White Heart Black Bones

by OpenDoorLeia

The final battle was lost. Man and beast were separated, just as the boy had always dreamed. But, at what cost? As the years went by, the world grew darker and darker. But her heart was still beating. Can the White Princess and the Puppet King save the world they helped create? I wish I could tell you, but the towers are rising. All I know is that the world still needs a hero.

25. The Tales of Driftveil City Part Two

Chapter 25

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The Tales of Driftveil City

Part Two

---

Things returned to normal later on in the night once the Plasma guards had cleared out. The tension and the fear had all evaporated, leaving hardly a trace behind, like it had never even been there to begin with. Joy and happiness resumed and took its place, spurred on by one stocky lady who offered a free round for everyone on her tab. The 'normality' of The Nook returned.

A lot of people came over to me to ask how I was and if I was all right. Aside from being still a little shaken up and dry throated, I was getting better. Some of the ladies in the bar seemed to notice how ruffled I still was by the whole thing and tried to buy me a few drinks to calm me down. When I told them I didn't really work well with alcohol, they made Simon bring me some orange juice which I sat sipping out of a wine glass for half an hour. And I admit that really did help take the edge off.

And on the other side, instead of buying me orange juice, a lot of the men in the bar told me not to worry, and that they'd send those Plasma grunts running for the hills if they tried to bother me again. The reassurance was beyond comforting, and for me too the tension slowly began to leave.

On my fourth wine glass of orange juice I had a sudden important realization. I'd forgot to thank Winston! He was the hero of the hour after all. I set my glass down and drifted around the bar looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I was talking to a few people who said they hadn't seen him, when Simon called me over and told me he saw Winston slinking out a little while ago.

"You didn't stop him?" I asked, a little frustrated .

"It is not in my personal agency to move my patrons in or out of this establishment against their will," he chimed.

"Is…" I blinked at a loss, "Is that a company policy…"

"A personal one just as much," he beamed.

And that was the end of that. It made me a bit sad that I couldn't properly thank the old drunk for saving my bacon back there, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Like, what was I going to do, run out there in the dead of night and turn this town on its head trying to track him down? Not the best idea. So as the night went on, one by one more people steadily left the bar until it was empty. Exhausted and with a bit of a headache, I dragged myself to my room, passed out and slept like a log.

Like such a log in fact that I'd slept right through the following morning's trumpet and Charles waking up and leaving.

As usual I found Simon at the empty bar, wiping it clean—even though it already looked pretty spotless to me. Heck, I could even see my reflection in the wood.

"Yo," I greeted Simon, watching my reflection-self picking the sleep from my eyes.

"Miss Touko," he smiled. "How are you feeling? Well rested?"

"Yeah," I grumbled, taking a seat on a bar stool. I always found I could get a pretty decent sleep no matter where my bed was. Years on the road travelling the region did that to you I guess.

"I apologize for what happened last night," Simon said, folding his washing rag deftly with his index fingers and draping it on the wood. His eyes lowered guiltily to the floor. "I truly desired to help you from that soldier… but I… He could have…" his fists clenched and began to tremble.

"No, uh… It's all right. I… I get it… Besides, thanks to Winston everything turned out okay in the end… uh," I suddenly remembered the parting glare the red eyed soldier had given me last night. I felt a cold chill come over me and forced out a smile, "At least I hope. Anyway, about Winston," I looked around the bar, "surprised he's not already here knocking 'em back. From what you told me yesterday I got the impression he was a regular. And, I mean, more of a regular than a regular regular, if you know what I mean."

"Well," Simon began—looking relieved I didn't seem to resent him about what happened last night. It was all water under the bridge as far as I was concerned, and it's not like I couldn't understand where he was coming from. "He is a very regular regular. But while this is like a second home to him, he doesn't spend his every waking moment here as you would think."

"Okay," I started slowly, "that must mean that he's at his first home then. Can you tell me where it is? I want to go over there and say thanks."

Simon gawped at me like I'd grown a flaming beard, "B-but Miss Touko! I don't think that's much of a very good idea, especially after what happened last night! You can't just go wandering around town on your own! What if you get lost, or spotted by someone or… you're resolved to go, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Can you not simply wait until tonight?" he wondered.

"What if he doesn't show up though? And worse yet, what if more soldiers come to the bar again? Sorry but you'll have to handle sandwich duty on your own tonight. I can't be making any appearances while those soldiers are still on the prowl. So this is the only chance I have!" I looked at him desperately, "Please, Simon."

Simon looked down in thought. "Normally I'd say no. Charles has entrusted your wellbeing to me… but Winston's house is only down the street… and the guards only come out to patrol during the evening after the mining work has ended…"

My eyes lit up and I leant forward expectantly.

Simon sighed, defeated. "All right. I'll tell you. But I want you to come back within an hour, clear?"

I grinned brightly, "Yes sir!"

---

Winston's house was a bit bigger than I was expecting it to be. It was one storey, a kind of bungalow, but wide and roomy even from the outside. It had its own lot, not smushed together or crammed side by side like a lot of his neighbors. But bigger didn't always mean better… in this case I think it actually meant worse. The place was in just as poor of a condition—if not in even more of a poorer condition—than all the houses around it. The once-white paint of the house seemed to had been repainted at one point by filth; stains and smudges of dirt and… who knows what else… were caked and crusted across the face of the house, and it made me wonder if the back of it would be looking better or worse. One of the windows on the front was boarded up, and when I squinted to see I realized it was because the glass was broken. Inviting… wasn't the word I'd use here.

For maybe a little longer than I should have, I stood outside of the weird wire gate at the edge of the yard and debated if this was a good idea. What actually kept me from turning tail and booting it out of there was… just the memory. Out of everyone in that entire bar, he was the one who had stood up for my sake. And the image of him standing there alone, and the memory of his powerful eyes had just burned into my head. Was it that or the wind that made me shudder? I couldn't say.

With a bracing breath I hardened my resolve and told myself I would go in, find Winston, and say thank you! But first I had to struggle with this wire gate for about twenty minutes. This… thing… this weird tangle of wire. Was this a lock? Did Winston make this? How was this supposed to… and did this wind around here, or around there? Where was the…? Oh no… I didn't just make it tighter, did I? Heck—!

With that all said and done with, I held my head high and walked up the short dirt path that led right up to the front door. I noticed a bit of garbage scattered around the lawn, old cans, bottles—big shock there—plastic bags drifting like tumbleweeds, and there was even and old recliner chair oddly plopped over on the far corner of the grass. A small part of me wanted to go around and clean all of this junk up, but I had to ignore it—it wasn't really the priority here.

The front door probably used to be painted red, but was now a rotten looking brown. I spotted a doorbell and pressed it, holding it down for nearly a minute. I didn't hear any buzzing, so figured it wasn't working. Well, next best option is knocking. I tried… and then tried again… and then tried a third time with some extra rhythm, but nobody came.

I frowned, weighing my options. Well, as far as I was concerned there was only one thing left to do.

I put my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and it opened.

"…Hello?" I called, slipping slowly through the door as it creaked open. "Winston? Are you here? It's me… the Sandwich Lady. Although I guess you know me better as MONKEY EYEBROWS…" my voice almost echoed back to me through the darkness. I heard nothing else.

The house was dark before me, and unlit gray halls stretched into nothingness. I let myself in, and found a light switch by the door. When I flicked it… nothing happened. Another shocking development. The power was either dead or wasn't even being fed to this house.

I stopped before continuing my stroll into the darkness, momentarily overcome by a bit of hesitance. Now that I thought about it, anything could be lurking in that nearby gloom. I felt the fear building up, and for a second it almost took hold of me. Maybe it was luck or force of will that stopped it, I'll never know. I let out my tension with a sigh and looked forward. Fear wasn't going to get me anywhere here. And even if I felt it, I had to move through it.

So I walked forward into the darkness of the hall. Luckily for me the stroll didn't last too long before I noticed a left-right junction ahead. The door to my left was closed, but the one on my right was open, and it led right to a living room.

I stepped in and felt my foot knock into something hard. Jumping at the clinking it made, I looked down to see a pile of bottles clattering over and thudding on the stained carpet. I stared at them with a hand over my pounding heart. "What the…? Bottles?" and I was surprised it hadn't started a game of dominos by how many others there were scattered about the room. There were about a dozen more on the floor, empty and full, standing up or already tipped over. And they weren't just on the floor either. On all flat spaces, the tables, the chairs, even on the shelves I spotted a bottle or two at least. Not the kind of decorative choice I'd pick but…

"Ugh…" I picked up a bottle by my foot and spun around the mouthful of liquid that remained, cringing at the sight of floating cigarette butts among the brine, "Wow. Lovely."

I put it down and drifted in, maneuvering with ninja-like stealth through the bottle necked cities around my ankles. "This place could use a little bit of spring cleaning… although I guess it's not spring right now…" hearing my own voice in this ghost house was comforting somehow. "Huh? What's that?"

There was a table in the center of the small room right before the couch. The astounding thing about it—and what had caught my eye and had drawn me to it in the first place—was that it didn't have a single bottle on top of it. But it wasn't empty. There was a picture frame placed right in the dead centre of the table. Light from the far window peeked through the blinds and shone a glare on the glass, and I couldn't see what it was a picture of.

I stood frozen for a moment, debating on what to do. The right and proper thing to do here would probably be to leave and head back to Simon's bar to pass the rest of the day in whimsy, or whatever. But curiosity stopped me, and in the end… won me over. I reached for the frame and turned it my way. When the image greeted me… my breath jammed in my throat, and I felt myself go cold and numb…

This was…

"Hey."

My heart almost burst out of my chest and I wheeled around to find none other than Winston leaning at the living room doorway. He glowered at me from under his cap with sleep reddened eyes. "Thought I heard someone snooping around here. And who do I find instead of a ghost? Miss Sandwich Lady. Hate to break it to you but if you've come to swipe something, unless you're after bottles, there's not much you're gonna find," his voice rasped out heavy and worn.

I frowned, my hand slowly dropping from the edge of the picture frame. When he saw me move, his eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing near that? Don't touch it," his voice turned more serious as he came toward me. I stepped back as he swiped the picture frame from the table and pressed it to his chest.

I stared at it calmly, seriously, then looked him in the eye, "Who were they? The people in that picture…"

"That's none of your damn business," he growled, keeping his eyes down.

And honestly… he was right. It was none of my dang business, but. I remembered the other night what Simon had said to me. And remembering Charles coming home from the mines, and looking at Winston's missing leg. Those two people in the picture frame…

"Maybe it would help if you talked to someone about it," words came out of my mouth before I even really knew what I was saying, but somehow it didn't feel right to stop them.

Winston turned his back on me and shoved a few bottles aside on a shelf, placing down the picture frame with its back facing me. "Bugger off, would you? I've got no guts to spill, and even if I did, trust me, the sight would make your head spin."

"Maybe… it would help…" it was getting hard to breath with the dull reek of alcohol in the room. There was still a small part of me that entertained the thought of giving up and leaving but… If I left here… nothing would change. And would I be happy with that? Would either of us? "Spilling my guts to other people usually makes me feel a bit better, anyway… And I don't really mind about how gruesome it is. I might be used to it in one way or another."

He still didn't look back at me. "What did you come here for anyway? What do you want?"

"Oh…" I blinked. "I, uh… wanted to say thank you for last night. You do remember what you did, right?"

"I'm not that hung over, Sandwich Lady. And what happened last night was just common decency. Anyone could have done it, so it's no big dea—"

"I'm not Sandwich Lady."

Winston slowly turned around to look at me incredulously.

I tried to sound… I tried to look as resolved as I could. "I don't want you to call me that, or Tanya, or that other nickname from earlier. Because that's not really my name."

His brow scrunched, "What are you talking about?"

"Listen, you old fogey. You saved my life last night from that Plasma guard! It makes me sick to think what would have happened if you hadn't done anything. Somehow… I just froze. I just couldn't move. So even if what you did doesn't mean anything to you, it means a lot to me! So I'm going to help you out whether you like it or not, and if you won't spill your guts to me then I'll spill some of mine to you. My real name is Touko."

"Touko…" I could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't recognize the name. Or maybe he did, and through his sleep muddled and alcohol muddled mind and the rest of it just wasn't coming to him. Or maybe he was a little like Annie or Dorothy, with only faint memories of what the old world before Plasma used to look like.

Even if he was, and even if information was filtered, I knew at the very least he would definitely know what I'd done. "I was the one who lost to Team Plasma."

His expression dropped.

"All those years ago… when they invaded the Pokémon League… I was the one who challenged them… and lost." I held my hands tight together over my lap. The words were basically tumbling out now. I'd started it, I'd struck the match and it was already burning. May as well get it all out, show him all the guts and try to let him understand. Somehow… my chest felt like it was burning, but also, maybe… rising a little. "Their true leader, Ghetsis, was too strong for me. His Pokémon destroyed my own team… and nearly destroyed me. I was imprisoned… and locked away as Team Plasma started changing the world. Everything that has happened since then… the Dream Factories… the poverty, the control, the broadcast screens, the walls, these mines… I played a part in making it all real." I looked down. Tears refused to spill, but my heart ached in their place. "Those people in the photograph… your family… it's my fault that they…"

"You're stupid."

I blinked, slowly looking up into his face to find Winston smiling at me. "That's the most dumbass thing I've ever heard, lady, if what you say is even true. Part of me wants to write you off as a raving lunatic but, even a raving lunatic would probably have better things to do than to pull a fast one on a dead horse like me, right?"

My smile was shallow, "Don't say that…" but that was really the only rebuttal I had.

"Either way," he shrugged, "I'm not sure I believe it. But even if you are," his eyes suddenly turned serious, "you think it was a good idea just going out and telling me who you were like that? How do you know I'm not in cahoots with Team Plasma? How do you know that, if I wanted to, I couldn't just call em up and have em crowding this house in the minute, hm?"

Winston stared seriously at me, unblinkingly. And I stared seriously back.

"Because…" I began slowly, "I don't think any professional solider would actually use the word 'cahoots' unironically."

Winston sighed, "Look, I'm trying to be serious here."

"And, obviously, because you saved me."

Winston blinked up at me, and I tried to smile a little.

He scowled bitterly, "You know as well as I do that could have been an act or part of a trick."

My eyes drifted slowly to a dirt-covered window, "Maybe, but I don't think so. The way you looked at that guard as he was hassling me. At least to me, all I saw in your eyes was hatred, and the desire to stop him. And something like that, that strongly, can't be easily faked, as far as I can tell. So, you can stop trying to drive me away using that as an excuse."

He smirked wryly, "I wasn't so much trying to drive you away as I was making sure you were on the level. You're smarter than you look at least."

I frowned, "…what's that supposed to mean?"

Winston put one hand up in peace, "Not much. Don't think too deep into it is all, Sandwich Lady."

I pouted more, "You're… still going to call me that?"

"Either way," he said, ignoring me completely, "If you really are who you say you are, my former comment still stands. You're dumb."

"You're trying to pick a fight with me, I know it," I said flatly.

"No," he shook his head, "I mean about you playing the blame game. I'm still not sure that I really believe that you are who you say you are, but what good is going to come from you piling all the blame on your shoulders like you're doing. You played a part in making this all real? Shove that."

I smiled humorlessly, "I know. It doesn't make any sense. And I know it doesn't make any sense or do any good but… still there is some part of me that can't help but do it."

"I get it," he tilted on his crutch, "s'easier that way, isn't it?"

Easier? Yeah… maybe it was.

"So, if there's a part of you that keeps trying to put the blame on you, even when you don't want it to. I guess you just gotta keep tellin yourself that the fault isn't all yours. What, did you go out there and build those walls, those factories, those machines? Did you dig those mines and force the people into 'em? Beating yourself up because of an indirect cause might even be worse than being the direct cause of it in the first place," he made a face and stared at the far wall. He leant on his crutch, removed his hat and ran a hand through his coal black hair, "At least I think that is what I mean. Anyway, just keep tellin' yourself stuff like that and maybe after a while it'll get a bit better."

I smiled half heartedly. "I don't understand. Everyone knows what I've done, how I've lost, and yet… whenever I tell them how I feel… every single one of them says it's not my fault."

"Because it ain't. Well… maybe not entirely, but there are no winners in the blame game. I don't think they teach you that in school," he said with a dry smirk.

I couldn't look him in the eyes, but held the smallest of smiles, "I never imagined I'd hear someone from a town like this saying something like that to me…"

He shrugged, "What can I say? I'm a saint."

"But what about you?" I asked, looking at the ranks of empty bottles. I gestured towards the picture frame, "What about them?"

His expression hardened. "I don't talk about this… to anyone."

"You can tell me," I said, smiling. "It would do you good… to let it all out. Just like it did me."

He rubbed his chin scratching the stubble, "Something tells me you aren't a trained therapist…"

I made a face, "Well, neither are you and I just spilled my guts!" I faded as I noticed a strange look cross his eyes, and he looked away. A sudden guilt overcame me. Wait… maybe I really was stepping in too far. His leg… those two in the frame, this place, all of those bottles. I didn't even know this guy; I'd just met him yesterday. It suddenly felt so wrong of me to want to tread into his past… to slip my filthy, bloody hands to where they did not belong.

"I'm sor—"

"Alight."

I nearly froze.

"Guess it's only fair… though I've never much told anybody about this kind of thing before, not since it happened anyway. I've been trying to forget it, you know," he tugged the bill of his hat over his eyes.

"Well, look, you don't have to," I began clumsily.

He looked directly at me with something akin to the powerful look he'd worn last night. "You want to know more about the world you helped create, right? I'll tell you, but this is a onetime only offer. Feelin oddly generous today, lady." He picked up the frame he'd set on the shelf, hobbled on over to the couch and took a seat. The bill of his hat covered his eyes.

I walked over to the arm chair across from him, sat down and waited for him to begin. Well… if he was willing to tell me, and this was the only chance I had to hear it, then… he was right. I did want to know about the world I had created. I wanted to hear what his story was. And, looking around… I figured that his past was far filthy enough for my presence to pollute it any further. And, who knew, maybe I could shed a bit of light into this place in the end. I hoped a little at least.

Winston picked up the picture frame and stared at the faces inside fondly, all the age, dirt and depravity of his face was erased by a warm smile. "You kind of remind me of her a little bit… kind of the same look in your eyes that she used to have. A fire, you know? Not everyone has that. It's kind of a bit of a funny little irony that when I first met her a couple of guys were hassling her too. Bugged me even back then. At least that hadn't changed any… The only difference here is that she was the one who gave em a piece of her mind, and her fists, and sent em running. The rest is history after that I guess," His smile was fading. "I don't much remember what the world was like before Team Plasma came around. It's hard to picture life without them in it anymore. I don't remember when or how things started to get different… or even if I ever had any of those Pocket Monster thingers or whatever. My memories are pretty fuzzy thanks to all this…" he waved towards the bottles. "But even after drinking all this… I can never forget that day totally."

"Why do you drink like this then… if it doesn't help you forget for forever?" I asked.

He smirked crookedly, "Because even small fade outs are heaven." He rubbed his thumb against the picture frame fondly. "We had a daughter. She was the cutest thing you'd ever imagine. She had my sense of humor."

I grinned, "Oh, really?" I could only imagine that.

He smiled fleetingly, "Yeah." His look then turned to stone. "They shouldn't have been in those mines. No person should. I wanted to do it alone, if it was mandatory. I told them that I'd go into there and work for all three of us. I almost had Plasma persuaded, but she insisted. She knew that we'd never have enough credits to survive if all three of us weren't working." He put his palm flat on the stump of his leg. "There was a cave in. The blasts didn't go off right… and they were buried. I was caught up in it too… but I only lost my leg. Only the leg… only the leg…" his expression warped. "I'll tell you if there's a god in this world he must have a pretty skewed concept of fair play. Not a day goes by where I wish I had died in there with them… If there is any kind of devil in this world… I'd trade anything to bring them back." He placed a hand on his remaining knee, "Another leg? My arms? Body? Head? Take your pick."

I looked at all the empty bottles, at all his clearly displayed failed attempts at meeting a kind of devil.

"I was discharged from the mines because of loosin' my leg. I never have to go back there again, but… god… the things that lurk around in yer head are worse than anything else I could see in those dark, dark tunnels…"

I looked aside. "I can't say I don't know the feeling, in some kind of way…" Even this place seemed to grow a little darker.

"Booze is the solution," it almost sounded like a declaration as he placed the picture frame back down, as if it was painful to even touch. "Just keep on drinking until everything numbs on out. Don't have to hear anything, see anything, touch anything. All nice and blissful darkness. What could be better?" a sick frown crossed his lips. He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes, and fell silent.

And in that lingering silence, I suddenly realized the futility at having come here. I felt like I should have had words, you know? Like I could have said something to ease his heart a little like the way he eased mine. But what could I say? Buck up, Winston! You're stupid, Winston! None of that is your fault! And, of course, none of it really was. But I knew that even if I said it, repeating the pep talk he gave me wasn't bound to work the same way. But…

All nice and blissful darkness…

Darkness…

As I thought about it, I knew a little bit about what that was like, didn't I? In a place at the top of the world, in a place with no sound, no sight, no movement and no breath. To be numb to a point where nothing exists anymore. I closed my eyes. Yes, I knew what that was like, just a little bit.

"All nice and blissful darkness," I echoed. "There is nothing better. But that's just it… there really is nothing," I looked to the far wall, almost trying to ignore what I thought were tears running down his face. "But you've always got to come back to reality… because reality will always be out there waiting for you. Even if you don't want to come back to it," I clenched my hands, "even if coming back to it is painful."

He looked up at me.

I loosened my grip and showed the faintest of smiles. "But… reality doesn't always have to be painful. You know that reality isn't always painful either," I said, glancing at the back of that picture frame. "I don't know if the kind of god you're talking about exists or not, but even if it does, it's not just going to change everything for you—just wave its hand and make everything and all sunshine, Lillipups and rainbows you know. Because if a god did something like that… then you really wouldn't grow… or learn anything at all." His eyes were down again. I went on, "If the reality you find when you open your eyes is painful… then you're the only one who can change it. You need to do everything to change it. Even if it means giving up your arms, your legs, your body, your heart, your mind," my eyes dropped to my hands, "…your mind…"

I heard Winston… laugh.

I blinked, suddenly snapping back to attention. When I looked back up at him, Winston was looking at me with an actual… an actual smile.

"You do remind me of her a lot."

I blushed suddenly, "Wh… Wha?"

"You know, she'd probably say the same bloody thing to me. Kick my ass right back into gear. She always used to do that, I still have the scars to prove it," he laughed but it quickly faded as he looked back down at the table. "Heh. But look at me. Look at all this—the grand lineage I'll leave behind." He sighed, "It's so easy just to go backwards… always so hard moving forwards… Wonder if I can blame god for that one too."

"Not if you aren't alone."

He blinked up at me, "…Say what?"

I smiled faintly. "When I left the darkness… I didn't do it alone. You don't have to be alone either if you don't want to! You have everyone in this town to help you! And me too!"

His cheeks suddenly colored, "Whoa there, monkey-face! I-I hardly know jack about you, lady! We… just met…"

Some color came to my face as well, "Wow, dude! I didn't mean like that, oh my god," somehow… I found myself laughing. "I mean people like Charles and Simon, and everyone in the bar. Didn't you see how happy they were when you showed that Plasma grunt who was boss? Didn't you see them all smiling and congratulating you? I don't think any of them would be happy to see you living like this… to see what you're doing to yourself. I know I would never want to see anyone I cared about… turning into this." I turned my eyes from the bottles, to the picture frame and smiled at it, "So, instead you should try living for them, because I know they would live for you had it been the other way around. It's possible for you to change this world into a place that doesn't take the lives of others. At least that's what keeps me going."

He grinned and looked away, "I have no idea why you're doing this."

"Because I'm nice," he looked up to see me smiling, "and I think that maybe I could help things get a little bit better if I tried. Not just for you, but for everyone else too. And… I can't say I don't really know what you're going through, minus the alcohol and everything. I decided a long time ago that if I can change something in a little or big way, then I'll do anything for it. Even if I gave to give up everything that I am."

He smiled weakly, "Pretty noble, gotta admit."

I shook my head. "If you want to call it that, I guess."

For a brief moment he cocked an eyebrow, but it was quickly replaced by a sad and understanding smile. "I dunno, lady. To me it's admirable but… sorry. I can't do it."

I blinked. "What?"

"I'm beyond pep talks. Beyond motivational speeches. It all sounds well and good, doesn't it?" he didn't sound like he was berating me, or that he hated me, but instead his voice was filled with resignation. "But those are just words. Anyone can say them. They can mean the world or they can mean nothing, and both of those weigh about the same to me."

"But…"

"I told ya, didn't I? I'm a dead horse, lady. I don't really know if you are that terrorist who plans to save or ruin this world, but I could care less. You spilled your guts and I spilled mine, we stirred up the past a bit, but to me… nothing's changed. Not after all these years…" the whole time, he didn't look up at me.

I frowned again, thinking of both Dorothy and Annie, and the things that I had learned there.

"I'm sor…" I noticed how his lips curled in a frown, and I stopped. I'd gone far enough.

"Go waste your time on someone else. If you stick around with me, I'll only be dragging you down with me."

I wondered if that was true.

I took a breath and stood up, "I apologize for intruding unannounced. I know where the front door is." I turned to go, but stopped before I could leave the room. Winston hadn't moved. "Thank you for the other night." His head rose a fraction, and I saw a single eye from under his hat. His expression was flat, but it almost looked like a scowl in the shadow of his cap. I found a smile, somehow, "I know I said thank you before… and you're probably sick of hearing it now. But, just know, I'm glad you did what you did. At the very least, I don't see you as town crabapple anymore."

"Oh? What do you see me as now then? A rotten crabapple?" he smirked humorlessly.

"No… actually. If anything, I think you might just be a little bruised. Anyway… thanks…"

He lowered his head and didn't look back up again. I hesitated for only a moment before turning out the door, and with a heavy heart, left my savior behind in the darkness.

---

Knock, knock, knock!

…

Knock, knock, knock!

"Ehh, whuh?" I heard a thump from behind the door, "shit."

I cringed. Guess I'd woken him up after all. This thought was only reaffirmed when a familiar pair bloodshot eyes found mine through the crack in the door.

His already grumpy mug warped into a scowl, "Sandwich lady? 'The heck, lady? Thought I told you to take a hike yesterday." With a yawn, he reached up and scratched the hair under his cap.

"That's true," I said, holding a chipper smile, not bound to let his mood dampen or deter me. "Sorry, but I'm not here for motivational speeches today! Oh… WAIT!" I wedged myself between the door just as Winston nearly closed it in my face; he cringed as the edge of the door hit my leg with an unpleasant thud—but I kept on smiling. I had to. "You haven't even heard what I have to say yet!

The frown increased and he looked aside, the words "God, rid me of her" written across his face. Hated to break it to him but god wouldn't save him now.

"Yesterday, I noticed… well, it didn't look like you had a lot of food around so," I rushed the words from my lips and thrust a paper bag at him.

He cocked an eyebrow. "'Shit is this? Bread crumbs?" and he laughed shortly at his own joke. He took the bag from me regardless. When he rustled it open and looked at what was inside, his tight smirk completely vanished.

"Simon made them. I helped a little bit. I'm not the greatest cook, but I can throw together a few sandwiches at least. I couldn't be a sandwich lady if I didn't, right? Haha," it was my turn to laugh at my own lameness. Winston just kept staring in the bag with the blankest expression in the world. "There's some tuna in there, better eat that up fast," I went on. "Ham, turkey, I think there's a BLT too… uh…"

"Why?" his eyes narrowed to slits, and still didn't raise to me.

I blinked innocently, "You looked hungry, so since we had some leftovers, I thought…"

His eyebrow twitched, "Wait, leftovers?! I thought these were freshly made!"

I raised my hands in peace, showing that old million dollar Touko smile—gets 'em every time really, "They are! Not like they're weeks old or contaminated or anything, they were just some extras we didn't really need. You can still eat them fine!"

He matched my chipper smile with a 'are you serious' frown. "Still don't get why, lady."

My brow furrowed, "What do you mean? You looked hungry. What do you think I gave you these for? You're supposed to eat them!" I kept that bright smile. Something to light up the darkness a little bit.

The bag crumpled closed and he looked down, "I told you I'm not changing, lady. I told you to go waste your time on someone else."

"I'm not wasting my time on you!" I said to him, "You're right. I heard what you said, and I respect your wishes but… well, what can I say, I'm in your debt." I continued hastily at the look he was giving me, "I don't want anything from you but… it wouldn't be so awful if I just checked in on you now and again, would it?"

He looked away from my smile, "Fine, fine, whatever. You came here to do what you did, now get out of here already. Shoo shoo."

"Okay! I hope you enjoy them!" and he closed the door in my face.

---

Winston peeked through the grime and fog on the window to see the Sandwich Lady strolling away, looking carefree and upbeat despite how coldly he'd acted toward her. Looked like she was hell bent on this after all, for some reason he couldn't even begin to fathom.

Although, for some strange reason, he couldn't deny he was a little worried watching her go. She was staying with Simon and Charles, right? And they were just content to let her prance around town delivering sandwiches to people? What if more Plasma grunts happened across her again? What if she…

Wait… Why do I care?

Winston shook his head, hearing the paper bag crunch between his clenched fists, suddenly making him aware of it again. "Oh… right. This… thing."

He thought back to her words and to her smile. "It didn't look like you had a lot of food around, so…"

Well, she'd guessed right, that's for sure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something other than gum, booze and crackers.

"Eh, what the hell," he blew a carefree sigh and strolled into the living room, dropping on the spring-broken couch in front of the table; the only thing still remaining on it was the picture frame. The faces in the glass watched as he stared silently back.

'I'm not really hungry, but, I guess eatin these things is better than letting them grow moldy. If they are edible that is.' Rustling the bag open, he took out the first sandwich his fingers found. It looked good: wheat bread, white turkey, lettuce was crisp enough, if not a bit wilted on the edges. "Oh, heck, yeah, is that cheddar?" he was sold, and took a bite. With very slow motions, he chewed.

"Shit… this is really good."

---

"You're fine with watching things while I step out for a while?"

"I told you, for the tenth time, I'm fine! Not much of a chance of any Plasma guards showing up after closing time, is there?" I asked hopefully.

"Well, n-no, not usually but still," Simon's eyes wandered worriedly as he wrung his hands.

"I told you I'll be fine. I'll just duck for cover if anyone suspicious sticks their ugly mug in here. Besides, going to consult your stock with your suppliers is top priority for a business owner, right?"

"T-true. Plasma will get suspicious if I don't go." Simon's desperate blue eyes found mine, "But please, please Miss Touko, do be careful."

"I told you," I said, patting him lightly on the back, "I'll be fine!" I didn't think it was within my power to reduce this place to a pile of ash in the time he'd be gone—especially since I didn't even have Hyle with me. Besides, who'd come in here for a drink at ten in the evening anyway? Both townsfolk and guards knew that was closing time on Wednesdays.

Simon still looked reluctant, "W…well… if you're sure. I'll be right back, I promise!" and he finally got out the door and left me to my comfortable lonesome in the large and empty bar. I sat behind the counter on a high stool, dangling my feet and twisting the seat gently round and round. I let the dull hum of the heater and the fading lights lull me into calmness, and passed my time by analyzing the brush strokes on the old painting of a motorcycle on the near wall, trying to figure out which colors the artist had mixed to make that smoky blue-gray of the pluming exhaust. Coming up blank, I fetched a wine glass from the rack behind me and started fogging it up and cleaning it habitually.

It was times like these that I almost wished I'd decided to stay back at Cheren's base. I found whenever I didn't have anything to occupy myself, my mind would always wander back to Cheren and N. What were they doing right now in the deepest depths of Chargestone cave? Not like I could really go back there and find out on my own, even if I wanted to, so all I could do was wonder away. At the very least I hoped the two of them were getting along well enough, since I'm not sure if I would have called them the best of friends. Did spending time in a hole inside of a mountain make people grow closer or further apart? I guess that depended on the both of them. During the six or so days I'd been here I'd expected to hear some kind of message or news from them, but every time I'd asked Charles he'd said he'd heard no word from the Phantom…

"…I wonder how N's doing?" I asked the walls as I traced my fingers over the lines and knots in the wooden counter. A small smile tugged my lips, "Hope he and Cheren are getting on well. Hope they're letting Hyle and everyone out to breathe too…" Absently, I looked upward. They would be fine, right?

Then the door opened. The ker-chunk that I'd grown so familiar to over the past few days nearly scared me out of my skin. Someone was here!? But who!? Another town drunk? Team Plasma!? Oh no… what if it was…. Ghetsis!? There's no way I'd be serving HIM any wine glasses full of orange juice. My mind leapt to all kinds of conclusions as I watched the door slowly creak open, and in the heat of the moment I even believed the outlandish ones.

I watched, frozen, as the shadow slowly crept through the doorway, closing the door behind them with a gentle chime. Well if they were a monster they had good manners at least. They paused there in the gloom for a moment of hesitance, and then steadily walked forward and came under the dull glow of the overhead lights and made themselves clear. I stared at him levelly, unblinkingly, without moving and without saying a single word. I don't know if some kind of surprise crossed my eyes—I tried not to let it show on my face, but who knows how well I made out with that. But if I did look surprised in any way to see him, he didn't say anything about it. Instead he just hobbled over to the bar counter and took a seat. Neither of us said anything for a while. I didn't count the seconds that passed, but to both of us it must have felt almost like a never ending silence, at least in those few moments.

I smiled, "You know I can't serve you alcohol, right?"

"I know," and I was surprised to see him smiling too as he looked up at me. "That's why I came to you." His eyes were warm, and shining… and for some reason… he looked so young. I could see he wasn't here for teasing or fighting today—or at least I hoped.

"Okay," I kept my voice soft. "You know it's passed closing time, but since I hear from Simon that you're a regular regular, I guess I'll let it slide just this once…" I thought about adding 'and any alcohol you want will be double price next time', but decided to save that one for later.

With an almost kind of flustered nod, he looked back down to the counter where his hands were folded, eyes once again hidden by his old, green cap.

I wasn't bound to let another silence wedge its way between us, "So, er, uh, how does an orange juice sound?"

"Yeah… fine."

"Right away, sir!" I quipped and headed toward the kitchen, arriving back moments later with a fresh glass of juice and another plate of leftover sandwiches. "Thought you'd be hungry." It had been a day or so since I'd left him those leftover sandwiches, and I wondered if he'd eaten them all.

"Yeah, thanks," swiftly he grabbed the juice, and to my surprise before I could stop him, he knocked the entire glass back. My tardy words of warning were drowned out by his abrupt wave of coughing and sputtering.

"Dude, what the heck!" I shouted, reaching over to pat his back. "It's orange juice, for crying out loud! You're not supposed to neck it!" he kept on coughing. "Are you all right? You're not choking, are you? I don't know how to do Heimlich maneuver!"

He waved his hand in front of me, uncurling and looking up at me with a smile which made me think he thought I was stupid. After a bit more coughing—and after a few more sips of a glass of water I fetched him this time—he finally calmed down. "Wow, that shit went down the wrong way, whoo, haha," he cleared this throat. "Heimlich is for when something gets lodged in someone's windpipe, lady."

"Oh… uh… yeah, well, by the sounds you were making, thought you were dying or something," I huffed, looking away.

"Haa, yeah. Not used to drinks this sweet. More bitter and carbonated, you know?" another good natured laugh passed his lips.

"Yeah," I didn't know why I was agreeing with him. Spur of the moment, I guess.

"Not a bad change of pace, though," a faint fond smile was on his face as he looked aside, like there was something interesting at the far end of the bar. "No more booze at home… headache is only starting to come on now…" he looked tired, worn. I wasn't surprised.

I looked back down at the counter, suddenly sheepish.

"So," it was his turn to break the second looming silence. I looked up, and his cheek was propped on his hand. "Where do you come from?"

"Eh? Oh. Nuvema Town. That's where I was born, anyway."

"Hah, way out in the boonies, eh?" he took another sip.

"Hey, Driftveil is hardly the big city either, you know," I shot back, smirking.

He raised his glass, "Got me there. So, any brothers or sisters?"

"Only child."

"That must have been nice," he said with a smirk, "With your mom?"

"Yep."

"Dad?"

I looked away with a small, carefree shrug. Winston seemed to read the weight of this small motion, and somehow picked up on the sad flicker in my eyes. I noticed it with the surprise in his. "He's… not around anymore."

"Excuse me while I insert my foot in my mouth, eh?"

"Nah," I laughed, "I don't mind. It happened a long time ago. I'm long over it…"

He swirled his drink, "That's admirable."

I shrugged, "Maybe."

Another silence was about to settle. It seemed to be ever circling, didn't it? Just like a Mandibuzz.

"So, uh, lady…" Winston's tone of voice perked inquiry, and when I looked to him, his eyes wandered nervously and he seemed to be looking for a starting line. What did he want to ask now? "If you are who you say you are, you got one of those… like, pocket monster things, eh?"

"Ha! What are you, from the days they used to use apricots? I don't think I've ever heard anyone actually call them that before. Just call them Pokémon, and yeah, I have a full team of six."

His eyes brightened, seemingly unbothered by my kidding—actually he probably didn't know what apricots were. "You do, eh? I don't think I had any of those things with me even before Team Plasma sank in their fangs. Do you have them with you? Can I see them?"

"Uhh," looking aside, I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly, "No, sorry. It was too jeopardizing to have them on me while I was here. They're with my friends outside of the city right now."

"Ah, shame," he looked down, knocking back the last gulp of water.

I smirked, "They're all a bit fearsome. Not the kinda creatures you can bring with you on an undercover mission."

"Can you tell me a bit about them? Must be neat havin those things on ya. Must be able to do all sorts," he set his sights on the sandwich tray. I wondered when he'd get to that.

"Yeah, the power of Pokémon in the wrong hands can spell big trouble. But after you spend years with them, fighting with them, traveling the region with them, you really see… so much. There are happy moments, like when you win battles, or my favorite, when you take down a tough Gym leader after a whole week of training, haha" he smiled with me, seeming interested in each world. His smile was nice, looked good on him. "But there are sad times too… you can't catch them all… sometimes you lose, and you really fall down hard. You make friends, you make enemies. You learn to trust each other and you become closer than even friends."

"Sounds tough, but worth it, eh?"

"Second hardest job in the world after being a mother," the both of us broke out in laughter.

"Won't fight ya on that one, lady," he said, raising an empty glass in declaration.

I hatched an idea, why not have some fun. "I would know anyway, since I have two children."

His expression didn't change, "Good thing you didn't drop that on me while I was eating, then you really would've had to pull a Heimlich."

"Don't joke about that," I despaired at the thought. I hadn't the first clue what to do; I'd be useless.

"But two kids and a full team of six Poe-kee-mon huh," he looked wistfully up at the ceiling. "Dang you must have had a time travellin' round the region and winning Gym badges, huh."

I blinked, "No, uh," I had to laugh. "The kids, Terrance and Piper, I only ended up meeting the both of them recently in Castelia. It was actually a friend of mine who'd found them and brought them to us uh…" I noticed the sudden questioning look in Winston's eyes and I'd just realized what I'd said. Found them…

I looked down, fiddling with my fingers. "I don't know a lot of the details but I think their parents were a little bit like me, as far as our goals and what we wanted to achieve is concerned."

"I see," Winston stared at the motorcycle painting. "Dreamers and dare-ers. I guess you gotta be at least one of those if you want to change the world."

"Those kids gave me a reason too. To want to keep fighting. To want to change things. When I show them my Pokémon their eyes just light right up," I clenched my fists, "They smile so brightly… and my Pokémon are smiling too. And they laugh… and this feeling in my chest… it's…"

"Do you really think you can do it?"

"Eh?" I blinked up at him. Winston stared at me heavily over the lip of his glass, looking a little more like the man who saved me from the Plasma soldier that night. Those burning eyes silenced any word that could have risen from my throat.

"Do you really think you can save the world?"

That's what I was here to do, wasn't it? Somehow I found it in me to speak, "I really don't know. When I left Team Plasma's castle, I really thought it'd be as easy as just coming down and kicking all their asses," he gave a terse laugh at this, "But… that wasn't my reality. Which each city I've gone too, and each person I've met… I've learned something new, and seen the world in so many different colors and perspectives. I still tried, and maybe I am still trying to save the world with my 'beat up the bad guys mentality' but… it's…"

"Never as easy as in the fairy tales."

"It's like a wall…" my voice came out hollow. "A wall separating people and Pokémon. A wall separating us from how the world should really be. I keep… smashing my fists against it as hard as I can… but no matter how hard I hit it… I see dents… I see craters but my hands are also… completely red."

Winston didn't say anything to me. I guess for once even he was out of witty quips and one-liners. That was a little refreshing, I thought. Just a little.

"It's… difficult," my small words edged through the silence. "It makes me want to give up a lot of times. But when I think about Terrance and Piper, and my Pokémon, or… places like this even… I feel like it gets a little less painful. Because this place is…"my eyes rose to the faded boards, and the dull lights where flies gathered. "Beautiful… isn't it?"

I didn't look back down.

"…yeah… yeah it is," my heart tightened at the sadness in his voice, and even more at the sincerity in it.

"I don't know if I can save the world, or if it's really my right or burden to do so… but if I can do anything, anything at all… I want to…" his head was on the counter when I looked back down. "Eh?" I blinked and leant over him, trying to see his face from under his hat. No way he had… "…passed out…" Was I really that boring!?

"Jeez… that's not polite…" In the silence… I decided to take a closer look at him. It was weird. The lines on his face seemed to have smoothed out. His brow no longer scrunched in its semi constant half-scowl. He looked so peaceful. So young.

So, without anything else to do, I just watched him for a long time as he kept on sleeping without a sound.

---

"Is he still there?"

I peeked around the corner and found him right on the couch that I'd dragged him to last night. "Sure is."

"Better go wake him up," Simon called back. "I'll brew some tea, and ask him if he'd like to stay for breakfast."

A smirk tugged on my lips; that'd been my plan from the start. But the problem was…

Snores rocked the room, vibrating under my feet and making my ears hurt. Dang, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd been able to hear this from outside, around the corner and down a few streets. Even Hyle didn't snore like that! I crouched down beside the couch and watched him for a moment, going over my plan of action. Drooling and with limbs sprawled, he didn't look as… er… peaceful as I remembered him looking when I'd left him there last night.

I poked his cheek, nearly flinching at the prickliness of his stubble. What a neat feeling that was. But he didn't wake up.

"Winston." Poke.

"Winston." Poke.

"…Winsty!" Jab!

He snorted. Hey, result!

"Are you awake? Can you hear me? Up and at'em soldier! Time to face the day! I want twenty laps around Driftveil, let's go!" he groaned in response and threw his arms over his eyes.

"The shit… Sandwich Lady…?" brittle words dragged from his lips, "Where the flip am I?"

"Pearly gates," I didn't miss a beat. By my tone, I think he almost believed me.

I was expecting a joke, snide remark "You're no angel, lady." But he only groaned, and I immediately sobered. "Hey, are you okay?"

His deepening frown said more than words could.

My stomach sank, "Don't try to move much! Are you going to throw up!?" Maybe giving a tray of sandwiches to a drunkard wasn't such a good idea, especially if he was coming off the alcohol for a night.

"Don't say it," he cringed, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

By the time I returned with the bucket, he'd righted himself but was hunching over horribly, with his face pressed deep in his hands.

"Are you all right? Take slow breaths, okay?" I set the bucket down silently at the end of the couch. He didn't respond, and I slipped out of the room a moment later. He was the same when I came back.

"Here," I offered him a steaming mug.

Blood-shot eyes peered over his fingers. "What is it?"

"Tea," I answered simply—service with a smile. "Simon says it helps hangovers. Worth a try. It'll make you feel better! Or, at least it can't make you feel any worse, right?" I brought it closer.

For a few seconds he remained still like a statue. I didn't press. I wasn't going to force it down his throat if he didn't want it. Just when my hands were starting to burn from the mug's heat, he reached up and took it from me. I felt his trembling fingers brush against mine for just one second. By how much he was shaking, I was worried he might drop the tea, and my hands lingered cautiously as he brought it closer to his mouth. With a bracing breath he seemed to make an effort to try and steady his shuddering, and took a small sip of the tea.

He lowered the mug, his expression flat. "It's good." By the sudden calm that grew in his eyes, I figured that tea must have been working its magic.

"Drink it slow. This isn't the kind of drink you should knock back either you know."

He smirked at this, "Yeah, I learned my lesson." His voice came out so hoarse that I nearly flinched. He looked around, "Did I pass out here last night? Don't tell me you dragged my ass all the way over here and threw me on this couch."

"Yeah, but it wasn't too much trouble. You aren't as heavy as you look."

He snorted at this, "Yeah, you're muscle beach, I can see." I liked how he was playing along and trying to keep the mood upbeat, but I couldn't help but notice how the mug he held was still slightly trembling. And he noticed me noticing. "S'what happens." I jumped, not even really realizing I'd been staring. "This is what the fall is like… ugh… what it's like when you come off the drink. Your body is so used to it by then, ya know," he sniffled, "tea is helping though," he murmured the afterthought.

I tried to keep my smile. "I don't know much about it, but maybe some breakfast would make you feel better too?"

His one eyebrow rose.

"You're invited. I think we're having bacon and eggs. You can't say no to that, can you?"

He opened his mouth.

"Oh come on! Don't you dare say no!" I shot out before he could speak. He blinked at me in wordless surprise.

Instead of responding, he took another slow sip of his tea.

"I don't… want to intrude, lady," he began.

"Then don't think of it as intruding on me, but intruding on Simon and Charles," I beamed, "Besides, they're the ones who invited you. I'm just passing on the message really. But Simon is making a pretty big breakfast in there. Can't you smell it now? Sure smells good, whoo. What are we going to do with all this food? I don't know if we'll be able to eat it all! But we just can't waste it! Oh nooo…"

"All right already, all right," Winston waved his hand, annoyed. "I get it already, yeesh. I'll stay for your hecking breakfast if you want me to stay for your hecking breakfast, okay? So you don't gotta worry bout me crawling back to my humble little abode and picking cracker crumbs off the carpet to eat like I usually do."

I blinked, "…you don't actually do that, do you?"

He sneered and took another sip of his tea. "And I certainly can't deny that smell wafting through the walls is awfully tempting. Well if Simon makes breakfast as good as he makes his sandwiches, then I'd be a fool of a man not to join the fun, right?"

He was ignoring me… Before I could call him out on that, he heaved himself up from the couch—not stumbling to my surprise—grabbed his crutch and hobbled to the kitchen.

He cast a look back at me over his shoulder, "You coming, lady? I got a feeling out of all of us you're going to be the one eating the most leftovers!"

I chased him to the kitchen door with my fists held high.

---

What an annoying sound the skritchy skritch of utensils against porcelain was. Though I suppose it's something made infinitely more annoying when it's so quiet that it's the only sound you can hear. That, along with the crunch and crack of chewing food—even though it seemed we were trying to muffle it—was enough to drive me near insanity.

When Winston had been invited to stay for breakfast, I never thought the atmosphere would be this heavy. I looked to each one of my breakfast companions, but all of their eyes were downward, or glancing absently around the room in pretended preoccupation. Only occasionally did we glance toward one another, and even then we seemed to be avoiding direct eye contact. Winston's seemed to be the only one who looked indefinitely downward, and he ate slowly.

I didn't get the vibe he was unwelcome here, it's just that no one really knew how to break the ice, and I don't think Simon and Charles were acquainted with the old drunk aside from him being a regular regular. With my fingernail, I scratched at the grooved leaf pattern on my fork anxiously. I needed to get something rolling here. Say something. Say anything.

"I like eggs."

All three men simultaneously stopped eating and turned to stare at me.

I could only blink.

Charles shrugged his burly shoulders, "I like scrambled the best myself."

"Really? But aren't they a bit too plain that way?" I replied.

"Not when you do this!" Charles said, seizing a bottle of hot sauce from the middle of the table and proceeding to squeeze nearly all of its contents on his eggs. Winston, Simon and I all watched in varying levels of awe and horror. Then, with reckless abandon, Charles shoveled the scrambled eggs into his face, chewed, swallowed and beamed at us all. "Manly!"

I blinked at him blankly, regretting having spoke up in the first place. Well, that was one way to make them… manly… I supposed. Or at least burn your insides, whatever floated his boat.

"I… I happen to like sunny side up the best!" Simon quipped casually, as if Charles had not done what he had just done, "They… just look so cheerful that way, don't you think so?"

I tried to ignore Charles still tucking in to his eggs, "But what happens if they get all crusty around the edges? I've had that happen to me sometimes…" I frowned.

"That doesn't happen if you cook them in the correct way!" Simon shrugged off expertly.

"Hard boiled is my favorite!" I began.

"In between hard and soft."

All of us turned.

Winston looked up at us meekly from under his worn cap, "Hard boiled is the best when it's in between hard and soft. Slightly runny…"

"But not too runny!" I finished, "This guys gets it!"

With a harrumph, Charles leant back into his seat, crossing his arms, "Too much egg pealing for me. That's not man's work."

"He only says that because he can't peel them without breaking the egg, oh ho ho," Simon laughed cheerfully.

"Untrue!" the old biker blurted back, face nearly flushed. "Okay, well maybe that is true. Either way, eggs'r not important when talking about breakfast!"

"They're not?" Simon and I said together.

"What is then?" I wondered aloud. "Cereal?"

"No! Bacon!" Charles picked up a strip of his own, "You go burnt or you go home!" and devoured it mercilessly.

"Ew," I stuck out my tongue.

"Way too crunchy that way. If it's burnt too much then it can lose its flavor," Winston remarked casually, like he knew what he was talking about.

"The flavor's in the burntness!" Charles mumbled back, to which he received a chiding pat on the shoulder from Simon.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Simon reprimanded without even looking at him.

"It's gotta be the right amount of crispy…" Winston went on.

"Black around the edges!" I finished.

I saw the old drunk smirk, and without looking my way, he rose a fork in acknowledgement, "This girl gets it."

I had to laugh; we were on the same kinda wavelength, weren't we. Who knew.

"I… um… I always liked it a little undercooked," Simon said, raising a floppy piece of bacon up on his fork. We all blinked at him in varying levels of disgust. "It's chewy that way!"

The silence that followed was broken by our laughter, which may have even been even loud enough to shake the foundations of the house. That's what it felt like to me, anyway. What a nice sound that was, I thought. It's a sound that… you don't really realize how nice it sounds until it's the only thing you can hear.

---

"I'm off, then. Take care of the house!" Charles said, geared up in his work wear as he exited his room.

"Take care," I shouted without looking up as I scrubbed the dishes in the sink. I wanted to try out some of the methods I'd seen Dorothy use. Maybe I wouldn't be strong enough to succeed like she did until I had some of her mother powers though. Or maybe being a mom to my Pokémon team did count? Time to find out.

"Um…" I turned to see Charles passing by Winston on his way to the door. The old drunk's eyes were down, and he seemed almost embarrassed. Charles stopped, and waited patiently for him to speak.

"Er… thanks… for inviting me for breakfast, er," nervously, he pulled his cap down, "you didn't have to go out of your way to do that. Eh… sorry for imposing on you or anything…" Whatever more he could have said was cut off by a smack to the shoulder. Winston nearly dropped flat onto his face but managed to stop his fall with his crutch, and he blinked up at Charles bewildered. The old biker flashed a million dollar smile.

"What are you apologizing for!? Don't you know? You're welcome here any time!"

I'd never seen Winston looked so shocked in the short time I'd know him. "But… why?"

Charles blinked, "That's a weird question. What do you mean 'why'? It's because we're family! Neighbors! Brothers in arms! All the same thing really. What's important is that we've gotta look out for each other when it counts! That's what humans do!" with another departing pat on the shoulder, Charles blew by the shell-shocked man and right out the door.

I watched him go. Winston simply remained where he was, hunching on his crutch. I turned back around and finished washing the last of the dishes that were left, and set them in the strainer to dry.

"Hey. You planning to stand there all day?" I asked after drying my hands.

"I'm headin back home," he said with a sniffle, adjusting the bill of his hat once again.

"Okay," was all I said as I watched him go.

However, before he left out that door, he stopped and said to me, "…Hey, Sandwich Lady?"

"Hm?" Somehow, I was getting used to the name. Well, he could call me whatever he wanted. I might have even been okay with Monkey Eyebrows again… well, okay maybe not.

At the door, he remained half-turned towards me. I could see his eyes now, "I don't know if you can really do what you're here to do. I don't know if change will be a good thing for this town or not. But… good luck anyway."

Maybe there could have been something big or impressive I could have said back to that. In the moment, nothing really came to me. But the warm feeling growing in my chest really made me smile.

"Take care of yourself," his words, as he walked out the door, were more tender than I'd ever heard from him before. But in them I also heard passion, fire, a feeling that reminded me a little bit of how he looked when he'd saved me from that Plasma soldier that night.

"Yeah, you too," I smiled and went back to finishing up washing the dishes as the dull morning light poured in.

.

.

like an animal

.

The sun rose on a surprisingly bright day. The gray haze that had been blanketing the town almost all week decided to clear away, at least for a little while. I could almost say that it was crystal clear—almost. Aside from a lonely roaming cloud or two, the black smoke lines from the factory still hung in the sky; it didn't even look like they were moving, like they were part of a painting or etched into the sky. I watched those deep black lines through the dirty windows of Simon's kitchen as the trumpet call summoned the workers, and they all marched off to the mines.

I wondered what they were thinking as I watched their backs disappear. Had Charles' words reached them? Had he spurred their hearts? Were they a little like Dorothy or Winston, or were some of them like Cheren too? Could they feel the building tension in the air? Could Team Plasma feel it too? Little by little our fire was growing, wasn't it?

On clear days like this, I always found it hard to keep still. The only thing I really had to occupy myself was helping Simon clean up the bar, and he did a great enough job of that on his own that he didn't really need my help. But I had to insist. I pushed all the chairs in and straightened up the tables, and then I stood behind the counter and started fogging up glasses. Even if he cleaned this mug twice already, I felt it wouldn't be bad for me to go over it again just a few more times… even if my wrist was starting to hurt a little because of it.

Half past ten, someone rolled in. I looked up and smiled as he limped over. "You know I'm not going to serve you, right?"

"Then what are you doing behind the counter?" Winston asked with a smirk.

"Occupying space, as usual," I said with a coy smile which quickly faded when I got a better look at him. "Whoa! What happened to your face!?"

"What do you mean?" he responded back flatly, "I woke up looking like this."

"No! It's… different…" it suddenly dawned on me, "you shaved!?"

Winston looked away with a slight pout on his lips, "Maybe. Does it… look weird?"

I leant over the counter, wide eyes blinking, "Hmm. Yeah!"

"Hey!" he growled back. "This is the point where you're supposed to give me hollow flattery!"

I straightened back up, laughing a little. "I don't know if I'm very good at that, sorry. It's weird but… not weird in a bad way. It's kinda like… ah, how should I say this…? Your face… looks brighter!"

There it was, that shock again, twinkling bright in his eyes. Before I could really live it up and take that look in, he pulled his cap back over his eyes and sunk into his shoulders, grumbling, "Yeah… whatever."

Before I had time to continue my teasing, the front door of the bar opened. My eyes widened when I saw her; it was Annie of all people. "Annie!?" I gawped, "What on earth are you doing here?" Wait… was she a regular customer? It was hard to picture her here showing up every night and getting tipsy with all the rowdy miners. What was she, like, eighty?

She turned toward the direction of my voice slowly, "Touko? You're working here now?" she inquired pleasantly, shuffling over slowly as she did.

"Ah, nah. I'm just helping out bit by bit in the little ways that I can," I replied, rubbing the back of my neck.

"And occupying space," Winston couldn't help but finish.

I shot him a glare, then turned back to the elderly woman. "Is Dorothy not with you?"

Annie settled down on a stool one over from Winston, "No, she's taking care of her thoughts at home right now."

"Her thoughts…?" I echoed.

The old woman nodded slowly, "Thanks to you, I think she's got a lot to think about these days. Even though she seems reluctant and unsure of the future, I know that she, like you, wants the best for this old town."

I looked away.

"Even if she hasn't said a word, I know she'll do what is right when the time comes," she paused to wink, "That's mother's intuition as well!" slowly, she looked down to her hands, palms open and covered in burn scars. I hadn't even noticed those before. "The fire in my heart is going out, but it burns brighter than ever for the young folk of this world. The future is yours, after all."

The bar was silent after she'd finished, and she remained staring at her hands for a little bit longer.

"Anyway, that's enough rambling out of me. I've come to see Charles. Is he in?"

I blinked, coming back to reality and setting aside her words, and what they implied, for later. "Uh, yeah I think he's in the back. I'll go check," I trotted off and turned back halfway to point an accusing finger at Winston, "Don't you touch anything behind that bar!" He rose his hands and tried to look innocent as I left through the door.

"I heard voices," Simon said from where he washed dishes at the kitchen sink, "Winston came back?"

"Yeah. And he didn't come alone. Annie is here too. She said she wants to talk to Charles," I didn't know what about, but perhaps it wasn't really my business, "Is he around?"

"He's in his room sleeping," Simon said, looking over his shoulder as he dried off his hands. He smiled weakly, "Good luck waking him up though."

I frowned. Oh joy.

"Don't bother. I'm already up." Both Simon and I turned to see Charles strolling in, looking like he'd just got dressed and hadn't even got a chance to brush his hair yet. "Am I needed?" he asked sleepily.

"Annie's here. She said that she had a message to give you. She didn't much elaborate," I told him, thumbing to the bar door.

His eyes widened a fraction at her name, "Dorothy is…?"

"Not with her. She came alone," I let him know.

Charles paused for almost a second too long before he headed out to the bar.

"I'm surprised Annie made it all the way here by herself. She is getting on in years," Simon said, coming up beside me.

I found myself smirking, "She may look old but I think there might be a little bit of fire still left in her," I turned to him, "Anyway, are you done with the dishes? Winston showed up, and he could use something light to take the edge off."

Simon sighed and hung his towel back up, "I'll see what I can fix him. It's probably not a good idea to leave him nearly unsupervised at that bar all by himself. Temptation can be a monster."

"Yeah but… I think he'll be all right," I murmured out, nearly without thinking.

With one smile cast back to me, I thought I heard Simon say, "thanks to you," but he was gone before I could react.

And there I was left alone in the kitchen again. I sighed. I thought about heading back out into the bar, but decided against it when I figured Charles and Simon had the place covered. Instead I was stricken by a strong sudden urge to just remain alone for a little while. This small kitchen room lit by the pale light of the rising sun from outside, flitting with little specks of dust and dirt, still smelling of dish soap from the sink… and all empty except for me. For some reason, I felt like I didn't want to leave it. The voices of Charles, Simon and the others in the bar were a dull background noise; I could hear them through the walls but couldn't make out their words. A wave of drowsiness came over me steadily and I gave into the temptation of being on my lonesome. With another sigh I took a seat at the kitchen table, propped my chin on my palm and stared out the smudged grimy window above the kitchen sink, zoning out for a little while.

I don't know how long I zoned out for exactly, but Simon broke my self-imposed trance by suddenly peeking through the doorway and calling my name.

He must have noticed me nearly jump out of my seat. "…Oh, I'm sorry. Did I startle you?" he smiled apologetically.

"Oh… no," I shook my head, "Sorry, I was miles away. What's up?"

"Well," he smiled brightly, "There are two nice young gentlemen here to see you, Miss Touko."

Two nice young… gentlemen?

I blinked. 'Uhh?'

Too dumbfounded by that weird bombshell he'd just dropped on me, I followed him wordlessly back out to the bar. And that's where I found the two nice young gentlemen, and when I saw them I felt my heart fly.

"Oh! Cheren! N!" a huge smile spread on my face at just the sight of them. "I can't believe it!" And I ran around the bar to meet them. Even though we'd only been apart for a handful of days, it'd seemed like ages. "What are the two of you doing here? Isn't the operation supposed to be…?" For another few days at least, I'd thought. They were early.

"Yes, you're right," Cheren closed his eyes. "The coup is still going to be executed according to plan. I've just come here to talk to Charles about a few things." He sighed, "Besides, I really needed to get out of the base for a while and stretch my legs. It was getting far too stuffy in there. Cabin fever was starting to sink in a bit."

I pointed at him, "But if you're here for Charles then…" and turned to N. "You came too. What… for?"

N smiled brightly, "I came here because I wanted to see you."

My went red. Very… red.

"However," N resumed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I agree with the statement that it was getting far too cramped inside of the base." He shot Cheren a cold look. "And things were getting a little lonely, as I was not permitted to let any of my friends out to play."

Cheren glared at the far wall. "Well, maybe I would have given my guest a few more privileges if he didn't hog all the bed space at night, and eat my entire ration of the cinnamon rolls, without asking, might I add."

They both shot each other icy glares. I blinked speechlessly. What exactly had happened during the last couple of days? Actually, maybe it would be better if I didn't know…

"So… that's why you wanted to come here?" I asked N.

His look melted into warmth when he looked back at me; it was a staggering change. "If that's not too much trouble." But in that smile I noticed a desperate pleading.

"We'd love to have you," Simon spoke up, "however, we only have three beds here. There's not much room for another. I could make up a bed on the couch, but it's not very comfortable…"

"That's all right," N said, "Touko and I usually sleep together anyway."

Everyone's jaw seemed to simultaneously hit the ground, even mine.

"Well, who knew you were getting along so well, Sandwich Lady…" Winston hummed, sipping his drink.

"You shut up!" I blurted, running over and assailing his back with half-serious punches. "He didn't mean it like that!"

"Ouch! Hey, easy! Actually… that kind of feels like a massage…" he took another sip as I wailed on him, "go a little lower." I stopped punching and swiped his hat off his head. Winston turned to look at me in shock, "Hey! Give that back!" I held it out of his reach as he leant as far as he could off his chair.

"Please calm down!" Simon gasped. "You two are going to break something!"

Charles walked over to N and grinned, "You're certainly welcome to stay if ya want. I can imagine that it ain't to easy living day and night with this guy," Charles whispered, jerking his chin at Cheren.

"I can hear you. I'm literally standing right here," Cheren glowered.

Charles flinched, "How uptight, eh?"

N sighed, "You have no idea."

"By the way. I feel like I should bring this to attention if no one else is going to," Charles said, cocking an eyebrow, "…you seem to have a mysterious growth under your shirt." Charles poked the odd protrusion on N's stomach. Somehow I hadn't even noticed it until Charles had brought it up.

N looked down, "Oh yes. This. I suppose it will be alright for you to come out now." N unzipped his shirt. The lump moved slightly under the fabric, and then Alphonse peeked out of the neck of N's shirt with a squeak just like a Jack in the box.

"Whoa!" Charles leapt back.

Alphonse looked around at the bar interestedly, but when he saw me he darted out of the cover of N's shirt and, and as I was expecting, flung himself onto my face for a hug. "Toukie!" he shrieked happily. "Toukie! Hello! N and I missed you so much!"

"Mrff," I replied.

"Alphonse missed you," N said cheerily.

He'll suffocate me if he doesn't get off! I tried to pry the Victini off my face, but he wasn't letting go easily.

Charles frowned. "That's a weird way to carry a Pokémon around. Why didn't you just keep 'im in his Pokéball?"

N shook his head. "Alphonse doesn't like going inside of Pokéballs. So I was not going to force him, although, it does make it a bit harder to carry him around, especially in this town where he's supposed to stay hidden."

"So, you're going with the out-of-place looking stomach growth story?" Winston asked as he took another sip.

N shrugged, "I was unsure. Hiding him under my shirt, while somewhat unnatural, seemed like the best course of action to sneak him into the town… umm."

"Whatever works, man," Winston said, raising his glass in the air.

By that time, I'd finally managed to pry Alphonse off my face with a loud gasp. I sputtered hair. "You… really love hugging people's faces, huh, Alphonse," I hacked a few times.

"Yeah!" he flapped his arms happily.

Annie hummed, "You know, I think you might be able to get away with having him rest in your shirt like a stuffed animal. It may not fool the Plasma soldiers but I doubt many of the common folk here would question it much."

"I didn't think of that," I blinked, "Do you think it would work?"

"I think there's no reason not to try," Simon smiled brightly.

"What do you think, Alphonse?" N held out his arm, "It might be a little easier for you to breathe that way. Hm?"

"Yas!" Alphonse zipped back over to N and slid into his shirt, poking his head out and looking up at N with big blue eyes. "How do I be a stuff am-i-nal anyway? Do I just stay still? I can stay still and keep my head out?"

"Oh, yes. That looks pretty good actually," Annie said, opening her eyes a little wider from their usual blissful squint. "All you need to do is remain completely still like you're made out of fluff and stuffing. You think you can do that, you little apple slice?"

"Yeah!" Alphonse fluffed up his fur. "Watch this!" and the little Victini froze. He didn't blink, didn't move a muscle, didn't even look like he was breathing.

All of us stared at him.

"He looks like the real thing," Winston said, finishing off the last of his drink.

"Hmm," I mused in agreement.

The jingling chime of the front door opening made us all turn. Another visitor? "U-um… h-hello? Pardon the… uh, intrusion." A young man with ginger hair and freckled skin cautiously tread into the bar.

Simon smiled against all our wide stares. "Hello there, how can I help you?" The kid looked a little short of drinking age, so I wondered why he was here.

"A-actually, I just…" suddenly he caught sight of Alphonse resting in N's shirt and his eyes widened. "Oh! Wow! Is that a stuffed Pokémon doll?! How uh… cute," I suppressed an uneasy frown as he walked over to inspect the Victini 'doll'. "Cool. I haven't seen one of these in a dog's age." The boy stopped in front of N and stared with an uneasy frown at Alphonse. He slowly reached out his hand, but then retracted it quickly with a nervous—or almost cautious—step or two back.

What was up with him? He was acting a little bit too skittish considering he thought Alphonse was supposed to be a plushie. Well, I guessed things would be fine as long as Alphonse didn't decide to spontaneously break character and attack the kid or anythi—

"Hey there!" Alphonse burst out of N's shirt, flickering little embers off his wings. "You're a new human! I don't think I've ever seen you before! What's your na—"

The boy wailed in terror and fell back. "Ahh! It's… It's… real!" He pointed at Alphonse in horror as the little apple slice just hovered in place looking a little perplexed.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Alphonse asked with a tilt of his head.

"Ahh! And it talks!" the boy shrieked again, cowering behind his arms as if he thought he was about to be struck.

"Mmm. N! This boy is funny! I like him!" Unsure or maybe unaware of the boy's obvious terror, Alphonse fluttered in for a closer look with a happy squeak. He seemed to think this was just some kind of game the boy was playing. I could see otherwise though. That was real terror in that boy's eyes if I'd ever seen it.

"Get away!" he recoiled from Alphonse. "Get away from me you… Monster!"

"Monster!?" Alphonse recoiled as if he'd just been slapped; the innocent joy once in his eyes plummeted into disbelief and hurt. "Wh..!? No… but… I-I'm not…"

Seeing Alphonse back off, the young man took the chance to escape. He scrambled to his feet in a flash and made a beeline for the door, hitting his leg sloppily on a table before bursting out the door and disappearing out of sight.

Alphonse hovered in the air, staring wordlessly where the boy had gone.

N came to Alphonse's side. He didn't touch the Victini and didn't say anything, but he was close, and let Alphonse know he was there.

"N?" his telepathic voice seemed much smaller than I'd ever heard before. "…Am I a monster?"

"No," the response was flat, yet firm and assured. "Of course you're not."

"Then why did that boy say I was!?" Alphonse demanded, whipping toward N, large blue eyes shining. "I'd never even met him before! I didn't hurt him! I didn't want to!"

"Alphonse," N cupped a hand around Alphonse's face gently as if to catch the steadily falling tears. The sudden seriousness in N's eyes melted into warm understanding. "Please, there's no need for you to become upset. You've done nothing wrong. That human on the other hand," a twinge of bitterness crossed on his face. He looked to the door almost as if wanting the boy to come back so he could give him a piece of his mind. To me that look spoke louder than words ever could. Perhaps that boy was lucky he ran away when he did.

"Who was that, Simon, Charles? I don't think I've seen him around before…" Cheren started, not sounding too curious.

Simon and Charles shared a look. "I'm… not too sure, actually," Simon said. "It seems that he needed something here… but… your Victini seems to have scared him off."

Alphonse's ears dropped, and N frowned.

"I'm going to go out and find him," everyone turned to me in varying levels of confusion and shock. Yeesh, it's not like I'd just said I wanted to take a vacation to Alola or anything. Well, it didn't matter. There was no way I could just let that kid wander off without finding out why he'd come here in the first place, and what his deal with Alphonse was. Somebody had to get to the bottom of this if no one else was going to.

"Wait a minute, Touko," Charles began, "are you sure that's a good idea—Hey!" but I was running off before he could finish. I burst out the door into the fresh, crisp sunny light, picked a direction… and ran.

---

I didn't have to look too far. Must have been dumb luck, or fate even, but I found the kid just down the street sitting by the sea at the far south of town where the houses ran thin. He leant against the railing with his arms folded on it, and looked out to the flickering black sea. As I approached, I had to stop a moment just to marvel the sight of it. This place… really was beautiful when the sun was out and shining. That's all I could really think as I watched the light catch across the flickering water in a thousand flashes. At the very least, it raised my spirits just a little, and I put the bad vibes of the scene at the bar behind me, tried to put on a smile, and walked forward.

"Hey!" I called, and the boy nearly jumped from his skin. He whipped around to me, but visibly relaxed when he saw that I came alone.

"O-oh. It's you," he looked around fugitively. "That red monster isn't here with you, is he?"

"You mean the Victini? Alphonse isn't a monster, but no he's not here."

"Oh…" the boy turned back to the ocean. "Good."

Then it got quiet. Instead of trying to strike up conversation, I gave this kid a look over. His white skin seemed even paler in the sunlight, but now that I was closer I could see freckles spattered not only on his face but on his arms and hands too. The short ends of his dull ginger hair ruffled in the wind.

I smiled, easing a sigh, trying not to lose the optimistic feeling I had. I think I would have to try be a bit delicate here, "Sorry, but I don't think I got your name before."

He jumped. "O-oh. Oh, right," he held out a sheepish hand. "I'm Oliver… H-hey… hehe."

I took his hand and shook it warmly. "I'm Touko. Um… can I ask why you came to Simon's just now…?"

"To-Touko…?" he echoed, eyes widening in fear. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no." He threw his face in his hands. "The terrorist Touko!?"

"Well, I guess some people are calling me that," I shrugged. "I also go by Sandwich Lady on occasion."

"It's true after all, isn't it?" he muffled through his hands.

I tilted my head, "What's true?"

He peeked out over his fingers. "You guys… you guys are the ones planning to revolt against Team Plasma aren't you?" I could hear the dread loud and clear in his voice.

I sobered. "We are. Is that why you came to Simon's? Because you knew that Charles was the source of the rumors?"

"Yes…" he moaned. "I wanted to see if they were actually true… and they are… they are…" he hid his face again.

By the way he was talking, I didn't think he was a member of Team Plasma, either that or he was a really good actor, but why did he seem so against the idea? Before I could ask, he looked me dead in the eye and said:

"You gotta stop it."

"…what?"

"You can't do it! You can't revolt against Team Plasma!" he said desperately. I would have told him to button it if we were any closer to the town, but I hoped the ocean waves would muffle any echoes.

"Hold on, calm down a second. Why don't you want us to go through with it?" I asked.

He looked at me apprehensively. "I-I'm not sure I want to tell you…"

"How can I ask Simon and Charles to call things off if you won't even tell me why you want it to be called off in the first place?" I asked doubtfully. "How am I supposed to understand if you won't tell me?"

"Aww, can't you just do it?" he whined, grasping his head. "I… I just don't want to fight anybody. I don't want to fight against Team Plasma! Do you know how powerful those guys are!? They could flatten this whole town if they wanted to! And… what's worse is…" his face warped in a terrified frown, "if they're gone… the Pokémon will come back."

I blinked. "Huh? Why is it a bad thing if all the Pokémon come back…?"

Oliver glared out over the oily black ocean. "…I hate Pokémon."

He… hated…?

Before I could even get in another breath to speak, he continued without looking back at me.

"I don't remember a lot of it. Maybe I've been trying to forget it or something—I don't know. I was younger when it happened, but when Team Plasma first started getting people to go into the mines… they used Pokémon to force everyone to work." His hands clenched hard on the railing, shaking. "They used Krookodile… Liepard… they used weapons… and guns. With all those things… they hurt a lot of people… and me too… Here… I guess I should show you."

Before I could say anything he knelt down and rolled up his pant leg, and what he showed me made my breath jam in my throat. The wounds were long healed now, but still looked gruesome and raw even after so many years. Old scars ripped and twisted along his legs, warping the flesh in deep lines and depressions. Faintly I thought I could see the puncture marks of teeth imprinted into the skin too, and a shiver went down my spine.

"Here too," he stood up and opened his hands, and across his knuckles and fingers crawled similar scars. "And one more here," he tapped his index finger on the side of his mouth, and I noticed a dent on his upper lip.

I put my hands slowly over my mouth, "That's… awful… Look, I'm sorry. I had no idea… I…"

He shook his head, "No, it's okay. They don't really hurt anymore, you know." He hugged himself and looked out at the water, as if seeking calm in the waves. "Trust me, it looked way worse the day it happened, eheh…" he swallowed hard. I bet it did. "They don't use Pokémon anymore to boss people around. The guns are… their power is enough to make people obey and listen to them. But you know, I don't mind it so much. I mean, sure their other weapons are scary too, but they're not as bad as the Pokémon were. Just… thinking about it makes me feel sick. That's why I don't want you to get rid of Team Plasma. If you do that then the Pokémon are going to come back… and I don't…. I can't…"

"Do you work in the mines?" I asked calmly.

He blinked at me, "What? Well, uh… no. How did you know that?"

"Oh uh. Just a hunch. I mean, you have a bit of a different vibe than Charles, Winston, or all the people I see marching off there every day do," the tiredness they had, the dirt imprinted on their skin that even water couldn't wash away, the lingering smell of oil and machines… this boy didn't have any of that. I made a face, "That's weird. Charles told me… isn't the starting age ten or something? You look at least seventeen…"

"Uhh," he turned away as if in guilt. "Uhh. Yeah. My dad works… in the mines… I don't."

"Your mom?" I asked.

"She's uhh, well… not doing so well right now. Like, mentally, emotionally I mean. I guess you could say she's in a mental rut or something. That's how the doctor put it to me, anyway. She doesn't move around too much, you know," he smiled weakly, as if trying to add humor to the situation, "she can barely do any regular stuff. So… Team Plasma kept her on disability leave… and she doesn't… have to… go…" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Since we can't really leave her on her own I stay with her most of the time to take care of her. But we don't get any credits for that."

"I guess that means your dad works to support all three of you then," I chewed on the inside of my lip.

"Yeah."

"That can't be easy…"

"Yeah. He has to work longer hours… even during weekends to keep our house and food paid. It sucks I know but, what can you do, you know?"

"I think there's a lot that you can do."

He turned to me, eyes blank in shock. I stared back at him unfalteringly as I could.

"Look I don't want to play psychologist on you here or anything, but it sounds to me like this fear that you have is keeping you rooted in place. Don't you want to help make things better for your family? You can't do that if you're too scared of moving forward," I couldn't help but look at his hands. "Look, I know Pokémon hurt you in the past, you don't need to show me those old scars again but… all Pokémon aren't like that. There are bad and good people out there, right? It's the same with Pokémon. Usually they don't just attack people…"

"You can't just say that," he clenched his teeth, looking away. "I've seen it all before, I know what Pokémon are capable of. They can do things no person could ever accomplish, even with machines or technology! They can smash mountains into pieces and flood cities! They can conjure lightning and storms and fire… So what if I'm afraid!? Don't I have a right to be? I mean, sure things aren't the greatest right now, but we're all safe and alive!"

"Alive…" I echoed the word quietly, staring at the slums out of the corner of my eye. "Is that really what you can call this? And at truly an appropriate cost? Look I'm… I'm not you. I don't know your pain or what you've been through, and I really haven't lived in this world, but even at the small glimpse that I do have, I can see… the people in this place are truly hurting. I can… feel it." I looked him up in the eye, "And to not want to change things… to actively want to put a stop to them just because it threatens the security blanket that you have… isn't that a little bit selfish?"

"What?!" he looked at me desperately, angrily. "You're the selfish ones here! You just said it yourself—you hardly know anything about this town! Team Plasma is protecting us! Don't you think that if the Pokémon came back and saw everything we've done to this city and route six, can't you just imagine how furious they'd be?! They'd tear us apart for sure, I know they would! Humans drove them away! Humans were the ones who hurt them! So without Team Plasma protecting us, I know the Pokémon would have ripped us all apart years ago, just like they always say!"

I flinched. "Oliver… look."

He dropped his hands and looked into me, really right into me. And all I saw in his eyes was fear. "Just… really listen to me, okay?" his voice cracked, "When you fight back, if you start this… revolt… then how many people do you think are gonna die and get hurt during this whole thing huh? Do you really know how powerful Team Plasma really are? Do you know how many risks are involved? If you fight back then you're going to get everyone killed! They'll all be marching right to their deaths, and these fields will be covered in blood!"

With each desperate word he spoke, the fear in his eyes seemed to grow stronger to the point where it was overflowing—overwhelming. His voice grew louder. I wanted to say something to him, anything, but nothing came to me. Not a single thing.

I couldn't even tell him that he was wrong, if he even was. I couldn't say for sure.

"That's enough!" N's voice cut through the air clear as a bell. Oliver and I both wheeled around to see him standing there with Alphonse fluttering out in front of him—almost offensively.

N shot Oliver a dark look. I don't know how much of our conversation he'd heard, but from a look like that in his eyes, I figured it wasn't enough to get a good enough picture. At the very least, all he'd seen was Oliver shouting at me.

Alphonse frowned, his low wings fluttering nervously. "Why are you two shouting all the way out here? Are you fighting? I don't want to fight you, but I won't let you hurt Toukie!"

"Alphonse, wait. It's not like that…"

"You!" Oliver stepped nervously back as Alphonse drew near. "Oh I knew it. I knew you'd come back here." If it was possible, Oliver seemed to turn a few shades more pale, and clenched his teeth. "Look, I just don't want to have anything to do with you, all right! You're not welcome here, so just get out!"

Alphonse flinched at the volume of Oliver's voice, but before he could even say anything the kid turned tail and bolted.

"Wait!" I reached out for him but for some reason my legs wouldn't move. Was it right for me to run after him when I still didn't even have the right words? I let my hand drop and watched him disappear into the town.

For a few moments I looked down at my feet and listened to the calming murmur of the ocean waves. I heard N step up beside me and saw his feet near mine. He didn't say anything for a few moments, and a cool wind blew by, lifting my hair.

"Are you all right?" he asked flatly.

"Yeah," I grunted. Oliver hadn't even touched me.

"Toukie…" Alphonse whined weakly. "Was it bad I showed up? That boy looked so afraid of me, but I didn't even do anything! But I was really worried about you because he was shouting so loud. I was worried he was going to hurt you, Toukie…" Alphonse landed on my shoulder and pressed his forehead against my cheek. "Was it bad I showed up? Should I not have showed up, Toukie?"

I had to smile. "You're fine, Alphonse. I'm glad the both of you came."

"What happened?" N asked calmly, looking straight at me. Something about the chilling look in his eyes was a little intimidating. "Why was that human boy shouting at you?"

"Well," the only way I could think to break this to him was to say it as bluntly as possible. "He said he doesn't want us to kick Team Plasma out of here and bring the Pokémon back."

N stared at me, "That is foolish."

"Yeah," Alphonse blinked between us. "Why doesn't he want the Plasbaddies to go? They're the bad guys, aren't they?"

I crossed my arms, frowning. "It's… difficult to explain, I think. But the best way to put it is… I think that anyone is capable of being a bad guy. People are… even Pokémon too…"

N's lip quirked in a kind of frown.

"Hmm?" Alphonse tilted his head. "Really, Toukie? But I'm not a baddie. You and N aren't baddies either!"

"But that's because you know that you don't want to be bad," I said to him, looking the little fire ball right in his big blue eyes. "So you try your best to be good. But sometimes… sometimes I think people and Pokémon can be bad without even really knowing. Sometimes I think their hearts and their minds are shut so tightly that they aren't even really aware what their actions can do to others. Sometimes someone can do something bad because they think they're doing something good… it's…"

"Gray…" N murmured softly.

"Yeah… gray," I closed my eyes and took a bracing breath. "That boy told me that when Team Plasma first took over the town, their Pokémon attacked him. I saw the scars all over his legs and his hands. I can only imagine what he must have looked like the day it happened… but that's the reason why he thought that you were a monster Alphonse. You reminded him of that day…"

"Wha!?" Alphonse squeaked. "Waa! But I wouldn't bite him! I wouldn't burn that boy! I wanted to be his friend! You believe me, don't you!?"

"Of course I do Alphonse, calm down now," I put my hand on his big round head. "But try to see it from his eyes for a second. You're an amazing little fireball, you know that Alphonse? You certainly don't look like a monster, especially in my eyes, but you can do all sorts of tremendous things that no human could even dream of doing. That boy isn't like me, or N, or Terrance, Piper or anyone else at the base. He's lived maybe almost all of his life without being close to any Pokémon. He doesn't really know the first thing about them. But since Team Plasma has used Pokémon as weapons, his strongest memories of Pokémon are painful and bad ones."

"But I wouldn't bite a person! I wouldn't burn a person! I… I only hurt the bad guys but… I don't want to hurt them t-too much!" Alphonse brought his small fingers worriedly to his mouth, "I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"I know that," I said, scratching his head with two fingers, "but that boy doesn't. That's why… I want to go after him."

N frowned at me.

"You do, Toukie? Why?" Alphonse asked, his ears fluttering.

"Well, I don't know if going to him will be able to change anything, or if we'll be able to talk to him enough to make him try and understand but… just watching him disappear and run away… I feel like if I walked away from this now without trying to fix it, I don't think it would be satisfying for either of us. Besides," I flashed a smile, "Don't you want to show that boy that he doesn't need to be afraid of you?"

Alphonse gasped, "Yeah! I do! Do you think I can do that!?"

"Only one way to find out, Alphonse! You ready to roll!?"

"Yeah!" he sprang up from my shoulder jubilantly "Let's roll! N… are you going to roll with us too?"

"Uh…" he looked between us, and his gaze settled seriously on me. He sighed shortly through his nose, "Do you believe this to be a good idea?"

I smiled lopsidedly, "By the tone of your voice I can tell you don't think it is."

"That is correct. But I already know from the kind of person you are, you plan to go through with this no matter my views on the matter."

I blinked, "Well, you got me there. But that doesn't mean that I don't want you to come along too. You might be able to help in some ways that I can't."

"…I believe attempting it may be futile."

"Look, I don't know how much of Oliver's shouting fit you heard, but he was just upset and confused, not hostile. He's just… I think he's just like a lost Pokémon. I just want him to know the hands reaching out for him aren't claws…"

"I don't think changing someone's beliefs is something ever done lightly, especially when those beliefs are rooted in ignorance and fear," the corners of his mouth quirked in another frown. "Fear and anger blind the heart and the mind. If you try to tread too deeply into him, at that point he may become hostile, and I worry to think what he would do to Alphonse… and to you."

"Ah…" I managed a smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. Did you see that kid? He was a string bean. I could probably throw him over my shoulder without even breaking a sweat."

N blinked at me flatly, "I suppose that's true."

"Wait!" Alphonse came up. "No, Toukie! We don't want to throw him over your shoulder, we want to talk to him! N!" Alphonse spun toward him. "I agree with Toukie! I know that boy might be scared of me, but I think I can show him that we can be friends! I want to try! Let's try! N!" like a child Alphonse pressed his forehead into N's chest and whined.

And N was truly helpless to that. He sighed loudly in defeat, "Very well. The two of you have convinced me. If we are going to talk to that boy we'd better move quickly. He may be long gone by now."

"Right! Let's move out, team!" I shouted with a declarative fist in the air.

"Yeah!" Alphonse mirrored me.

"But wait!" I shouted, stopping them before they could take one step. "Actually, before we go, Alphonse… you might want to assume stuffed animal mode again in N's shirt. There aren't too many people walking around this time of day, but it might be better for us if you weren't glowing and fluttering around conspicuously around us."

"Conspicissly!" Alphonse smiled brightly.

"Exactly!"

"I agree with Touko's reasoning. If it's all right, Alphonse," N unzipped his shirt a little and nodded.

"Okie, N! I'll be ready for anything whenever you need me!" Alphonse quickly dove and snuggled into the neck of N's shirt, assuming the best stuffed animal guise he could.

"Then," N looked at me, "if preparations are complete…"

"Hold on," I grabbed his sleeve. "Just one more thing. Let's put your hood up to hide your head a little bit," I lifted his hood up over his head. "I guess 'hooding it' is the most fool proof disguise we have for you at the moment."

"…hooding it…" he echoed, watching my every movement with eerie fixation as I made sure his hood was straight and wouldn't slip down.

"Right! I don't know if you noticed on the way here, but there's no broadcast screen in Driftveil. I think here Team Plasma would rather keep a lid on things altogether other than filtering in the information that they want," I let my hands drop to my sides. "But that might work better for us in the long run. I'm not worried about any of the average citizens, but if we happen to have the horrible luck of running into a Plasma sold—"

N stopped my words by placing his fingers over my mouth. He blinked at me, "We'd better make haste before that boy gets too far away."

I made a face and took his hand away, "Yeah… you're right. If you're ready, then let's roll."

And with that we headed off into the town. I just hoped we'd find Oliver out there somewhere before it was too late.

---

We drifted around the town for a while. It was after noon now and the streets were mostly empty. There was the occasional tumbleweed blowing by, or a random person we saw huddled in an alleyway, but besides that we walked alone. Admittedly, although I didn't like to admit it, we didn't know where we were going. I could tell just by glancing at N and Alphonse, and how they followed close behind me, that they were leaving the navigation up to me. Not that I could really blame them I guess—this was their first time seeing this place from the ground instead of from a bird's eye view. Although I wouldn't say it out loud to them, I hated to break it even to myself that I didn't know where I was going either. I was partially confident that I'd be able to find my way back to Simon's bar if push really came to shove, but I really hoped—best case scenario—that we'd run into Oliver out here somewhere and patch things up, somehow. Eventually. We had to… right?

I don't know if N or Alphonse picked up on the fluttering nervousness I felt—I really tried to hide it from my face as best I could and get the shaking out of my hands. But not at one point did any one of us suggest cutting our losses, heading back to Simon's and calling it a day. That alone raised my spirits a little.

Though they didn't stay raised for long, since after about an hour of aimless walking we still hadn't come across Oliver. Somehow we'd ended up on the main street of the city, the widest and longest one in the whole town. And for added joy, it was the main road everyone used to walk to and from the mining HQ every day—their footprints crisscrossed and imprinted deep into the dirt under our feet. Automatically, like on impulse, the three of us stopped in the middle of the road and looked up at that towering final destination, and the factory droned on without a care in the world.

"We should go back," N told me, breaking the silence. "He's gone."

"That's what worries me, though," I said, staring at the smokestacks of the HQ.

N shook his head, "It doesn't matter now. Whether he tells Team Plasma or not… we're still going to have to try to get rid of that building… whether we succeed or fail… the important thing is that we try. There is nothing else that we can do." Alphonse squeaked somewhere from inside N's shirt.

I was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. I guess you're right. Whatever happens happens. I still think that the people of this town will come and help us though…"

N tilted his head slightly, curious, "You sound certain. But I can't help but think there is a possibility that this will be a repeat of what happened in Striaton City."

I frowned, thinking back to the conversation I had with Oliver by the ocean.

"You don't know anything about this town! Team Plasma is protecting us from the Pokémon! If they weren't around then all those monsters would have torn us apart years ago!"

"…Yeah. Maybe." We turned to go.

There was someone standing in the roadway, a black mark where nothing else was. Oliver? Had we finally found him after all!? A smile spread on my face and I stepped forward. But his name died in my throat. The reflective symbol on his chest stood out vividly in the gathering gloom, and it was truly unmistakable. When they looked up at me from under their hood, and their red eyes met mine, my heart just about stopped.

Oh… no…

"Well, hello there, Sandwich Lady. How goes it?" Red-Eyes sneered bitterly. "You're looking well. Perhaps a bit too well for my liking actually."

Oh no no no. I backed away a step, automatically reaching for a Pokéball at my belt. But I grasped air. That's right… Hyle and the others weren't here with me. Ohhh no.

N stepped up in front of me and stared the soldier down defensively.

Alphonse remained motionless from the collar of N's shirt, but he sent his words to me telepathically. "Who is this, Toukie? Do you know this person? I hope he's not your friend because he doesn't look nice."

"No, we're not friends," I whispered back, trying to be covert as I could, "I ran into him a few nights back at Simon's and he got a little too pushy than I cared for," I guess it was wishful thinking to believe we'd got rid of him for good that night. I cupped my hands around my mouth, "Look, I don't have any sandwiches today! So just leave me alone!"

"Afraid I'm not here for any bologna today, Sandwich Lady," from behind his back Old Red pulled out a large, strange looking gun. It looked a bit like a rifle, but bulkier with a strange box-like compartment near the back. Now that looked like it fired out something more than bullets, but I really didn't fancy sticking around to find out what.

"If you're not here for bologna, then what do you want?" N asked, his voice hard and without a hint of fear. If he was feeling it then he was sure doing a good job at hiding it.

"N…" I hissed, not daring to take my eyes of Old Red for more than a second. "I'm admiring your confidence right now but I sure hope you have something to back it up, because I don't see any of your Pokéballs on you."

"Yes," he said back quietly. "I just have Alphonse with me today. The others are still with Cheren. When I ran out after you I did not think we would be taking this extended detour. I intended to bring you back right away, and I did not consider bringing any of my other friends but Alphonse with me due to the risk factor involved," he grimaced, not breaking eye contact with Red-Eyes, "that was a foolish miscalculation on my part."

"Oh don't say that. Not like you were expecting to break them out and have a Pokémon battle in the middle of town," I almost tried to smile. "I'd say don't worry about it, but…" we had a lot to worry about right now. "I know Alphonse is great at sinking ships and everything, but if we don't pull out something like a gun in the next minute I wouldn't really place any bets on us," I really tried to keep the edge out of my voice but I was failing badly.

Red Eyes stopped a few yards away from us, lent back on his heels and sneered. "And hey, looks like you brought some company with you today." He looked at N calmly. I was relieved when I saw no recollection flash across those red eyes—N's hood was doing wonders, like I knew it would. His brow arched slightly when he saw Alphonse, and I bit the tip of my tongue. He shook his head, and smirked, "But that's good, I like that. Shows you're a smart girl. Shows you're smart enough to know how dangerous it is to walk around here on your own."

I really didn't like the way this was going, but all I could do was grit my teeth and try not to make the situation any worse. Though I suppose it was getting worse by the second regardless.

"I'm not terribly interested in you," Red Eyes shot N a dark, suspicious look; the hood was good, but not fool proof, and its guise wouldn't last forever. "If you run now, I won't chase after you. My only beef here is with her." He smiled at me chillingly, "You don't need to look so afraid, Sandwich Lady. I just thought I'd give you a little bit of payback for the other night. And, once I'm done with you I think I'll go off and find your crippled shit friend and see how he likes toppling over. Maybe if you can still open your eyes, you can come watch too, Sandwich Lady," he chuckled darkly, "listen, maybe if you get on your knees and start praying, I'll only take off a few of your fingers."

"N…!" I whispered through clenched teeth, "I have the incredible building urge to knock this guy into the next region right now."

"As do I. I'll see what I can do. Get ready," before I even had time to ask 'for what', N put his hand on the zipper of his jacket and said, "Alphonse, if you would please do the honors. Now!"

In a flash N tore the zipper of his jacket down and Alphonse went rocketing off like a firework, body crackling in heat, fur prickling and fangs bared.

Before I knew what was going on, N swiftly grabbed hold of me and pressed me face first into his chest. "Alphonse, flash as bright as you can!"

"Got it!"

Even with my face pressed right up against N's body I still saw the light of Alphonse's fire. I flinched and automatically clenched at N as a great wave of heat and light blew past us.

The intensity of it lasted for a few powerful seconds, and I was hardly able to breathe let alone see what was going on. But even with my face shoved in N's chest, I could see gradually the light beyond my eyelids growing dimmer, and the wind lowered to at least a tolerable level with it. So I figured I might be lucky enough to chance a peek out there and see what was going on without getting blinded. At the very least curiosity drove me, and I pushed myself out of N's chest, squinted against the wind and opened my eyes.

Alphonse's flash bomb was only a fading flicker now, but Red Eye's still had his arm over his eyes protectively, snarling in either anger or pain—or both. He must have gotten a nice full on blast of Alphonse's flare. Temporarily blinded, he scrunched his eyes shut and waved his gun blindly around.

"Alphonse! Try to strike that weapon out of his hand without injuring him!" N shouted.

"Ohh! I'll try!"

Alphonse zipped forward almost too fast for my eyes to follow.

"Oh no you don't, you bloody fire rat!" Red Eyes forced his eyes open and pointed his gun at Alphonse just as the Victini was closing in.

"No!" I choked on my breath, dreading the sound of gunshot and Alphonse's scream. But instead, with a loud bang, an electric net shot out of the compartment on the back of the rifle, gobbling up the little Victini and pulling him straight to the ground.

N choked a breath, his hands tightening on my shoulders, "Alphonse!"

Both of us could hear Alphonse crying weakly in the electric netting, fighting feebly in its grasp. "Hurt… it… hurts… nnghgh!" Alphonse tried to burn through the net, but it crackled loudly against his resistance and he squealed in pain.

"You…" N seethed at the soldier. "How dare you…"

Red Eyes rubbed his arm over his eyes, blinking blearily, "Now, now, now," Red Eyes wheezed. "You two have a Pokémon with you now, hm? Now that is just no good, no good at all, Sandwich Lady. Don't you know how dangerous Pokémon are? You see, even here," he flicked his gun at Alphonse weakly writhing in the net, "this little monster here nearly blinded me. You know, I was going to try to be the nice guy here, but I really hate resistance." He pointed the gun at the both of us, "I'm sorry but I think I've run all out of good graces."

"N," I hissed quickly. "What's plan B?"

"I uh…" his eyes darted nervously around, "give me a moment, I'll think of something."

I took a deep breath, "Sorry, but I think a moment is all that we have!" I immediately broke away from N and bolted at the Red Eyed soldier with all of my strength.

I thought I heard N calling after me, but this was the only plan B I could think of in the heat of the moment. Feet don't fail me now.

I closed in on the soldier within a second, crouching down as I ran and planning to chuck all my weight directly into the low center of his body. He didn't look like he had any armor on him, but even if he did I would definitely put everything I had into knocking this freak down.

Red Eyes choked a curse as I closed in, whipping up his gun and trying to center it on me, this time definitely planning to shoot bullets.

There was no way I was going to let that happen!

A gunshot cracked against the cold air. Something tore past my arm, but all I felt at the time was a dull burn ripping across my skin. Across, not through. That's all I thought as I collided hard into Red Eyes, the impact pushing the wind out of both of us and making my arms and shoulders rock in pain. For a split second he resisted, and for a moment of dread I thought I'd failed.

And then I felt him tilt. With a bust of triumph I put all my strength into my legs, roaring, and I pushed him right over into the ground. The two of us hit the ground hard in a tangled mess. Immediately I sprang off him, meaning to hop to my feet and put some distance between us, but the burning pain in my arm and lack of air in my lungs caused me to collapse ungracefully onto my butt.

I coughed, faintly tasting blood. I'd knocked the guy down but it had taken a lot more out of me than I thought. I was no Hyle… or no mom for that matter. Actually, I was pretty surprised that had even worked!

But he was down. And as long as he was down all I needed to do was grab that rifle off of him and then…

"Nice try, Sandwich Lady," I saw him for only a second. Just one second. And in that second I registered he was standing up, he was looking at me, and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach in frigid dread.

I saw him raise his gun above his head.

"But you're right out of luck."

Oh… no…

"Touko!"

I heard a sickening crack. I felt the butt end of the rifle hit me—I felt the weight of it, but not yet the pain. The entire world warped in color and darkness, and it echoed and spread across my eyes as far as I could ever see.

"Touko!"

Someone was calling out for me… but who? For some reason I had the desperate feeling that I needed to see. I tried to open my eyes, but it was like my muscles wouldn't listen to my brain. Speckles of light and ghostly colors flashed across my eyes as my eyelids fluttered. Ah, and then there came the pain: a horrible smashing pulse that grew harder and harder with every beat of my heart. I heard myself groan, felt my limbs move, and heard dirt crunch beneath me. A loud screaming filled my ears as my head swam and rolled weightlessly.

The speckles cleared a little bit as my eyes finally listened to my brain. I blinked deliriously up at the rolling gray skies. The sun was gone now, but still I felt that those tumbling gray skies just looked so pretty. As I floated weightlessly, listening to that loud long ringing in my ears, I just thought it would be great to sit here and watch those skies roll on forever and ever… and ever.

A shadow came over me, blackened by the light of the sky, and I saw its deep red eyes.

I heard the click of a gun like a distant faraway echo. My heart started beating faster, fear stabbing its icy fingers into my heart and galvanizing my muddled mind.

Move! If you don't move you're going to die! You have to get up! Move legs! Move arms! I felt my body barely twitch. Get up!

"Bye Bye… Sandwich Lady."

I heard a loud crash and Red Eyes was torn away from my vision. A gust of wind brushed lightly on the front of my face. And the only thing I could see above me were those rolling gray skies again. But I heard something that hadn't been there before… something that sounded like a squabble and a boy screaming. Someone was fighting somewhere? But who? And why? I had the desperate feeling that I needed to look, that I needed to know. I tried to move my body again, and it complied a little better than last time, but still the best I could manage was a weak flopping. Yeesh, a Magikarp could do better than this…

I was about to try again when I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around me. It felt like I was lifted or moved slightly, and my head went swimming again. I ground my teeth and growled, forcing myself not to get carried away by that floating current, and it worked—but just barely.

"…ko… Tou… Touko. Touko! Are you okay!? Say something!"

My eyes fluttered, and I tried to ignore the ringing in my ears. "Nngh… N?"

My vision came back into focus a little, and I saw N staring at me worriedly.

I smiled weakly, "What's that look for? You don't need to look so scared. I'm… okay," seeing him look so afraid was freaking me out too. I scrunched my eyes again.

I heard him breathe a relieved sigh. "If you can talk then he must not have hit you too hard…" I thought I felt him brush my head with his hand, but it might have just been the wind.

I heard another loud crash and N's gaze shot up, his arms tightening around me automatically. I knew it for sure now, something was happening nearby. But what? I had to find out. I didn't have to lift my head too much since I was already propped up against N's shoulder. I followed the sounds of fighting and saw something astounding.

Someone was fighting Old Red Eyes like an animal with only his fists. Who was stupid enough (uh…) to do something like that!? I squinted through the blur of combat and saw a flash of orange hair.

No… way!

Oliver knocked a heavy right hook into the side of Red Eye's head. Red Eyes fell back and Oliver followed him right to the ground, roaring and howling loud enough to wake the dead, swinging his fists like an absolute mad man. Red Eyes looked taken aback to say the least, and was doing all he could to avoid being pummeled to a pulp. Desperately Oliver tried to wrestle the gun off him, but neither side was giving way. But I noticed on the soldier's face that more than just his eyes were red now.

"Whoa…" I breathed in disbelief. Was my head messing with me? Was that really Oliver over there wrestling with that guy? The fearful kid I met at the ocean who had begged me to call off our coup just a few hours ago… was this really the same boy?

I couldn't ask. N couldn't answer me. The two of us merely watched speechlessly as Oliver put his life on the line to save us.

The squabble lasted for just a few seconds before Red Eyes, with a sudden burst of strength, managed to wrestle Oliver off him and heave him away into the dirt. Oliver recovered quickly and tried to get up to his feet. Red Eyes pointed the gun at him as fast as he could.

My heart shot to my throat and automatically my body struggled to get up, but collapsed weakly in N's grip. This can't be happening…! "Oli…!"

"I'll see you in hell, kid!" Red Eyes roared, poised his gun, pressed his finger on the trigger and then… a woman suddenly appeared behind him and smashed him over the head with a huge cooking pot.

The sound echoed down the street off all the ruined houses. The soldier's eyes rolled and he dropped weakly into the dirt.

The woman sighed loudly, straightening her apron. "My goodness, what a ruckus! Don't you soldiers have any consideration at all? Here I am trying to make a nice soup for my family for after work, and here you are flinging that silly gun around trying to fill this whole place full of holes, my word! That's the problem with you dang soldiers! No consideration! No consideration at all. And another thing—"

N and I gawped speechlessly as a few more people peeked their faces out of the surrounding houses.

One man came up beside the ranting woman with the pot and took one look at the soldier. "You know I don't think he can hear you. You right done and knocked the poor guy out cold."

"—Waving your guns around and… What?" the woman blinked, "Oh… you're right. Looks like I did… Well, better get that gun off him before he wakes up. Come on everyone, there are some people who need help over here!"

Hearing her call, around twenty or so people came out of the houses on the street and crowded around us. Where had they all come from? Wait, had they been watching or nearby the entire time? I watched them gently lift Red Eyes up and take the gun off his hands and it was lost somewhere in their bodies—I don't know where they took it or him.

A few other people went to Oliver and helped him up to his feet, patting the dirt off his body and telling him he'd done a good job.

"Look at you, boy. You're bleeding now!"

"You could have got seriously hurt doing that, you know!"

"Does anyone have a cloth and some water! Poor Oliver is bleeding over here!"

"If you can, we also need a couple of ice bags! We've got two people here with some nasty bumps on their heads!"

Two people? I frowned. One of them was clearly me—the pounding in my head was begging for an ice bag—but the other…? They didn't mean Red Eyes too, did they? Were they going to help him out too?

"Hey there, hon," I blinked as a plump woman put her hand on my shoulder and smiled brightly. I hadn't even seen her come over! "How are you doing? Are you all right? You know where you are, don't you?"

My eyes fluttered, "Uh… yeah. I think I'm okay… my head just…" I reached up my hand to brush the burning lump I felt growing, but my fingers came away red.

"Try not to touch it too much now, okay?" she told me gently. "We'll just get some ice on that in a few seconds and clean you right up. You just stay put with your friend here, okay?"

I nodded speechlessly, still trying to process everything that was happening; it all came to me slowly, but even when it hit home I was still doubting a little that this was all really happening.

"Touko!? N!?" I recognized voices from the crowd, and turned to see Annie and Charles rushing over.

"Now what the sweet heck happened here!?" Charles gasped. "Someone tell me what's going on!"

I tried to move my head to see them and tried to move my lips to respond to them, but every part of my body felt like it weighed as much as a mountain. The only part that didn't was my eyes yet they were swimming and swirling around like a boat lost at sea. I tried to push it away, to keep my head above the current and not be dragged along down with it. I had to stay awake, and I focused all my energy on doing that.

"Touko!?" I knew this voice too, but at first I couldn't believe I was hearing it from him. For one thing, he was actually calling my name and not 'Sandwich Lady' for once. Winston appeared beside me, worry and fear gushing raw from his eyes. "What the hell happened to you!? Just what the hell do you think you're doing!?"

I cringed, turning my face away deeper into N's shoulder. "You're noisy," I grunted weakly. "Get your noisy face away from me. You… noisy noise man."

"What the hell are you even saying!?" I heard him shout.

"Winston, calm down. She's injured, okay? Biting her ear off isn't going to help the situation," Charles to the rescue! With a surprising ease in his voice, he managed to talk Winston out of continuing to bite my ear off.

I had to turn away again, because while my headache was lessening slightly, the sickness in my stomach grew strong enough to make me shudder.

"Are you sure you're all right?" N asked, looking me over worriedly.

I could only manage a groan

"Deep breaths, all right?" I heard Charles say.

I tried to nod, but couldn't, so gave some kind of half-assed shaky thumbs up instead. I tried to take in some deep, calming breaths, but it felt more like I was gulping down air like a fish out of water.

"One moment, what happened to your Pokémon friend?" Annie wondered aloud.

N's eyes flashed in shock. "Oh! Alphonse!" N seemed like he was about to spring to the rescue, forgetting for a moment I happened to be dead weight occupying his arms, and he almost dropped me. But he stopped instead, torn for a moment between keeping hold of me or dropping me to go to Alphonse. I was going to try to tell him it was no big deal and that he should go see if Alphonse was alright, but instead he settled back down and almost seemed to tighten his hold on me. He wasn't going?

Instead N looked up to where Alphonse had gone down, and I followed his gaze. The poor little Victini was still caught in the flickering netting a few yards away, and Oliver was standing over him. My stomach did a nervous flip. I glanced at N and saw from his eyes that his stomach had probably just done a nervous flip too.

None of us moved and merely watched as Oliver knelt down. Even from here, and with my blurring vision, I could see how hard his hands were shaking as he reached down for the net which bound the Pokémon. The second he touched it, he recoiled with a gasp as the net's electricity stung him. He frowned, grit his teeth, and then tried again. With his bare hands he grabbed on to the net and pulled every direction, but it wouldn't give.

I cringed as the electricity cracked around his hands.

"Break… you… stupid… thing!" with a loud gasp he was forced to let go of the net and fell back.

Oliver rubbed his aching hands, took another bracing breath and looked like he was about to try a third time. But before he did, the woman with the big pot who had knocked Red Eyes out came over and put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Now that's enough Oliver. If you keep that up you're going to burn your hands right off!"

"B… but I…!" helplessly, he turned back to Alphonse

"Don't worry," the woman assured, "there's got to be an easier way we can do this." She turned out to the crowd, "Does anyone have a pair of rubber gloves and a knife or scissors? There's a caught Pokémon here we have to get out!"

"I've got the gloves right here!" another woman called out.

She ran over and they tried to free Alphonse from the netting. "I think we just need to untangle this part here and…" they managed to peel the mesh off of him, and noticing he was free, Alphonse hesitantly fluttered back into the sky. He shook the static off his fur furiously. His floating was a little wobbly and weak, but he looked like he was doing okay aside from a bit of singed fur and achy joints.

Everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as he fluttered out into the air, glowing like a little star where everyone would be able to see him. All the people who had come here looked up at him wordlessly, almost in awe. I couldn't help but wonder… when was the last time that these people had even seen a Pokémon? To them, right here, right now, did Alphonse look like a little star of hope or one of foreboding?

Alphonse didn't make any sudden moves. He blinked from person to person until he found Oliver. "Oh! There you are…" and he fluttered down to him. "You… tried to save me, huh?"

"H-huh!? Wha?"

"Just now! You tried to get me out of the net, didn't you?! I thought I saw you! Even though the net was all painful and it was hurting you… you still tried!" Alphonse smiled slightly, showing his fangs. "I thought you were scared of me…"

"Mm. W-well, yeah." Rubbing his neck nervously, Oliver looked away. "To be honest, you did kinda scare me a bit. But…" Oliver looked around until he saw me, "…after… what I heard you say… I kinda started thinking about it a little more. I was… really, really scared, but the way you sounded… it didn't sound wrong. Wh… when I… when I saw that soldier attack you… and saw him hit you… I…" his eyes fell downward and he sunk into his shoulders. "It just really reminded me a lot of the day I got these scars," he pulled up his sleeve a bit just to remind himself that they were still there. I wasn't close enough to see them again, but judging by Alphonse who covered his mouth with his small hands, he certainly got a glimpse.

"Does… that mean you're still afraid of me?" Alphonse asked curiously, fluttering a little bit closer.

Impulsively, Oliver took a step back and rose his arms half way. "I… dunno yet. But because I don't really know, then I can't really judge you completely, right? Like, I think I need… more time before I can say for sure…"

'Oh…' Alphonse frowned, his ears drooping.

"But…" Oliver spoke up before Alphonse's mood could hit rock bottom. "At the very least I… uh… well, I think you're a bit too cute looking to be any kind of monster. I guess."

Alphonse's jaw dropped open and he gaped at Oliver for a few seconds of silence. But he rebounded quickly by flaring to life, doing a few loops in the air to the awe—not fear—of everyone watching. He screeched to a halt right where he'd been floating before. "I like you, Oli! You're fun! I like everyone here because you all rescued me and Toukie!" he exclaimed, flapping his arms up and down. "So… I'm going to do my best to protect all of you! Because I… I want to see all of you smiling and happy, okay?"

And Alphonse's words, like a wave coming over the crowd, seemed to bring a smile to everyone who had come that day.

---

"How are you doing, hon? I brought an ice pack for that nasty lump on your head. Here you go," with surprising gentleness, a random woman pressed the bag onto my head. The cold seeped relaxingly into my skull and helped dull the pain and swelling a bit.

I sighed shakily, "Thank… you…"

"Don't worry about it. Just keep pressing that on there for a little bit longer, okay?"

A few other people gathered near me worriedly. It looked like they wanted to ask me if I was okay, or be there to do something to help me if they could or needed to.

"You're fine? Are you sure your head is okay?" N asked again for the… I'd honestly lost count how many times he'd asked. "We should get you inside where you can rest."

"Yeah, Toukie!" Alphonse seemed to appear out of nowhere, "You got hurt way more than I did! What were you thinking, trying to fight that guy! You can't create fires like I can!"

"Yeah," I smirked, rubbing my head, "I forgot about that for a second."

"Come on," I felt N stand, and he lifted me effortlessly in his arms, "Let's go back."

I felt the world start to spin again at the abrupt change in perspective and clutched N desperately on impulse.

"Oh… I'm sorry…" he seemed to notice my eyes spinning. "Did I rise too quickly? I'm sorry… I'll walk slowly when we go back, okay?"

"Yeah," Charles sighed, "lets get you in bed and have Simon whip a nice soup up for you. Annie, want to run these kids back while I sort out what happened here?"

The old woman nodded with her ever-pleasant smile, "Of course!"

"So… you're still going to go through with it, huh?" N turned around to face Oliver. The teen stared at us unfalteringly. The way he stood there all covered in streaks of blood and growing bruises… he really looked bigger and more determined than I'd ever seen him look before. At the very least, he looked nothing like that scared kid I'd talked to at the side of the ocean. "You're really going to try to get Team Plasma out of this city?" His voice, too, was resolute, and it was reflected on his face as well. Under the gray, rolling skies he truly seemed… vibrant. Yeah… that was a good word. Vibrant.

N didn't speak for me but slowly looked down for my answer.

I looked up at N, and then back at Oliver. My words came out like a broken wheeze, but I tried to make them sound strong, "Do you… not want me to?"

"Huh?" Oliver blinked in shock.

"Listen… if you don't want this revolt to happen. If any of you here really want it to stop, if you really want to keep things the way they are right now, then I can… I can…" I could say these words. I should say these words. "I can leave. Things can stay the way they are for as long as you want them to. Whether things change or not… it's not even up to me… it's up to you…" I bit hard on my lip.

Out of everything Oliver could have said or done to me, laughter was one of the last things I was expecting. I blinked up at him dumbly as he clenched his sides. "I was… just thinking," he shook his head, rubbing the tears out of his eyes, "out of everything you could have done, t-to that s-soldier, why was full body tackling him to the ground the first thing to come to mind? You're crazy."

I scoffed, "Hey, I don't want to hear that from you. You went down and wrestled him too, let's not forget."

"It worked doe," Alphonse cooed from N's shoulder.

I huffed, "Yeah, that's because I softened that soldier up for him."

Alphonse's ears twitched. 'Oh! That's right!'

The smile on Oliver's face weakened just a little. "Maybe. Maybe seeing you full on tackling that guy is what gave me that little burst of courage to run over there and help you guys out. I don't know. It's just… I can't remember the last time I'd been that scared before. But my body… it just moved…" he shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what the best thing to do would be from this point on. I don't know if you'll succeed or fail when you do what you plan to do but…" he looked up at Alphonse. "Pokémon are a lot like people I guess. I mean, there can be good ones or bad ones depending on a lot of different things. And you… little fire star… I don't think you're a bad one… I mean. At the very least, I don't think I know you well enough to call you a bad one, anyway. And if things never change in this town, and if Pokémon never come back… then whether they're good or not is something that I'd never be able to find out. And I started wondering a little bit… if that's okay…"

Alphonse smiled brightly, hopped off N's shoulder and drifted gently toward Oliver. The kid stepped back nervously a little bit, but made himself stop. He must have told himself 'I don't need to be afraid here.' I really hope he knew that, at least.

Alphonse stopped and held out his little hands. "Want to be friends?"

"Uh…" this looked like the last thing Oliver had expected, and for a few moments all he was able to do was blink speechlessly at Alphonse's bright smile. "Friends with… a Pokémon, huh? Well… sure. Why not. I guess I could at least try." Oliver held out one of his old scarred hands and gently grabbed Alphonse's tiny paws.

I couldn't help but smile watching them, even as my head grew heavy, even as the world turned darker and darker around me. The last thing I thought before I lost consciousness was that the sight of those two holding hands really was… nice.

.

.

Epilogue

.

A sweet melody pulled me out of the blissful nothingness and back into the light. Gradually it all faded in through the haze: warm bed sheets pulled up to my chin, four wooden walls, and a woman by my bedside. Her gentle humming tune was a single clarity in my muddled and disoriented mind, and I tried to use it to keep my eyes open. Wake up. When she saw my eyes flutter and heard me groan, she knew I was awake.

"Rise and shine little hero. Have a nice nap?" I was only able to give an incoherent grunt in response to Dorothy's question. "How's your head?" her tone sobered.

"Hurnn," I tried to lift my arms but they felt clumsy, and the ringing in my ears and painful headache throbbing through my skull made me just want to play dead.

"Take it easy, okay? You suffered a mild concussion but you should be all right with a little bit of rest. That means stop moving!" and I felt her press my arms down against my sides. "You got that?"

Stop moving. "Yes…" I could do that.

Seeing that I had calmed, Dorothy folded her hands on her lap and let her eyes wander. What a lovely sentinel she was.

"Why…re… you… here?" I managed to grumble out. "What… happen?"

I saw her smirk, "I heard about the commotion you'd started yesterday. You're the talk of the town these days, little hero. You don't have to worry about it. The whole ordeal has blown over and has gone under Team Plasma's radar, for now. If you wait too much longer the lower level guards are going to take wind and it'll catch like wildfire before you know it."

I stared at the ceiling. Right…

As if reading my thoughts, she said, "Though I suppose you're still going to go through with it as planned. How did it go again? I think mom said you said something a little like 'Whether things change or not is all up to you'? Haha, big words, but… not bad ones."

So Annie had filled her in on all the juicy details huh. "I can't tell if you're mocking me or not," I grumbled out, pulling the covers up to my nose.

Dorothy laughed, "Well, maybe I am a little."

"And what about you?" I looked her in the eyes now. I had to.

"Hm?" she blinked.

"Whether things change or not is all up to you. Up to everyone..." I really looked at her.

A shallow smirk tugged on her lips, "Is this supposed to be a guilt trip or a threat?"

"No… Neither. Is that what it sounds like?" I smiled too. "Dorothy… whatever you want to do… I'll understand. I'll support it. There are so many ways in which you can fight, I…" I felt my eyelids flutter. It was getting a bit harder to keep them open. But I couldn't fall back into that comfortable darkness now, I had to tell Dorothy. I had to let her know. I had to…

I felt a cold gentle hand on my forehead and looked up at Dorothy's warm smile.

"That's enough now, little hero. Just close your eyes and sleep for now. Forget about all your fears and all your worries, and forget about the future for a little while. Do you think you can do that?" soothingly she stroked my head, her fingers dancing lightly through the strands of my hair. I felt every single movement, heard her words, and let myself go a little deeper down.

"Doroth…y…" the words barely made it past my lips. "Thanks…"

I thought I heard her snort. "Honestly I'm the one who should be thanking you, silly girl."

I can't remember the exact moment I fell asleep. I can't remember if I had any dreams either. I drifted in and out of the darkness, rising and falling like a leaf on water. Sometimes I thought I heard noises, sometimes I thought I saw lights. There was a time my ears were ringing and my head was pounding, and a time when my body was burning hot. I thought I felt a gentle hand stroking my head, and after a while the pain too faded into the dark current.

And then a long time later I felt a comfortable warmth on my chest which made me want to open my eyes to find out what it was. I did a lot easier than I thought I would, and looked down to see a large lump under the covers on my chest. I blinked at it widely. When did I grow… those!?

The lump started to move and I choked a breath.

But what popped out from under the blankets was Alphonse's cute little face. He gasped loudly when he saw I was awake. "Toukie! You're alive!" Somehow I guess I was. "N! Look! Toukie is alive!"

N?

I turned to find him sitting beside my bed where I remembered Dorothy had last been. When our eyes met his face lit right up.

"Oh, Touko! You're awake! Are you all right? How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get for you?"

I made a scrunchy face, waving away his onslaught of questions, not being quite conscious enough to respond to all of them. "I'm… okay." At least I think I was. My muddled brain couldn't bring up answers for any of his questions, so I figured if I needed something I would think of it eventually.

That small response made him back off slightly; I thought I'd heard a muffled apology as he retreated a bit and gave me space.

"I'll be fine," I told him, "I think."

"How does your head feel?" he asked slowly, leaning back in again. "Better now?"

"Mm…" how did it feel? Was there any pain? It didn't really feel like it. If anything now there was a bit of a dull ache, and it felt tired… and heavy… just like my eyes did. Maybe I should go back to slee—

I felt a cool hand softly stroke my forehead. I felt my body freeze and I looked over at N, watching as he pat my head.

He noticed me staring. "Oh… I'm sorry," he drew his hand quickly back. "Do you… not want me to…? I just thought it… would make your head feel better. I was stroking your head a little bit when you were asleep, and your face went calm, so I thought it was making you feel a little better. But… no?" he made a look almost like a sad Lillipup, but whether he was conscious of it or not I'll never know.

"You were making a scrunchy face," Alphonse smiled. "But when N started pat-patting your head, your face unscrunchied!"

I smiled, "Did it now, hm." I sank down into the covers a little more, turning my eyes back to the ceiling. "…It's okay, N. Keep doing that. Please. It felt nice."

With a nervous, but still happy sort of smile, he leant in a little closer to me and continued stroking my head a lot like Dorothy had. I let my eyes droop a little and just focused on the feeling of his hand. It felt larger than Dorothy's, more firm, yet his skin was surprisingly softer than hers had been, and actually rather cool instead of warm.

"There there… You should feel better after a little more rest, Touko. But it shouldn't be too much longer now. Marie has been healing you while you were asleep, so after a bit more good rest you should feel much better. Aside from the bump on your head, your shoulders were bruised pretty badly and there was a tear on your arm where a bullet had grazed you…" N's smile faded a little. "You were lucky it hadn't pierced you."

"There's just a scratchie now, Toukie," Alphonse smiled, barely still peeking out from under the covers. "Marie did a good job at healing you so I thought I would snuggle with you and keep you warm. Are you warm!? Hmm?"

"Yeah. Thanks Alphonse," I moved my hand and dug my fingers in his head gently. "I'll have to say thanks to Marie later too huh…"

"Touko," N stopped petting my head, and his expression turned a little more serious. "I wanted to say… thank you to you as well…"

I scrunched my eyebrows. "Uhh… for what?"

"Well… I'm glad that you suggested chasing after that boy. When you did, I didn't think that we would find him again. And even if we did, I thought it would be futile trying to speak to him. I thought that he never would have opened his heart to Alphonse or to other Pokémon. If you hadn't suggested we chased after him, I believe I would have continued to regard him as an invaluable element to the overall equation. In my arrogance he would have, more than likely, forever remained an invariable…" N folded his hands between his knees and his eyes wandered out the nearby window. The hazy light through the blinds shone on him, catching the flecks of drifting dust and making them shine and swirl.

"I like Olie," Alphonse grinned brightly. "He's my friend," and he pressed his little face on my chest.

"It was a wonderful little glimpse…" N went on, almost mumbling, "a little glimpse into this world that I've only looked on from above for a very, very long time. Somehow this place… seems incredibly vibrant," he looked down at me warmly, "don't you think so?"

I stared back at him, not even wanting to blink. "Yeah. I think so too…"

"That's why I wanted to thank you… for showing me something new and amazing. But… it does make me a little curious," he tilted his head, "is that the reason why you had chosen to remain here in the city instead of back with Cheren and I at the base?"

I smirked, "Well, yeah. That and I didn't want to be cooped up down in there with only the two of you for company for more than a week."

N stared at me widely, seriously. "I believe that was a wise choice."

I snorted a laugh, smiling. "Cheren really gave you a hard time in there, didn't he? Yeah, I know all about it. I've been friends with him for… years. I know firsthand how annoying he can be when you're… why are you staring at me?"

"You have a beautiful smile."

For a moment it was like I felt time stop. I blinked at N, and he blinked at me. And at the same time both of our faces seemed to turn as red as a Darumaka.

"I like Toukie's face too. It's pretty," Alphonse nuzzled into my chest more, and it brought my smile back.

"Thanks Alphonse and… thanks… N," while I looked away at the opposite wall, I dug my hand out of the covers—unbothered by the colder air—and held it out to him.

I glanced back just a moment to see N blink blankly at my hand. And just as my heart was about to sink, he took it with both of his… and made our hands warm. That, along with the strength of our grasp, made me feel something indescribable in my chest. It was an anxious fluttering sort of feeling, but also a warm and settling one. It was strange but… not bad. And when I looked back at N, when our eyes met, I could tell he was feeling it too.

But it really… wasn't bad at all.

The sudden click and creak of a door opening caused both N and I to nearly jump out of our skin. We both turned in speechless shock to see Cheren strolling casually in.

"Is she still asleep in here or…" he stopped half way through when he noticed N and I were still holding hands. He looked at us flatly over the rims of his glasses. "Really? Again? Haven't you two had enough moments already?"

"Wow, look who finally showed up," I said, peeking at him from over the covers, slipping my hand out of N's. I noticed from the corner of my eyes his gaze lingered a moment on me almost a little disappointedly, and he took longer than he maybe should have to put his hands back at his sides. "Both Dorothy and N came here to visit me, but I was wondering when you'd show up, Cheren. I know how worried you must be for your dear childhood friend's grave injuries," I feigned a dramatic frown.

"Actually," Cheren's expression didn't change from unenthused as he closed the door behind him. "I came here to say something to N. I know how hard your head is, Touko. I wasn't worried."

I started to rise slowly and menacingly out of my bed, and N and Alphonse immediately tried to hold me down.

"Toukie! Wait! You're still hurt! Lay back down!" Alphonse tried to keep his head above the covers.

Ignoring the fire in my eyes, Cheren strolled casually over to the other side of the bed and looked at N.

N looked back at him seriously, "He's finally contacted you then?"

I blinked.

Cheren nodded, "He just sent word back earlier on this morning. I managed to pick it up back at the base. He says he's bringing everything that you said you'd need. You sure that's all?"

"Yes. If he obtains everything I'd specified then I don't believe there will be an issue. You do not think there will be an issue of getting him here, do you? The trip across the ocean from the Desert Resort to Driftveil isn't incredibly far but the Black Ships constant roam puts me ill at ease."

Cheren smirked, "I'd share your sentiments if it was anyone else but him we were talking about. One way or the other though, I don't think he's going to be making a return trip."

N nodded solemnly, "Indeed."

I looked between the both of them cluelessly. "Uh. Who exactly are we talking about right now?"

Cheren bumped his glasses up his nose and looked me right in the eye, "Someone we wouldn't be able to keep away from Driftveil even if we tried. He still likes to proclaim himself the Underground Boss of it, after all. I don't think it'll take you long to guess."

I blinked at Cheren for one long second before the realization hit me like a brick and filled me with an indescribable feeling of hope… and fear.

"Oh."

---

A/N: Okay everyone, I hope you enjoyed reading the LONGEST chapter of WHBB so far (coming up at about 28k words after all the editing and revising whew). This was certainly a monster to write but I'm glad its all tidied up and finally finished after such a long time.

Next time we dive head first right back into the plot with a bang! Let's hope Touko and N can make it out of this one alright. STAY TUNED