Just a short, ambiguous, standalone scene that I had the urge to write. It's not really a story as such. I just wanted to get something written and posted here under my new account – my main project is a remake and continuation of The World Is Not Enough: The Kanto Journeys, which you can still find lying around somewhere (incomplete) under my old penname, Kantaris.

Anyway, I'll let you decide who these characters are. Maybe they're someone. Maybe they're no-one. I don't even know.

The New Recruit

It was nearly midnight when I stepped out of the training school for the last time. I still found it hard to believe, even with that membership card in my hand. It was such a small thing, but it symbolised so much. It wasn't even the goal that had put me on such a high; it was simply the fact that all that time and effort, all of that hard work, had finally paid off. I knew I would never be the same again. I was a completely new person. At last, after all this time, I was finally somebody. I was a member of Team Rocket.

"Welcome to the rest of your life."

As I walked away, I heard a low voice behind me. I turned around but could see nothing except for a vague figure in the shadows, leaning against the wall, and a tiny but bright glow of orange that came from the lit end of a cigarette. It glowed brighter for a second as the figure inhaled.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"One of the fraternity."

I didn't understand what he meant and I stood still for a moment, shivering in the cold and feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Then, as I turned to leave, he rephrased his answer and I could hear an undertone of frustration in his voice.

"I'm a Rocket," he said. "I'm on your side."

"Oh." I was relieved. "Did you graduate today?"

He gave a low, dark-sounding chuckle. "No, I didn't."

"How long have you been in Team Rocket?"

"Too long."

I could feel my throat tightening as if in fear although there was no immediate reason why I should have been afraid. I had been taught how to defend myself. If I hadn't been competent enough, I wouldn't have been released from training school. I knew how to fight, even how to kill. I had been issued with a gun and I knew how and when to use it. Furthermore, I had been rigorously disciplined into keeping my cool. Nothing could scare me anymore.

"Never mind," he said, breaking the awkward silence. "We all get to leave someday."

"When's that?"

"When it's our time to go."

I didn't need to be a good reader of people or have any special sense of intuition to know that this person, whoever he was, was obviously bitter and jaded. I couldn't see his face but I imagined him to be past his prime somehow, maybe in terms of age or maybe in terms of his usefulness as a Rocket.

"Why don't you just leave?" I asked.

"Because there's only one way to leave Team Rocket, and I'm not ready for that yet. Not quite, anyway. Maybe soon."

I swallowed and pulled at the collar of my new uniform. It was stiff, most likely due to its newness, but suddenly it felt tight and restrictive.

"Do you mean…?"

"I mean what I said. There's only one way out, and it comes to us all sooner or later." After a moment's consideration, he added, "If you mess up, it tends to come sooner rather than later, if that's of any comfort to you. I hope you're really dedicated to the cause or that this was your last resort."

"What if I just wanted to join for the sake of it?" I whispered.

"Then I hope you really wanted it."

I could feel my heart sinking as if there was a weight tied to it. All I had really wanted was to feel as though I had made something of myself for once in my life. I know what you're probably thinking. There were so many other things I could have tried without resorting to crime. But I'd tried everything else. In school it had seemed as though everyone was good at something – everyone except me, that is. I failed every subject, brought defeat to every sports team that I joined and I couldn't sing or play a note to save my life. I couldn't even keep a friend, let alone a girlfriend.

Everyone always made me feel as if there was something inherently wrong with me as a person. One day I'd woken up and decided to prove them right. If I couldn't succeed at being good, at least I should have been able to succeed at being bad. And I had. Team Rocket had seen my worth and I knew it because they had made me a member.

But to be tied to something for life? That was something I'd never anticipated.

I watched the glow of the cigarette fall through the air and hit the floor before it was extinguished under the sole of a boot. The mysterious figure began to walk away and in desperation I called out,

"Please tell me that it's a good life!"

He didn't give me an answer. I suppose it didn't really matter. I had the rest of my life to figure it out for myself.