pain won’t be so ever-present someday—but that isn’t today. And that’s okay.