Control

XIV

Iris drummed her fingers angrily on the metal desk as she glared icy daggers at Black, who was wincing under her stare.

"Don't blame me," Black said, placing his hand to his chest, quickly defending himself.

"Too late; I blame you," Iris snarled, her Axew clinging to her shoulder, who was also staring at his Owner's husband. She then looked to the female with the curly, shoulder-length hair. "I blame you too."

"We didn't do anything," Burgundy responded, her Deerling nuzzling at her side, her eyes wide. "Honest."

"Weird, why don't I believe you?" Iris snapped.

Cilan hushed her, reaching over to pat her hand. "Iris, Iris," he scolded gently. "Don't blame them. They didn't know."

Darkened eyes turned to her best friend, and then she visibly relaxed. However, there were still signs that she was obviously peeved. Cilan knitted his brows, and nibbled his lower lip, skeptical that she had taken his advice. Her murky eyes were still on them, threatening them silently as her finger nails lightly scratched her thumb's skin. Both Black and Burgundy exchanged worried glances before slumping in their chairs. Black's Snivy nuzzled into his lap, looking away from Iris.

To the right, the door opened, and a uniformed woman stepped in. Her eyes were dark, her face slender, her body a perfect hourglass, but she looked cruel and cold—like a block of ice. She glanced between all four of them before taking her seat at the head of the table. She arched her fingers, dark eyes glancing between them before she spoke:

"Well, as you four know, these types of days are special. And why are they special? Well, they are special because for one, you don't have to work. And two, they are to spend with your spouses. Not with your friends," she said, glaring at Iris and Cilan, and the long-haired female shot a glare right back.

"Well, what's wrong with spending time with friends?" Iris said, a forceful mock-happy grin on her lips as she glared icily at the older woman.

The other woman looked back to Iris, her upper lip twitching. "Always talking back, aren't you, Iris?" she said with a smirk.

"It's one of my talents."

Cilan covered her hand with his own hand, and squeezed it gently. The uniformed woman glanced at the gesture, and continued to eye their hands before Cilan pulled away, feeling slightly uncomfortable by her piercing stare. Iris frowned, wanting to feel his hand on hers longer. She wasn't sure why, however. The older woman crossed her legs, took a pen from her breast pocket, and began to scribble something on her notepad.

"This will never happen again, am I correct?" she asked sharply, glancing up at Cilan and Iris.

"Yes, ma'am," Cilan muttered, turning away in shame.

Iris said nothing. Burgundy swallowed thickly, and reached up to play with a strand of hair. Black continued to stare at his wife, confused why she wasn't answering. Cilan nudged Iris with his elbow, and looked right at her.

"Yes, ma'am," Iris grumbled.

"And, while I'm at it, you are forbidden to see each other unless its work or you're being supervised," she said.

Cilan and Iris' heart skipped a beat.

"You can't do that!" Iris shouted, slamming her hands on the desk.

"Actually I can and I did," she said, clicking her pen again. "We've been looking at all the camera footage, and you've been spending way too much time together, so we're going to cut that. If we see you two together without our permission, you'll be punished."

"We're friends! You can't do that!"

"Sit down, Iris Rockwell," the woman snarled. "You can't afford a third strike, little missy."

Iris' nails dug into the metal, making loud scratching sounds. Cilan shifted uncomfortably, and he shook his head, begging Iris with his eyes to not make a big scene. She slowly took her seat, still glaring at the older female. The uniformed woman clapped her hands, grinning cheekily.

"Well, things went well," she said, quickly standing up. "You all have a nice day." The woman turned on her heels, and left the room.

There was a long awkward silence between the four before Black awkwardly cleared his throat. "I think we should go now," he whispered, reaching over to tap Iris' hand. "C'mon, let's go."

She glared at him, and he quickly drew his hand back. "Okay, okay," he said, reaching to pick his Snivy up, and placed her on his shoulder.

Burgundy stood up, and circled around to Cilan, who had a stony face. Pansage looked up at him, saddened that his Owner was not cheerful like he normally was.

"Um, we should go," she whispered, reaching up to touch his shoulder.

He did not reply.

"Cilan?"

"Fine, let's go," he snapped, yanking his shoulder from her touch, grabbed Pansage, held him close, and stood up from his chair, causing it to tip over. Iris was surprised by his actions; she had never seen Cilan act like this. He was always a gentleman . . . He looked to Iris, pain in his eyes, he nodded his head, and he left the room in a hurry.

"Um," Burgundy breathed before following her husband. She paused at the doorframe, nodded her head at the two still sitting, and scurried away; her Deerling following after her.

Iris was silent, and then she stood up, leaving the room—Black then followed her.

Burgundy watched Cilan, who was several steps ahead of her. A dark cloud of anger hung over his head, she could notice. She looked to her Deerling, and the Pokémon was not sure what to do for his Owner. Burgundy's hand dropped down, resting on her Pokémon's head comfortably, and she cleared her throat.

"Cilan? You okay?" she called.

He did nothing.

"Hey, Cilan?"

He turned his head, glared at her, and then turned his head to the front. Burgundy then hung her head, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry about your friend, Cilan," Burgundy called.

No reply.

"Look, I know you're close to her—maybe too close—but you have to forget about her," Burgundy said.

Cilan stopped in his steps, and his wife nearly slammed into his back. She gasped out in surprise, and stepped back, looking up at him. He whipped around, icy daggers in his usually bright eyes stared down at her.

"Excuse me?" he said, scowling down at her. "What did you say?"

Pansage looked at his Owner, and he jumped down from his arms, not wanting to be in the middle of the blooming fight.

"U-um, I said you should forget her," Burgundy whispered, eyeing him with an unsure expression.

"Forget her? Forget her?" he repeated, seething. eyes wild. "Why? Just like I forgot my family? Like I forgot my life? Like I will forget Pansage?" he screeched loudly.

People on the streets watched them, stopping what they were doing. Burgundy pressed a finger to her lips, and glanced around nervously.

"You're making a scene," she whispered.

"I don't care!" Cilan shouted. "Let me make a scene! I don't give a damn!" He snorted, gripped his fists tightly, and turned away from her, paused, and then returned to face her. "You don't understand. You can't possibly understand! She was my friend—no, she is my friend! And now, she's being taken away from me!"

"B-but, there's still work—you can see her at work."

"But that's only a few hours a day, and we can't spend any more time together," he said, hands slapping to his sides. "My best friend's gone!"

"You'll make a new one."

"I don't want a new one! I want Iris!"

Burgundy looked at him, eyes wide, and her hands were clutched to her breast. Her Deerling ducked behind her, ears flattened to the back of his head, and he was obviously scared of Cilan. Pansage looked up to his Owner, mute and still. Cilan stood in his place, panting heavily and his chest started to constrict. He glanced around, seeing all the people who were standing and watching the scene unfold. The bow-tie clad young man let out a deep sigh, and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Pansage?"

"P-pansage pan?" the Pokémon called, looking at his Owner.

Cilan cleared his throat, and patted his hand to his leg. "C'mon, let's go home," he called gently, albeit his voice was filled with fatigue.

"Pan," he called, taking his Owner's hand.

Cilan pulled Pansage up, resting the Pokémon upon his shoulders. His eyes were adverted from Burgundy's, feeling shamed and stupid all at once. "Okay," he whispered. "Burgundy . . . I'm sorry, um, let's go."

He turned on his heel, and quickly walked off. Burgundy exchanged looked with Deerling, who cocked his head to the side, looking up at her.

"Deerling deer," he whispered, ears flattened to his head.

Burgundy sighed, and started to walk, hands at her sides. Deerling stood at his place, shook his head, and joined his Owner. And from afar, Zarchin sat in a tree, completely camouflaged in the thick foliage of the tree, and he sighed.

"Oh, boy," he breathed, shaking his head.

Cress was going to break.

He was going to snap like a weak tree in a thunderstorm. He looked worse than he did before! Look at those dark circles around his eyes—it was like he was wearing a mask. His skin was pale like a piece of blank paper. Poor, poor, Cress—he looked horrible.

The horrors he had seen. He hated his job. He hated it more than anything. Cress looked at his reflection, staring deeply at it, and then he reached up, touching the mirror with gentle fingertips. He then sighed, hanging his head as his hair rolled over his cheeks.

"What's got you?" Chili inquired, staring at Cilan with a confused face.

Cilan lay on his bed, arms crossed tightly over his breast, a sour look on his face as he stared at the wall in front of him. Pansage continued to stare sadly at his Owner. The little monkey Pokémon nudged Cilan with his fat paw, staring at him.

"Pan pansage?" the Pokémon breathed gently.

Pansear blinked, cocking his head to the side. Swinging from the chair he was perched on, he landed on the bed that Cilan was laying on. He also nudged Cilan, but the human male did absolutely nothing. His breathing was low and steady, and the look he had on his face was a complete scowl.

"Pansear pan pansear?" the fire monkey inquired to the grass monkey.

"Sage pansage pan," he replied curtly.

Pansear seemed surprised, and his eyes widened. "Sear pan pansear sear," he stated, lithe tail twitching from side to side.

"Enough you two," Cilan snapped, glaring at the two Pokemon.

Panpour, who was on the other bed, shrank down, pressing himself to the bed covers. Pansage and Pansear twitched, staring at the peeved young man before they both stepped away from him, joining Panpour on the other bed. Cilan snorted, pushing himself into the mattress. Chili arched his eyebrow, and placed his hands to his hips.

"Damn, you're in a mood," he muttered. "What crawled up your ass in died?"

Cilan gripped his arms, fingernails digging into his flesh. "Could you leave me alone?" he grumbled, his eyes narrowed.

Chili stood there, staring at his brother. "First Cress and now you?" he said, running his tongue over his teeth. "Man, what's gotten into both of you?" The other brother turned on his heel, and flopped onto his bed.

Cilan really did not want to talk to his brother about what was bothering him. His eyes moved to Pansage, and he let out a deep sigh.

"Pansage," he called gently.

"Pan?" he called meekly, lifting up his head, staring at his Owner.

He opened his arms out, hoping that his Pokémon would comply and jump into his arms. Right now, he just wanted comfort.

"Come here," he whispered.

Pansage perked up, and leapt from the bed to the one Cilan was resting on. The little Pokémon crawled into his arms, seeking comfort, and he nuzzled closer to his Owner. Cilan sighed, hugging his Pokémon tightly, not wanting to let go. Panpour and Pansear exchanged looks, and both shrugged. Standing up from the bed, Chili moved to the bathroom door, and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Hey, Cress!" he called.

"Go away, Chili," Cress' voice hissed from the other side of the door.

"Oh, c'mon, others need the bathroom," he said in a low tone, his dark eyes staring intently at the door. "You're not the only one in here."

"I said go away!"

Chili stepped back, shook his head, and sighed. "Fine, be that way," he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. He yawned, stretched his back out, and rolled over his belly.

Cilan lifted his head up, staring at the door that opened to the bathroom. He blinked, looking at it for a moment before deciding to try to talk to his other brother. The young male stroked Pansage's foliage tuft, and lifted himself from the bed, approaching the door.

"Hey, Cress, are you alright?" he asked with a gentle tone.

"Go away, Cilan," Cress snarled.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Then why are you locked in the bathroom? You don't sound fine to me."

"I'm fine. Thanks for your concern, but I'm perfectly fine. So go away."

Cilan licked his dry lips, cocking his head to the side, and his hands slipped into his pockets. He snorted, shivered a little, and turned to leave the bathroom door. Why was he so different? What was wrong with him?

"Do you want to participate in the war, son?"

N glanced up, brush in hand as he smoothed out his long hair with his nimble fingers. "W-what do you mean?" he inquired, staring at Virizion, who was approaching his side.

"Well, I mean fight in it, son," he answered curtly.

"But I don't know how to fight," N said, arching an eyebrow to the Pokémon at his right.

"Well, then, that won't do, now will it?" he said, a grin forming on his lips. "Then you should come with me. I can teach you how to fight."

"You can?" N inquired, cocking his head to the side.

"Oh, yes," Virizion said, eyes closed and head erect. "After all, I am the best when it comes to teaching and fighting. How does that sound to you? You can help us lead, since you know your way around the place."

"W-well, when you put it like that," N said, his voice drifting as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Virizion blinked, staring at the human for a moment. "I'll let you think about it, son," he said, his voice brought down to a low tone. "Tell me when you make your decision, alright?"

N nodded his head, his expression distant as his hands raked through his long tangled mess of hair. "Okay, right, yeah," he said, his words drifting and slowly dying in his throat.

Virizion stared down at the human, bobbed his head, and turned to leave him in some solitude. N dragged the brush down through his hair, and groaned. Everything was happening so fast—it was so unreal.

Ssssk.

Ssssk.

He tried to be silent, but his hands wouldn't stop.

Ssssk.

Ssssk.

His fingernails ran along the inside of his palm, creating that stupid noise. Cilan twitched ever so subtly, and he let out a sigh. He was still down that he could not see Iris as much as he used to. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so glum. Cilan rolled over onto his stomach, trying to no disturb his sleeping Pansage. The moon's rays were peaking through the curtains, basking him and his brother in pale light. He twitched again, and rolled over to his side.

He couldn't sleep.

He growled softly, carefully moving up from his plush mattress, and shuffled over to the bathroom. Stupid rules, stupid morons in uniforms with sticks up their asses, he hissed to himself in his head. Taking everything I care about from me. First my parents—wait, parents? I have parents?—next Iris, and soon they're going to take Pansage from me. Damn bastards.

Cilan carefully opened the door, and stepped inside. Closing it with gentleness, and reached over to flip on the light. He sluggishly moved over to the mirror, and glanced up. Just then, he saw a face that was not his looking back at him. Startled completely out of his skin, he whipped around, eyes wide, the hairs on the back of his neck was erect, and he was going to scream. A hand clamped over his mouth, and the creature hissed.

"Don't scream," the voice said in a low tone.

The creature was a bipedal beast with a long mane tucked into a large bead with razor-sharp claws and was rather frightened looking (and somewhat cute in a weird way). Cilan was stiffened in the creature's furry arms, completely horrified. His hands were sweating—becoming clammy and wet to the touch. His eyes were completely enlarged as the iris became a dot in a sea of white. His hair on the back of his neck began stiff, and his skin shivered.

"Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you," the creature said.

Cilan tried to twist free.

"Cilan Bourgeois, I'm not going to harm you."

The human froze, staring up at the creature, and it then pulled its claw from Cilan's mouth, allowing him to speak.

"W-who are you?" Cilan rasped out, staring at the beast. "How do you know my name? What are you?"

The being erected itself to full height, and looked down at Cilan—its eyes stiff and unwavering.

"My name is Zarchin the Zorak, and I've been following you for quite some time, Cilan."