My last update of the summer. ): Gonna be a bit of a hiatus, due to SCHOOOOOL AHHH. I hopefully will be updating once every 2/3 weeks-ish. Love you guys!

Double check.

Triple check.

Quadru- Okay, no. She's gone. Stop worrying.

Haruhi wasn't at the most calm state of mind at the moment, but he was managing. He breathed in deeply and squared his shoulders. This would be easy.

He pushed hard on the door and two young aides working under the professor looked at him in surprise.

Storming through the lab, one of them fluttered towards him uneasily. "H-hey, what are yo-"

He shot the young man- maybe less then eight years older then him- a frozen glare. He stopped short as if shot.

Haruhi glanced around. Elm was nowhere in sight. Damn. The aides were probably too stupid to operate the security system, maybe if he-

Glancing at the podium holding the starters, he almost laughed. No plexiglass, alarm, sensors… not even a motion sensor. The Pokemon were completely unprotected. He smirked as he strode over to the display, ignoring the two employees squeaks of worry disapproval. He picked a Pokeball up and examined it.

It was the water Pokemon, right? It had to be. With this, all he had to do was find the girl, battle her, and then laugh at her defeat. Then, he'd never have to see this stupid town (or her) again. Perfect plan.

He held the Pokeball tight, and strolled quickly but casually to the door. This is where the other members of the lab grew a backbone. They stood in front of the door, glaring at him.

"Give it back!"

"Make me."

The other one, who hadn't spoke yet, looked horrified. This was a hell of a lot easier then he thought it would be. He slammed hard with his left shoulder into the door, and the two nerds jumped away instantly.

Bodyguards would be a good idea, Elm. He smirked. Striding into the sun again, he knew it was time to start running. He dropped the Pokeball into his black messenger bag, and sprinted casually out of the town.

Running had always been easy. He was fast, back when he went to school. The fastest boy at his elementary, and probably his middle school, if he bothered to spend more then one year and a half there. The girls never tried.

He had a solid three years of running. From one place to another, away from people. It seemed like Haruhi was always running away from a place, never to. This wasn't a problem to him. Nevertheless, he relaxed as he fell to the ground in a well chosen hiding place at the edge of Cherrygrove. Here he would wait, wait for his chance to show off his new water type. He smiled, looking down at the simple Pokeball in his hand. Revenge was sweet.

Haruhi had time, though. Back flat against the edge of the building, he sat with one leg bent, gazing contently at his black messenger bag. It was worn, and a lot more brownish grey now instead of black, but… well, he had had it for 2 and half years. Somewhat unavoidable. It held, quite simply, his life. The thing must have weighed 40 pounds. Maybe more.

Contents of said bag: An old, almost completely useless mp3 player, small headphones, several worn notebooks, plastic water bottles (3), a thermos, blue and black ink pens, (5, most of which do not work) a calculator, a copy of Oliver Twist, Wizard Of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, 1984, The Princess Bride, and a few other more recent titles. (He thought most of these books were stupid, and read them only out of extreme boredom) mechanical Pencils (2), traditional Pencils (1 and a half), hair ties (More then he'd ever bother to count), a couple extra t-shirts (4), small bottles of shampoo and soap (5), Granola Bars (2, restock was necessary), old newspaper articles, a flashlight, a rope, some crappy, broken tent equipment, trash bags (4, also running low), a Swiss army knife, crumpled money thrown here and there, lots of change, a few very, very well folded photographs, and a pokeball. That was it.

Obviously, this thing was completely packed and really, really heavy. He didn't really notice anymore, though, as he never ever went anywhere without it. He sighed and picked up one of his more recently obtained (aka stolen) titles and read, feeling bored and somewhat anxious. His mind was somewhere else, on hazel eyes and gravity defying pigtails. He had known that she existed for what- an hour? Maybe two, now. And yet… she was so damn hard to forget, even for a moment. When he beat her, that would go away. It had to. It just… really had to.

Haruhi read quietly, still feeling distracted. The pages flipped by quickly, and he soon lost track of time through stereotypical characters and generic twists. She was even drifting out of his head..

Until loud footfalls alerted him that someone was racing through Cherrygrove like they were escaping from jail. He shut the book and replaced it in his bag, grabbing the starter and standing up. Shifting through the entrance of the little alley-secret-passageway, he walked over to her casually.

Confidence tugged a smirk onto his lips. She stared back at him, looking tired and out of energy. Still, though, her eyes looked as alive and pissed off as they did a few hours ago. New was the sleek device hanging from her lemonade yellow bag. He paused for a second, surprised. A Pokedex? Really? …Did she steal it? Maybe he should of picked one of those up, as well. At her feet, stood the Cyndaquil from before, innocently skipping around. He really hoped his Pokemon wasn't so… stupid.

"That's your Pokemon?" Well, yeah, obviously, plus, he had already seen it, but… she didn't know that, did she. She tensed, glaring at him harder. "Elm must be a complete idiot to give a Pokemon like that to a person like you." The words tumbled out easily, though he didn't totally understand them- wasn't he just dissing her starter a moment earlier? She just stood her ground silently, getting angrier and angrier by the second. Haruhi continued. "You're not even worth the time to battle y-" He was lying and he knew it, but he got cut off before he could finish.

"Are you challenging me?" She sounded so angry. It was perfect.

He smiled venomously. "Perhaps I am."

"Bring it," she shot back, her Cyndaquil moving, prepared to fight. This was going to be over very fast. He took the stolen pokeball from his pocket, clicking it as he had always saw on TV. A beam shot out, and he finally saw his Pokemon before him.

Haruhi was in no way a Pokemon expert. One day? Maybe. Today? Yeah, no. One thing he definitely knew, though, was that most water Pokemon were not green. And they did not have giant leaves on their heads.

He had picked the grass type.

And now, she actually had a chance of beating him.

He cursed himself, over and over in his head. Why didn't he ask? They would have told him anything- why didn't he ask, shit, shit, shit, shit! He felt as the world was falling to pieces, all because of a really stupid mistake.

Haruhi was beginning to wonder if the girl- and all the problems that resulted from her- was turning him insane.

He had the first move, but he couldn't think- it's not like it would have had any type moves yet, but… but…

"You were trying to get the water type, weren't you?"

Was the girl a mind reader? Some creature from beyond sent to torment him? What the hell was with her? Better question: Why did he care?

Ignoring her, he quietly told the Pokemon- it was a Chikorita, or that was at least the name he remembered, to tackle her own starter. As if they had been battling together for years, she ordered her Cyndaquil to do the same and it hit his- He hated the fact he even poessed the stupid mistake- Chikorita head on.

He tried. He really, really wanted to beat her. Badly. It was the first time in years he had ever wanted something that much. But he lost. The grass Pokemon fell to the ground in defeat, and his hands closed into fists.

He would beat her. If it took days or months, if it took all the training he had, he would defeat her. Then, she'd drift away forever- He'd never have to think about her again- and he could become the Pokemon champion in peace.

"It's a promise," he murmured quietly. One that would be kept.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you!"

He thought for a second that she was reading his mind again. "You happy you won?" He grit his teeth, trying to hold in his anger and bitter disappointment.

"Very!"

Obnoxious, annoying girl.

"This is nothing," he reminded himself as he sent his pokemon back into its ball. After all… "I'm going to be the world's greatest Pokemon trainer."

Silence fell, and if he wondered if he had actually said something quietly.

"Well, then you better tell me your name so I can spread the word."

Or not.

He looked back up at her, his new, annoying, obnoxious problem in his life.

"Like hell I'm telling you," was all he said, and he walked past her. He walked three steps before he glanced over his shoulder and saw her holding a small white card. What the-

His trainer card.

"Give it back!" he shouted, running at her as she danced out of grip, holding it high above her head.

"That's my trainer card!" he attempted, stupidly hoping she was going to react to this.

She did. In completely the wrong way.

"Oooh!" she exclaimed, lowering the card to read it. Her eyes darted to the name, and he could see the syllables digest in her head.

Ha. Ru. Hi.

His stupid name was a secret no more. Taking her distraction as advantage, he pushed her waist and she fell like a ton of bricks, and he plucked the card from her fingers as she fell, without any sense of grace or elegance, onto the ground.

She saw my name. Damnit, he thought, as he ran away from her and her chaotic black hole of life wreckage.