The only things Ghetsis could do on his own were wake up in the morning, and go to sleep at night. Between those two activities, his life and daily routine were determined by the Shadow Triad. Eating, bathing, changing clothes; he was manually posed to do these things, bent like a rubber toy with bones of wire to simulate performing the most basic of functions. Occasionally they read to him, or kept him company while they flipped through various television programs.

They spoke to each other, and they spoke to Ghetsis, as well, despite knowing he wouldn't respond. They discussed their plan to battle the trainer responsible for his sorry state, and then begged his forgiveness for their failure. They discussed the day to day events occurring in Castelia, looked out the fortieth-story window of his loft overlooking the city. They maintained his new home and guarded the Plasma tower fiercely to protect him.

But they could not bring him back.

They accepted the possibility that perhaps he did not want to come back.

The former Team Plasma leader's life continued like this for weeks, until one day when the Shadow Triad left him sitting in bed after serving his breakfast, cleaning him up, and getting him dressed. That day, he sat on the edge of his bed, stared at the door through his lifeless eyes, and watched it open to reveal not the Shadow Triad, but a ghost from his past.

She no longer wore a cap upon her head; otherwise, she looked the same as she did two years prior.

She was the first person to ever defeat him in a Pokemon battle. Memories of her bright blue eyes haunted his every waking thought, invaded his dreams and turned them to nightmares. His capacity for evil, for murder, was reserved for her. She was the catalyst for his loss of sanity.

"Remember me?"

How could he forget?

She casually approached the empty husk that was his body, slowly lifting her hands towards him. For the first time in god knows how long, Ghetsis had a thought. 'Finally come to kill me, eh?'

He could not move, and didn't want to. She alone deserved to have his head, if anyone.

Then, ever so slightly, she nudged his legs apart with her hips, creating enough room for her body to press against his as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her slender arms around his broad shoulders. The pressure of this sudden embrace was not at all unpleasant and stirred a completely foreign emotion deep inside of him, in the back of his mind and the pit of his stomach.

He found himself incapable of controlling his arms as they rose to wrap around her torso and return her hug. The sigh she exhaled left tingles where her breath contacted skin.

Minutes passed.

Hilda shifted, gently nuzzling her head against his.

Ghetsis could not remember if he had ever been held like this before.

She walked him to the living room, but the steps he took were his own. No Shadow Triad needed carry him today.

Hilda insisted on brewing him tea. Something about its health perks, she said. She'd brought a few teabags and he didn't see the point in trying to stop her, even though he was now more than capable of doing so.

The whole situation felt so surreal; hundreds of questions swirled around in his head. Ghetsis thought he might be dreaming. His voice came out much softer, hardly recognizable.

"How did you find this place?"

"Your ninja dudes told me what happened," she called from the kitchen.

Ghetsis felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Such a way with words.

"You know, when I heard they busted you out of prison, I went looking for you," Hilda explained. "I thought, maybe if I found you before you could do anything drastic..."

He was silent until she appeared again carrying a tray.

"What would you have done?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted, setting a teacup and plate on the table for him. She rummaged through her bag and produced a half-consumed bottle of soda, placing it next to his tea, before plopping down beside him on the chesterfield. "Maybe I could've done something."

"You'd already done quite enough," he muttered.

"Drink your tea, old man."

He took a sip.

"This is terrible," he lied.

"It's bitter, like you." Not even a hint of anger colored her response.

Ghetsis felt her slide closer and took a few more sips of tea. Bitter, no...it was actually rather sweet, he noted.

"I assume my 'ninja dudes' helped you find your way up here, then?"

"Nah," Hilda said, "they wouldn't tell me where you were. I figured that out myself. Remember that time we met down in the lobby when your grunts took my friend Bianca's Munna?"

"Vaguely."

"Shit, I was hoping you would. That's okay. I've been in the city a few days and today I guess the Shadow Triad saw me out and about and cornered my ass. I beat them all and asked about you. They filled me in on the last year or so. Then I remembered this place was your old team's H-Q. Wasn't that hard to put the pieces together."

She was at his left side, thankfully, so he didn't have to turn his head; he merely glanced down at her.

"Why are you here?"

Hilda turned towards Ghetsis, saw that he was looking at her, and laid her head on his shoulder. Her bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly in a small pout.

"Do I need a reason to be?"

"Tell me," he urged. She sighed and wouldn't answer.

"Tell me," he asked again, this time more demanding. "You know better than most what kind of...person I am. You're being awfully charming towards a man who would strangle you to death. Why?"

"Why haven't you, then? If you wanted to kill me, you would have."

He pondered this for a moment before tilting his head back to drink the rest of his tea. Truly, he'd thought of nothing else for two years. He wanted to annihilate the haughty little wench who had bested him and ruined his grand scheme. But now this girl seemed nothing like the image of her he'd built in his mind.

"Hilda."

"Maybe I just like you, okay?" she finally sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's not that complicated."

Ghetsis did not understand at all, but he accepted this answer. Both of them relaxed into the couch. At some point, Hilda placed her tiny hand over his and curled up against him, sprawling her bare legs over his slacks.

In the afternoon, she suggested they leave the apartment.

Castelia was a bustling metropolis brimming with millions of people; no one noticed the odd couple weaving through the crowd of commuters. All were too absorbed in their daily lives to care that an easily recognizable (albeit retired) criminal mastermind brushed past them. Most of them couldn't even bother to look up at him.

Hilda stayed close. Ghetsis could walk on his own, and hadn't asked for her assistance, but she knew he limped and served as his support.

They managed to find a small cafe and sat down. Rather, Ghetsis sat down while Hilda ordered food and drinks. When she returned, she insisted on sitting beside him rather than across from him in the comfortable booth. "So hey," she piped up through a mouthful of pastry, "you talk to your son at all?"

"He is not my son."

"Right, you disowned him or whatever. So that day when I beat him and you like went off on him, you know, I think about it a lot." She paused to swallow her mouthful and lowered her voice. "I felt pretty bad for the guy, but I kinda wanted to high five you too."

He started to ask why, but she continued, "Well, no offense but he was annoying as shit. I wanted to tape his mouth closed pretty much every time we met. You managed to shut him up with just words and I think that's the moment I started to really like you."

Young women were absolutely unpredictable, and Ghetsis knew this; still, Hilda fascinated him! Hilda, who had been chosen by Reshiram, the Pokemon of Truth, openly insulted others the way he did. She was brutal and blunt in her honesty, spoke without filter. On second thought, perhaps that's the reason it chose her.

"I adopted N and raised him for one purpose. I thought preserving his innocence would make him unstoppable. You showed me that all my hard work was meaningless."

"I'm glad it was me, then," she concluded. "Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to battle you. Or see you get all pissed. You're pretty hot when you're mad."

Ghetsis nearly choked on his sandwich, had to bring his fist up to his mouth to hide his smirk.

"I am old enough to be your father."

"Oh yeah? How old are you?"

"Fifty."

"You're lying. You're like thirty-seven."

She was good. "I'm thirty-nine."

"Okay, well, I'm twenty."

"You're a child."

"No, you." She kicked him playfully under the table. Is this what normal women her age were like? Female Plasma grunts had always been on their best behavior in his presence; he wondered if they, too, were so impudent behind his back. He watched, slightly awestruck, as she scarfed down her third eclair-possibly fourth, he hadn't been paying attention.

"Your Emboar probably has better table manners than you do."

"At least I still have a Pokemon," Hilda muttered through her mouthful, refusing to tear her gaze from the table.

"Yes, well," Ghetsis sighed, "when they arrested me, they confiscated my lifelong partners. I was forced to reassemble a team of similar Pokemon to continue pursuing my goals, but nothing can replace time and effort in regards to training. I have you alone to thank for losing them."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him an incredulous look, as if to say 'Really? You're going there?'. Ghetsis immediately detected that he would never be able to manipulate or control Hilda, and this both unsettled and excited him. Now determined to upset her, he plucked the remainder of her eclair from her hands and popped it into his mouth with the impetuousness of someone a fraction of his age.

"Was that supposed to be revenge for your Pokemon?"

"You're not despairing over the loss of your precious sweets?"

She responded by reaching into her pocket and pulling out his wallet.

It occurred to Ghetsis that the image of Hilda in his mind as an incorruptible and arrogant child was indeed accurate, yet her blatantly defiant nature no longer infuriated him. Instead, a sense of mirth and adoration he typically only reserved for himself bloomed for her in his icy heart.