To Steal the Heart of a Thief {Pokemon Ranger Fanfiction} (Pokemon Watty Awards 2015)

Chapter 14: Opening Up

(Rena's POV)

...where's my mark?

I looked around the classroom for what must have been the thousandth time for Keith, but he wasn't in sight. What in the world...? Where is he?

"Hey, Rhythimi..." I leaned into the aisle, getting closer to Rhythimi's desk. "Have you seen Keith?"

Rhythimi continued to read her history textbook, not bothering to look up at me as she spoke. "Rena, it's Study Hall. He's probably just napping in the Library like he always is." She smirked, shooting me a sideways glace. "Why? You worried about him?"

I immediately balled up the sheet of paper on my desk and chucked it at Rhythimi's head, making her laugh. "Oh shut it." I stood up when I noticed Mightyena walk back into the classroom, and he was ushering me to follow him. "I'll...be right back."

Once I stepped outside the classroom door, Mightyena quietly barked and started trotting in the direction of the Library. I had asked him at the beginning of the study hall period to go check the rest of the campus for Keith, since I need to keep tabs on him at all times. I guess Mightyena found him.

I followed my Dark-type partner into the Library, and he pointed back at the table furthest in the back of the Library with his right paw.

"Thanks, boy." I reached down to pet his head affectionately. "You can go back to playing with Eevee now."

Mightyena excitedly wagged his tail, then took off bounding out of the Library and in the direction of Ms. April's classroom once again.

I quietly walked by all of the other students studying in the Library, making my way down to the very back of the Library. As I approached the back table, the sound of snoring became louder and louder. When I rounded the corner around the final book case, I found myself standing at the back table and staring down at a sleeping Keith.

He was snoring soundly with his head on a pillow set on the table that I guess he brought with him. Who brings their own pillow to the Library...? Ugh. No wonder his grades suck.

Suddenly, I noticed something.

Was Keith...twitching?

Keith was twitching in his sleep, mumbling a few words. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but his twitching grew more and more violent by the second. By the time he was jerking side to side in his sleep, I recognized he was having a nightmare.

Without even thinking, I quickly reacted on instinct. "Shhh..." I quickly patted his shoulder, and his twitching began to subside. "Hey, Keith? Keith, wake up."

"Ugh... Five more minutes, Mom..." Keith grumbled in his sleep, rolling away from me.

I just rolled my eyes. "I'm not your Mom, Keith. Now wake up!"

Keith suddenly jolted in his sleep, and I had a feeling his eyes snapped wide open. Keith immediately sat up straight and turned to look at me, sweatdropping a little. "O-oh! Uh...hey Rena... Eheh..."

I just rolled my eyes, then pulled up a chair next to him. "You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up."

"You're telling me..." He exhaled sharply, rubbing at his eyes. Keith dragged his hands down his face. "It was just that same reoccurring nightmare about my Mom..."

"What reoccurring nightmare?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

Is he finally going to tell me himself about what happened to his Mom?

"Oh." Keith cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. "Well, I guess it's about time I told you..." He turned to face me, staring into my eyes sincerely. "My Mom died in a car crash when I was ten years old. She was getting ready to leave for a charity event for raising money to send kids to Ranger School that couldn't afford it." Keith's eyes grew dark, and I could tell he was bottling up his resentment. "I had a feeling that morning that Mom wouldn't come back home that night, but I kept it to myself, thinking it was nothing. Later that night I found out she died in a car crash." Keith stared down at the table. "I've blamed myself for her death ever since. That's basically what my nightmare was about..." He grew quiet and balled up his fists tightly, refusing to say a word.