I think my blood is passing me by

Ruìsāng was seething.

Today was supposed to be different, better. He had a delightful companion in his bed, a crisis conveniently ignored, and was all set for a day relishing the company of someone he found genuinely captivating. How deep his feelings ran, he avoided contemplating. It was going to be an excellent day.

Or so he thought, until an ungodly 5AM call from a pair of lesbians shattered his tranquillity, pleading for him to retrieve a Pokéball from a girl who was the female mirror of twink — the kind who'd dissolve into tears at the mere utterance of a sentence.

In short, what was shaping up to be a splendid day had swiftly nose-dived into irritation as he parked his car and trudged through the back door of the Golden Eye. Spotting Kaye glued to her phone only deepened his scowl.

“I swear to Arceus, Kaye, if you’re texting Djodie you will owe me a third favour. It’s two already, just so you know,” he snapped, slamming the Pokéball on the counter with a force that echoed his annoyance, his arms folding defensively. His mood had clearly plummeted from bad to worse.

Behind Ruìsāng, his Mawile and the uncaught Vulpix followed. The Vulpix, still uncaught, unwittingly stirred a sense of jealousy in the Mawile. The resulting jealousy meant the Mawile now refused to be confined, insisting on staying visibly by Ruìsāng's side. This posed a dilemma for Ruìsāng; he couldn't trust them to stay with Vince, and so, his current endeavour became a team effort.

As he forcefully set the Pokéball on the table, the device sprung to life, releasing the Pokémon contained within. Ruìsāng's attention, however, remained steadfastly on Kaye. He didn’t spare a glance for the emerging creature, confident in Lìeyàn's ability to handle any conflict. The moment the Typhlosion emerged, towering and imposing, Lìeyàn instinctively positioned herself protectively between Ruìsāng and the new arrival, her jaws snapping with a warning ferocity.

“How’d it go?” Ruìsāng echoed Kaye's question, his tone dripping with barely-contained irritation. “You really had me fetch a Pokéball from some female twink you've been seeing? While I was sleeping?” he spat out the words, a mix of disbelief and annoyance evident in his voice. “Next time, keep it in your pants, or at least manage your Pokéballs better. I’m not doing this again. It was a hassle,” he continued, his arms crossing over his chest, exuding a petulant defiance not unlike that of a disgruntled child.