The electric lights of Kanbei's room were always dim, but that night they had been extinguished completely. Darkness clung to the corners of the chamber and hung from the arms of the heavy steel chandelier above. A single candle flickered in a corner of the room, providing barely enough illumination for the Warrior to see the paper he wrote on. Wax dripped down the sides of the candlestick and pooled slowly around its base, but Kanbei never noticed. His thoughts were focused solely and completely on his writing, never straying away even when a maid knocked on his door or when the floor trembled from another volcanic upsurge. The words poured from his quill as he frantically scribbled his way across the page, but not fast enough to capture the full breadth of his train of thought. The faster he wrote, the more ended up slipping away from his mind off to places unknown. Finally, Kanbei dropped the writing utensil in disgust, leaning over the desk and resting his head in his hands. He'd been on the verge of a breakthrough, of that he was sure, but the idea had disappeared before he'd been able to write it down. As it usually did.
A soft noise, like the sound of an iron lamp swaying in the wind, echoed from the ceiling above him and a faint blue light suddenly permeated the room. Kanbei glanced up instinctively just in time to see the ghostly form of his Lampent drift down through the wooden surface, spinning slightly as though in a breeze. "Where have you been?" Kanbei muttered softly as the Pokemon came to a rest over his left shoulder. The lamp simply made a gesture with one of the iron tendrils that served as its arms, while visions of the battlefield flashed through Kanbei's mind. Watching, the Pokemon said. Waiting.
But there was something else on the periphery of its consciousness as well, something that it attempted to conceal from Kanbei even as he sought to discover what it was. "And?" the Warrior asked, making no effort to hide his disappointment. The Pokemon floated away from its partner, intent on fleeing through the nearest wall, but a sharp mental tug from Kanbei pulled it up short. It fought the strain for a brief second, but upon realizing that Kanbei would give no quarter it gave in. Searching for him, it admitted mournfully.
Kanbei slumped in his chair, disappointment, anger, and sadness rising up all at once. "I've told you, he's not coming back," he said hollowly. "People don't follow the same rules as Pokemon."
The Lampent curved its arms above its head at the gesture, making a perfect circle with its head in the middle. Some do, it whispered in Kanbei's mind. Some have returned.
"And most don't," the Warrior snapped. "It's been a month now. He'd dead, Lampent. We saw them bury the body. He had no regrets about his life. Why are you still looking?" His voice was cold and disciplined, but the thoughts that spread to his Pokemon through the mental link they shared were a maelstrom of emotions – anger at his Pokemon for being foolish, anger at himself, and always the ever-present melancholy that threatened to swallow him. The ghost flinched under the barrage of feelings and drifted to the floor, bobbing in and out of the dark rug like a lamp floating through an ancient sea. Sorry, it said, the word ringing through Kanbei's head like the toll of a bell.
Kanbei cut off the emotions, forcing them back down into the depths of his being. "No, I'm sorry," he apologized, the words scarcely audible. "It's not your fault." The past he'd fought so long to keep out of his head was suddenly upon him and Kanbei remembered it all – the early warning signs, the coughing, the final sickness. How Hanbei had never seemed to treat it seriously, always waving off the illness as though it'd be over by the next day. "Just because you like Ghost Pokemon doesn't mean you can tell when people are going to die," he'd said in between coughs one day. "Besides, I like it this way. Lord Hideyoshi can't complain about me staying in bed all the time now." The mere memory of his brother's broad grin was almost too much to handle.
"You know, you can cry for me," a voice whispered suddenly in Kanbei's ear. The Warrior jolted out of his chair immediately, spinning to face the threat while his Lampent spiraled up from the floor, blue flames burning even more brightly. Both Warrior and Pokemon froze as they realized what they were seeing – there, sitting on Kanbei's desk as though it was a park bench, was Hanbei. "Hey, brother," the apparition said with a lazy wave.
Kanbei blinked. "What…?" he managed to eke out before confusion, relief, and shock welled up within him and shut down his ability to speak. His Lampent was similarly silenced, although it had a completely different feeling. I was right, it said with a triumphant air. I was right.
Kanbei's shock was enough to elicit a laugh from Hanbei – one that didn't end in coughing. "What's the matter Kanbei?," he said, slipping off the desk and taking a few steps forward. "You didn't think something like death was gonna keep me from bothering you, huh?" He glanced backwards at the paper Kanbei had been working on early. "I see you've been keeping busy. What's all this?"
The white-haired Warrior wasn't fully recovered from the surprise, but had enough sense of mind to snatch the paper off the desk. "You know I don't let you read anything I write," he said, stowing the white sheet away within the sleeve of his robe. "Now, how did you come back?" he asked bluntly. "And why?"
Hanbei's grin faded into a shrug. "You're the ghost master here, Kanbei," he said with a wink. "I just figured you could use my company. Otherwise you'd NEVER leave this room. Isn't that right Raichu?" For the first time, Kanbei noticed the spectral thunder mouse that was sitting at his brother's feet, lazily absorbing the conversation. It nodded enthusiastically at the question, mimicking its partner's wink.
"So you're here to haunt me?" Kanbei asked, starting to feel slightly annoyed. The irritation spiked when Hanbei gave a hearty nod. "And to keep you from getting too annoyed at Lord Hideyoshi, that is," Hanbei replied.
Upon seeing his brother's frown though, Hanbei's smile disappeared. "There IS a reason I came back," he said soberly. "You'd better listen though, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once." He paused to ensure that Kanbei was paying attention, took a breath, and continued. "You can't ignore life just because someone has gone out of it, Kanbei. I know you're all obsessed with death and ghosts and stuff, but seriously dude – get over it." A small grin reappeared on Hanbei's face. "And you've got your whole 'take over the world' plan to figure out anyways. You don't have time to worry about me."
Kanbei's face was impassive. "Hanbei, how am I to just forget you?" he asked, keeping the emotion out of his voice with some effort. His older brother opened his mouth to respond, but Kanbei's Lampent was faster. Do not forget, it said, hovering in front of its partner's face. Remember. And let pass on.
"What he said," Hanbei finished, pointing at the ghost. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He turned towards the nearby wall, walking towards it with the clear intent of going straight through. "This is pretty neat, you gotta admit," he said with a grin as he stuck a hand into the surface.
"Wait," Kanbei said, lurching forwards a step or two. "Is this goodbye then?"
Hanbei shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll be back," he said, eyes screwed up as though evaluating a mental list of things to do. "Just to heckle you a bit more. But for right now at least, there are more pressing concerns – like Nene taking a bath." With one final wink, Hanbei stepped through the wall and out of sight, his Raichu following close behind.
He'd only been gone a second when his head reappeared through the wall. "And bro?" he said. "I love you, man." And then his face slipped away through the wood and into places unknown.
Kanbei stared at the spot where his brother had disappeared for another few seconds before finally returning to his desk chair. Years of practice had kept him from ever uttering the words, but as he took his seat they floated to the top of his consciousness: "Love you too, Hanbei".