Taboo - Chapter Seven

Warning: Mild language is in this chapter (near the end of the second scene).

Previously on Taboo:
Bianca managed to finally beat the Vermillion Arena on her second try, taking out Quena's brother Tepo in the first round. After the battle, Tepo had an enigmatic conversation with a tree named the tanere nouvo, a new species of mahogany tree. Scientists soon descended on the scene to research the plant, but it absconded before they could get their grubby sanitized gloves on it. Meanwhile, Cameron exploded on Bianca when she returned home. Why? Who was the mysterious figure in the first scene? What will happen when our heroes go to Celadon on a magic school bus? And will we ever catch the elusive Tanere Nouvo??? Find out next time on Taboo!!!

---

The bus creaked to a halt in front of the stop, steam fuming out of the exhaust pipe. The driver inside, a raggedy and bearded man, slammed his meaty fist down on a button. The door slid to the side, only to stop halfway through.

"Blasted door," he muttered as he hopped down the stairs. The driver kicked the door open the rest of the way, and looked expectantly at the two young teenagers in front of him.

"Well? You two gunna get on or what?"

Bianca and Cameron exchanged glances. An invisible wall had existed between them since yesterday; however, in the face of an ancient, rickety bus (and its equally disheveled driver), it was - at least momentarily - dissolved.

After the driver had resumed his position in his seat, Bianca stepped onto the bus with a sigh, arms cradling a sleeping Elliot. Cameron, after a moment's hesitation, followed. The duo slipped bus passes into their hands, and the driver waved them on as he lighted a cigarette.

"I'm almost certain that's illegal," Bianca noted under her breath. Cameron gave a nod.

She looked back at him; he looked away, not meeting her eyes.

Bianca turned away to find a seat. The bus was just as dirty on the inside as it was on the outside, with crumpled newspapers and soda cans strewn about the floor, and the thick smell of smoke wafting through the air. She thought disgustedly, 'You can't judge a book by it's cover?' Yeah, right.

Despite the lack of cleanliness, the bus was full of people. She kept her face unconcerned as she found a seat in the back and stuffed her duffel bag and foldable bike in the compartment above, although her thoughts were tinged with anger. Don't any of these people care that this is what they're paying taxes for? Dirty, century-old buses?

Bianca plopped down into her seat by the window, her tiny Mareep curled up in her arms. Her mouth twitched, unable to keep away a frustrated frown. Cameron saw it; after he placed his baggage and bike next to her luggage, he paused hesitantly.

She glanced at him, and he looked away again before sitting down beside her uncomfortably.

The bus driver's loud mutterings could be heard all the way in the back as he attempted to shut the door. "Blasted door...always such a right pain... don't get paid enough for this job..."

At long last, the door slammed shut, and for a moment Bianca had the whimsical notion that the whole bus would give the driver a passionate round of applause for his accomplishment.

But of course, the only sounds were the bus's rusty engine starting up and the bustle of the passengers. She nestled her chin into her tiny Mareep's soft wool, something that Elliot would ordinarily protest against if he weren't asleep.

Cameron changed positions restlessly, sitting up straight and then leaning to one side of his chair. Finally he decided to face what was bothering him with a sigh.

He turned to Bianca, who was glancing nonchalantly out the window.

"Bianca... I'm sorry."

She turned to face him, caught off guard. He hung his head.

"About yesterday, I mean. I..." Cameron paused, struggling to come up with the right words. "I was... a little irritated, I guess, 'cause I was, uh, burned, like everywhere, and..."

He sighed, giving up what he had hoped to be a quick and easy apology, and looked into Bianca's eyes for what must have been the first time that day.  They were filled with guilt. "Bianca, I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday. It was wrong, I know, but I was in a bad mood, and I just...I just didn't want to deal with anything."

Bianca didn't know what to say. She still felt hurt from the previous day, but for Cameron to come right out and apologize so soon it happened...

Cameron continued. "It was wrong, and it was mean, and you didn't deserve to be treated that way. I apologize."

She was at a loss for words. She had never met anyone who had owned up to his (or even her, for that matter) mistakes, and acknowledged that they had done something wrong. How was she supposed to respond?

For that matter, what had she done? Here was Cameron, admitting his mistakes, when Bianca had isolated herself from him and hardly tried to understand him at all. He said he was hurt. He acted like he was hurt, that day - flinching away when she touched him. How could she have been so cruel, so mean, as to sulk and become distant when it was Bianca who had caused him so much pain?

The realization sickened her. "No, Cameron, I... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made it worse, and I could've been more understanding afterwards. I could've, but I didn't." She hung her head. "I'm so sorry."

Her curiosity (not to mention worry) was starting to get the better of her, however. "But, Cameron... You said you were burned - did something happe-"

"Nothing happened, I'm fine," he replied quickly, turning away. "Really, I'm perfectly fine. Nothing happened at all. Nothing."
Bianca glanced at him, concerned. "...Alright. But I'm still worried about you."

Cameron gave a humorless chuckle. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Really." He paused, looking back into Bianca's eyes. She bit her lip; that sad puppy stare had returned.

"And, um, Bianca... You know the night before last? When you were practicing with Elliot?"

"Yeah." She remembered it all too well, and the color rose slightly in her cheeks. "What of it?"

"Can you, um... Would it be too much to ask if, um..."

Bianca watched him curiously as he stumbled over his words until he finally blurted out,

"Can you forget everything that happened that night?"

She stared at him. "...What?"

His face flushed, and he once again failed to meet her gray eyes. For a fleeting moment she wondered what it was in those eyes that made him avoid them so much. "Just... forget about it, alright? Please?"

"But..."

"Bianca, please," Cameron pleaded. "Nothing happened that night, okay? We just talked, maybe, and..."

He trailed off as he tried to avoid Bianca's confused gaze. He mumbled, trying to explain, "I'm sorry, it's just... you weren't supposed to... I wasn't..."

Cameron rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Just no more of that kind of stuff, alright? No more going unconscious and everything, that's bad for my health, and no more personal conversations," he rambled. "And, uh, the you-know-what part. Sorry about that, it was probably rea-"

The bus suddenly screeched to a sickening halt, and Cameron nearly slammed headfirst into the chair in front of him. Elliot woke with a yelp and clung to Bianca, sending startled surges of electricity throughout her body.

"We've made it to Celadon, punks," the bus driver retched into the loudspeaker. "Now git out before I call the Rockets on you."

"Cheerful as always, that one," Bianca murmured as she, along with Cameron an some other passengers, stood up. The bus gave a final, sudden lurch backwards, and Bianca fell onto the red-head with a squeal of surprise.

The effect was instantaneous. The electricity that had built up in Bianca from her Mareep stunned Cameron like a tazer, freezing him where he stood and causing a shout to escape him. She backed off of him, but the deed was done; a sizzle mark scarred the place where she had touched him, and Cameron was now halfway on the ground, his long legs up on his chair and his arms rigidly grabbing at the seats on the other side of the aisle.

Bianca stared at him in worry. "C-Cameron! Are you okay?!"

"A l-l-little shocked, p-p-pun c-completely in-in-intended," he stuttered, his teeth crashing uncontrollably and his body shuddering.

"A'ight, a'ight, outta the way, bus driver comin' through," the driver barged his way through the surprised mass of people who had gotten out of their seats to look at Cameron. "What's it now? Choking?"

The redhead tried to correct the man, but the gangly bus driver kicked him in the gut before he could speak. "There, all the crap in his throat'll come out now." He turned and trudged back down the aisle, leaving an aghast Cameron to rub his stomach tenderly.

He turned to stare at Bianca with an incredulous look that said, Can you believe that guy? It took her a moment to respond.

And in spite of all that had happened, she laughed. She squeezed her eyes shut and genuinely laughed until tears nearly came in them. She helped her friend up, still giggling, and another stroke of the chuckles hit her again when she saw his comical confused face.

"What's so funny?"

"You're always falling over, Cameron," she grinned. "You had to dodge when Elliot was practicing, you fell over when I shocked you, you got kicked by some old geezer... You're just so accident-prone, it's funny."

"Well, I guess I'm not the most balanced guy in the world," he mumbled, but he finally cracked a smile. "But neither are you, Bianca! Toppling that tower of cans, falling all over the place in the forest, shocking me... When do I get to laugh at that?"

Bianca snorted. "You can laugh whenever you want, you'll just get elbowed in the chest a couple times for good measure."

He gasped in mock horror. "Oh no, not the chest! I've already been beaten once by an old fat guy, I'm not going to be beat up by a girl next!"

The two retrieved their bags and clambered off the bus, grinning at each other and punching each other playfully. They paused as the bus sailed away, taking the stench of gasoline and cigar smoke with it.

Bianca looked around wistfully. Celadon City. It was where her grandfather lived; they would be staying at his house during their time in the small blue-hued town. He loved it here, she knew; Bianca liked the homely town too, but she had a world to see. A world to save.

She eyed Cameron. The teen was already babbling about something. Something about Celadon and a whole lot of books. He was probably talking about Celadon's famous library; Bianca had already been there, but if Cameron wanted to go, who was she to stop him?

Cameron... So many strange things had happened since she began her trip. Bianca had already been mugged once, saved someone's life, gained a companion, been trained by a strange woman, and met so many people. While a lot of the Arena Battlers were hairy old men (and hairy old women), some of them, like Quena and Tepo, had been nice (if not a little eccentric). I hope we meet again someday, so I can show Quena how strong I've become, Bianca wished silently.

But she was still in the dark about so much. Cameron was keeping secrets from her, she knew. Something about the mysterious Nicole had told her that the woman wasn't just some Arena spectator. Someone didn't particularly like her, as evidenced by the man who attacked her in Cerulean.

And above all, she still hadn't found the person her grandfather had directed her towards - the person who would help her stop the Taboo. The fourth Arena was coming on fast, and Bianca was beginning to doubt that any such person even existed. It had been years since Grandpapa had received news about this figure - what if he (or she) had already packed up and moved on? Bianca's doubts grew stronger with every passing day.

And yet, she kept going toward her goal - to become a real Trainer, and travel the world on fantastic adventures with Pokémon. She had grown up with fairytale stories of magical Pokémon and intrepid Trainers, of beautiful Pokémon humans, and of the majestic sights that Bianca soon learned weren't just a fantasy. She wanted to see it all, to discover things no one had seen before, to prove legends real and, above all, become the best Trainer ever. To make everyone proud of how strong she was.

Bianca sighed, wiping the hair out of her face. All that was for later, once she actually succeeded. "For now," she grinned teasingly at Cameron, grabbing his arm carefully (who knew if she still had electric charges in her?), "let's just go to Grandpapa's house. We can go to the library and do everything you wanted to tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine," he muttered, faking boredom and giving a great, heaving sigh of sarcastic remorse. Bianca laughed and began to pull him down the sidewalk. I won't worry about any of it yet, she thought as the duo moved through the streets. For now, just looking around is good enough.

---

"You know what, I don't have to stay here. I could get a hotel room or something, I wouldn't mind."

"You're just worried he won't like you."

"Well, yeah, but..."

"C'mon, Cameron, it'll be fine. Trust me."

Despite his friend's cheerful attitude, Cameron was... apprehensive, to say the least.

He rubbed his arm, standing awkwardly on the old porch, as Bianca leaned nonchalantly against the railing. He longed to take up a more casual position, like Bianca, but he didn't dare. Who knew what kinds of standards her grandfather had?!

Cameron imagined the worst. He had never dropped the childish notion that all old men were cruel and strict toward everyone they met. The redhead wondered vaguely if it was his uncle who had instilled such thoughts in him - the man was cold as ice - and decided reluctantly in the affirmative.

He jumped as the door creaked open. This is it, he moaned inwardly, and his stomach did a sickening backflip when an old man stepped into the doorway.

He glanced briefly at the redhead before turning to Bianca, and Cameron gulped. Oh Arceus, let me be invisible. Just let me blend into the background, or even just jump over the railing before he sees me, oh Arceus, oh man, oh man...

He was oblivious to the exchange of warm greetings between grandfather and granddaughter, until he was brought into the conversation by the former. "And who is this?"

Bianca glanced at Cameron, who was shaking like a leaf. She placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly (her gentle touch only sent his stomach further into its gymnastics routine) as she explained, "Oh, this is my friend, Cameron. He's been traveling with me for a while - well, we've been traveling together, but that doesn't really matter."

She turned to her friend. "And Cameron, this is my grandfather, Steven Stone. He was a... erm..." She trailed off abruptly, glancing uneasily between the two.

Steven gave an easy smile, his face wrinkling as he did so. He took a step toward the redhead and held out a hand. "Well, nice to meet you, Cameron. Have you been with Bianca long?"

Cameron stuck out a rigid hand, sweating bullets. His nervousness affected his grip; they clasped hands awkwardly, with Cameron's hands wrapping oddly around the older man's. Steven took no notice of it, only barely revealing a knowing smile as he loosened his hold into a more relaxed position for the both of them.

"Erm, not really, no," Cameron replied, stuttering. "I mean, we met Cerulean, which is where we were a couple weeks ago, so we've only been together... well, not together, more like traveling with each other, for a couple weeks, like I said before, and... um..."

"Why don't we just go inside," Bianca cut in. "It's getting a little chilly out here, anyways."

"Oh, of course," Steven agreed. "You both must be tired from your long trip."

Bianca grabbed her bags and followed him in through the doorway. "Not as much, actually. There was a little... incident on the bus ride," she added, winking at Cameron behind her, "but not much else."

"Good to hear. Could you show Cameron the guest room, Bianca?"

"Sure." She turned to her friend, who was gazing in awe around the room from the doorway. "C'mon, Cameron."

"Pretty nice house you got here," he commented, unable to keep his eyes off the spacious hallway and the exquisite furnishings as he followed Bianca up the stairs. "Are you guys rich or something?"

She paused. "Mm, not really. Grandpapa's dad used to be president of this big company - Devon, if you've heard of it - which made them a ton of money. But when he died, Grandpapa didn't continue the business, since he was more into, um, other stuff."

They reached the top of the staircase. Cameron dropped his bags to rest a moment and asked, "What'd he do, then?"

"He, um..." Bianca rubbed her neck uneasily. "Well, erm, he was a..."

Cameron glanced at her. "A what?"

She returned the look reluctantly. "...Cameron, I know you don't really like them, but Grandpapa used to be a, well, Trainer." She watched his expression turn into shock as she continued slowly, "A Champion, actually, when he was about our age. He quit a while after that to look for precious stones and the like - he really liked that kind of stuff - and after that, just became a plain old guy who, for lack of a better word, trained Trainers."

Cameron's shoulders dropped. "You're... You're kidding. No way."

Bianca bit her lip. "...Sorry. I know you don't like Trainers, but... but he's not one anymore!" she added quickly. "That was years ago. Like, when I was born he pretty much stopped, and that was ages ago."

Cameron still didn't looked convinced. She tried to sympathize with him; Trainers were purportedly criminals who had abused Pokémon and their abilities, and trapped them without mercy. No wonder he was so surprised, after seeing how nice her grandfather was.

She urged, "A-And he wasn't the kind who killed Pokémon! He wasn't that bad... He's not bad at all, Cameron, I swear."

He leaned against the wall, uncertain. He swallowed. "Was he, uh..." Cameron glanced up, hesitant to ask. "Was he... ever in jail?"

Steven Stone? The Certified Pokemon League Champion of Ever Grande City and the Region of Hoenn, who had served during the famous outbreak of Kyogre and Groudon back in '55? In jail? The very thought was preposterous. Infuriating, even.

Bianca bristled with indignation. "Of course not!"

Cameron winced at her fierce response. "Okay, I was just asking! Just making sure I wasn't sleeping under the same roof as a tried criminal. Trying to put my mind at ease, ya know?"

Bianca eyed him. "Sure, alright. But you better not sass my grandfather - he's never hurt anyone his whole life, he's the nicest guy, and so help me god, if I hear so much as a word about him, you better believe you won't be able to leave the hospital for months. I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, I've been involved in numerous secret raids in Orre, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in guerrilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire armed forces out of every region. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to my grandfather when I'm not there? Think again. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the globe, and your very location is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're dead, Cameron. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways - and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the Region of Kanto Marine Corps, and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little 'clever' comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're dead, Cameron."

Bianca cleared her throat. "Now that we've got that out of the way, let me show you where your room is. It's right down the hall here." With a casual smile she turned and began walking towards it.

Cameron did not follow. But in the end, he could never resist.

---

"Bianca. May I have a word?"

"Oh, um, sure. One second..."

She yanked a pajama shirt over her head and hopped over the mess of clothes on the floor. She managed to shove some of the heap underneath her bed before opening the door for her grandfather.

He glanced at the carpet. "You should probably wash your clothes instead of pushing it under the bed," he noted, eyes twinkling.

Bianca reddened slightly. "I'll do it tomorrow," she replied, falling back to sit on the bed. "You wanted to talk?"

"Yes. About your friend... Coleman, was it?"

"Cameron, Grandpapa."

"Right." The older man scratched the back of his head, uncertain. "Erm, Bianca... How long ago did you meet him, again?"

"I think we met in Cerulean, so... I dunno, a few weeks ago, maybe more. Why?"

Steven sighed. "Well, I'd just like you to know that you shouldn't... rush into these kinds of things, alright? I respect your judgment, and I trust your decisions, but... I just think it's a little early."

Bianca blinked. "Um. Excuse me?"

Her grandfather sat on the comfortable bed next to her and told her gently, "If you would like to be... intimate with this Cameron, it's alright with me, so long as you are sure. But you shouldn't do it this soon, wait a bit an-"

Bianca's eyes widened and she leaped off the bed, blushing profusely. "Oh my god, Grandpapa, Cameron isn't my boyfriend!" Bianca stammered. "We barely even know each other, it's not like that!"

He looked at her, mildly surprised. "Oh. Is that so?"

"Yes!!"

"Huh. Well, now you know where I stand on it, if you ever wondered," he winked.

Bianca rolled her eyes. "Alright, that's it. Out of my room."

Her grandfather stood, chuckling. "I'm sorry, Bianca, it was hard trying to gauge your, er, 'relationship' with Landon in such a short period of time."

"Cameron, Grandpapa, not Landon. And we're just friends," she added quickly. "He's a nice guy, sure, but not much more than that. Okay?"

The elderly man chuckled. "Alright, alright." He paused, his face melting away into a more serious look. "There was something else I wanted to ask you about, though."

Bianca glanced at him. "Yeah?"

"Does Cameron know about... what you're doing?"

She stopped. Looking away to avoid his questioning gaze, she walked over to her mirror and sat down in the chair before it. She picked up a brush and began combing her hair, pretending she hadn't heard him.

Steven sighed and rubbed his forehead. He moved behind her, gently taking the brush from her hands and moving it through her long hair for her.

"Have you told him anything?" he asked softly, noting the way his granddaughter avoided his eyes in the mirror, instead focusing on the picture frames she had on the desk.

"...No," she murmured reluctantly.

Bianca finally met his gray eyes with hers. "Can... can you put my hair up? In pigtails, like you always used to?"

He smiled tenderly. "Of course."

Her eyes darted back to the photographs. One of which - an old Polaroid of a man holding up a happy child in the fairgrounds - she fingered absently as her grandfather stroked her hair with his brush.

"Do you like him, Bianca?"

"...Yes," she whispered, almost guiltily. "He... he's really nice, and sweet, and..."

"Cute?"

"So cute," she sighed. Her tone became bitter. "But... I'm lying to him. I've been lying to him, this entire time. I don't want to tell him the truth, he'd hate me..."

"But if he found out on his own, he'd hate you even more?"

"Yeah. I don't know what to do, Grandpapa," she whispered, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "I wanted to make it to Fuchsia without him finding out, but... I don't think I can."

"It's one pickle, that's for sure," he confirmed softly, and she managed a small laugh. His quirky mannerisms were always funny to her - had always been funny to her.

He parted her hair in half, and she passed him a scrunchy. He continued quietly, "But maybe it's best to tell him, before he finds by himself. At least then you can control the situation a bit more."

"What do you mean?" Bianca asked, wincing as he pulled her hair together tightly and wrapped the scrunchy around it.

"I mean," he replied, accepting another band from his granddaughter, "if you tell him, you can at least explain your case and that you're sorry. If he found out on his own, you wouldn't be able to tell him your side and that you meant to tell him; he'd feel betrayed, and that would only make it worse."

Bianca sunk into the cushioned chair, deflated, even as Steven yanked the rest of her hair into a tight pigtail. "You're right," she sighed. "But there's never a good moment to tell him until it's too late..."

"Then you'll just have to make your own moments," he suggested, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly. "Invite him somewhere private where you can talk. Tell him you have to talk with him about something later." He managed to catch her eye in the mirror, and smiled. "I'm sure you'll be able to think of something."

Bianca looked at her hands. She stood and turned to hug her grandfather. "Thanks, Grandpapa," she whispered. "You always know what to do."

He blinked, surprised, but embraced her tightly. "Anytime, my dear," he replied warmly.

She released him, and began to move toward her bed as he added, "By the way, have you come across-"

"No, Grandpapa," she sighed tersely, "I've heard absolutely nothing about that guy you said would help me with the Taboo. To be honest, I'm not even sure if he exists."

"She, Bianca," Steven corrected. He paused, rubbing his chin in thought. "And she should be around somewhere... hmm..."

"What does she look like?" Bianca asked, sitting down on her bed.

Her grandfather shrugged. "I don't know. It's been a long time since we last met..." He sat at Bianca's mirror desk, fingering the photograph of the man and his child nostalgically. "A long, long time."

"Is she an old person, then?" Bianca questioned, imagining someone his age.

"No, she should be much younger than that," he chuckled. "Though I don't know for a fact."

"But what do you know about her?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," Steven sighed. "We met a long, long time ago, and she was always very... evasive about personal questions. Though she had her reasons, and I respected them," he added.

"And what reasons were those?" Bianca urged, feeling ever so slightly exasperated at her grandfather's vague answers, not to mention his complete lack of information.

"That's a story for another day," he winked as he stood. He walked to Bianca's bed. "Now go to sleep - you're going to be in tomorrow's Arena, right?"

"Yeah," she grumbled as she climbed into bed. "But what if I don't find her? Then what?"

"Maybe she'll find you," he suggested as he pulled the covers over her.

"Grandpapa, I'm seventeen years old, I don't need to be tucked in," she protested, squirming beneath the sheets.

He smiled softly. "But you're still my only granddaughter, and you always will be." He planted a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, my dear."

"G'night, Grandpapa."

Bianca snuggled deeper into her bedsheets as he rose and quietly turned off the lights before leaving the room. He hobbled down the hallway, but stopped before an assortment of pictures hanging up on the wall.

Steven took one down - a very old photo of a young man and his bride - and took it out from its frame. He flipped the photo over and smiled at the picture taped to its back.

"You'll find my granddaughter, won't you?" He whispered to the young woman in the image, grinning wolfishly next to a man with a much more reserved smile.

"Old friend."