"You really mean to tell me that you were the one protecting Mewtwo for all these months?"
I didn't respond, keeping my eyes locked on the ground.
"He asked you a question!" Kyle said through his teeth as he jolted me roughly.
"That's enough."
I was startled by the ice in Giovanni's voice when he spoke to Kyle, who looked back at Giovanni like a child who had been slapped for the first time.
"Sir?" Kyle asked, unsure of what to do.
"I don't know who gave you permission to behave that way toward other children, but it won't be tolerated. Furthermore, she's a Champion of this region and Hoenn, so you will treat her with respect," he continued, his voice still hard.
Kyle's jaw dropped at the word "Champion."
"Y-Yes, sir," Kyle managed to say.
After glaring at Kyle for a moment longer, Giovanni sighed and drummed his fingers on his desk. Then he fixed his gaze on me, and after a moment I noticed his eyes widen in surprise before narrowing again.
"Kyle, why is the right side of her face bruised?" he asked quietly.
"I . . . I don't know, sir, it wasn't—"
"Find Butch," he cut him off, his voice becoming even more tense, "tell him to come to the office immediately."
Kyle bowed his head slightly and walked out of the office, the door sliding closed behind him. Giovanni massaged the bridge of his nose and muttered something under his breath that I couldn't quite make out.
"Why am I not surprised?" he addressed me finally, "You really are willing to do anything to oppose Team Rocket, aren't you?"
At these words he beckoned to a seat in front of the desk, but I couldn't take a single step. I stood by the door with my arms wrapped around myself, my heart still fluttering like a Butterfree's wings.
"Stop being difficult, I'm not going to do anything to you," he sighed, "This is all a misunderstanding; had I known that you were the trainer they suspected, I would have come to meet you myself."
I still said nothing, not reassured at all by his words.
"All I want is some information on Mewtwo's whereabouts. Once we get that, we can send you back home and you can forget all about this nonsense. Sounds like a fair trade, right?"
"I don't know where he went," I replied finally, my voice hardly louder than a whisper.
"I know when you're lying to me."
"I'm not lying!"
I was surprised at myself when I finally exploded, but I did not lower my voice when I added, "He really did leave!"
"But not because it wanted to, is that correct?" he asked as his Persian hissed, hopping off his lap and curling up on the couch.
"He— . . . yes, he did."
I wanted to kick myself for hesitating.
"You're lying again," he rose from his chair.
"I really don't know where he went, he didn't tell me. But even he did, I . . . I'd never tell you, no matter how nice you act!" I backed against the wall, fear creeping up on me again like a Spinarak.
"Why is that?" Giovanni asked this as took a step toward me.
"I don't want . . . you can't—"
"Mewtwo's life is not yours to decide, it belongs to us. You realized that you stole our property when you captured him, didn't you?"
"But I don't—"
"Now that I think about it, it is rather ironic. Usually, we are the ones stealing Pokémon, but how the tables have turned! I ought to report you to the authorities myself," he laughed.
"He doesn't deserve to live like this, no Pokémon does! He . . . his abilities are wasted on Team Rocket!"
"Wasted, you say? I know you are a child, but I cannot possibly make this any simpler to understand. Mewtwo was designed for Team Rocket to conquer and dominate, it's all he knows!"
"You're wrong," I said earnestly, "there is much more to him than that."
"Don't be silly," he brushed me off again, "all of its actions are all based on one of two things: the desire to be the most powerful, or the fear of not appearing that way."
"That isn't true anymore!" I shouted in frustration.
Giovanni's face contorted for a moment, then he really started laughing.
"You . . . you think that he actually changed during the few months he spent with you? Come now, you're deluding yourself!" he said, wiping his eyes.
I was infuriated by this response.
"I don't think so, I know so!" I said stubbornly.
"You do realize that he doesn't care for you. You were just a bodyguard to him," he said, folding his hands together.
"But . . . he did! He said . . ."
I faltered, practically choking on the words that were on my tongue.
Why am I telling him this? He doesn't deserve to know.
"Said what? What did he say to you?"
"He . . . he said . . ."
Still chuckling, Giovanni asked, "Has it occurred to you that Mewtwo could have been trying to win your trust? That it knew exactly what to say to manipulate you into believing those things? Or perhaps it even forced you to think that way."
I opened my mouth to shout back, but I closed it again. He could have been right, but I did not want to believe a word he was saying.
"We have never seen him do it," he continued, "but controlling the minds of humans is something he would be more than capable of doing. And you would have no idea, even after it happened. Mewtwo is a dangerous being, it was foolish of you to allow it into your home."
I knew he was wrong, but I was still becoming nauseous at the thought of that happening.
"What I am saying is, since it's a tool that operates on fear, it is incapable of things like—"
"I know," I mumbled, looking at my shoes.
"But . . . he did care about me!"
I glared at Giovanni again as I said, "He listened to me, and he believed in me. He deserves to be his own Pokémon and live freely, not stifled here."
Giovanni sighed in disappointment.
"Very well," he said finally, turning back and walking toward his desk, "you can go."
I had another retort ready for him, but I choked on it when he said those words.
"Wait . . . really?"
"Yes, you're completely useless to us," Giovanni affirmed without hesitation.
His hand hovered over a big green button for a moment, "I'll have another chopper take you back to Pallet, though I am surprised you don't have your—"
Before he could finish his sentence, the door to the office slid open without warning.
"Boss!"
I flinched where I stood; it was Butch's voice.
"Butch," Giovanni practically growled, clearly annoyed at his subordinate, "did you hit this child?"
Butch swore under his breath, but only I heard him, before he fully stepped into the room as the door slid shut behind him.
"I . . . yes, she was talking back—"
Giovanni withdrew his hand, walked around his desk, and approached Butch. Though Butch was at least several inches taller than Giovanni, he nervously took a step back.
"You're scum if you strike a child," Giovanni practically spat the word at him, "I don't care what she said to you. Team Rocket takes what belongs to us and exploits Pokémon, but we do not strike children. You're an embarrassment to this organization."
"But Boss, you've got to—"
"If this isn't news about Mewtwo, you're fired. No questions asked. Do I make myself clear?"
Butch was silent for a moment. I did not realize that I was holding my breath until he spoke again.
"I've got some . . . sensitive information for you, sir. I don't think you want me discussing it in front of the little miss," he said, almost as if he was holding back a laugh.
Giovanni sighed and rubbed his temples, then said, "Lilly, have a seat. Persian, keep an eye on her. This won't take long."
He stepped out from behind his desk and went to the back of the room, placing his hand on a dark square on the wall. A secret door slid open, and he stepped inside with Butch behind him.
I hesitantly sat down in the chair in front of his desk, doing my best to avoid eye contact with the Persian that kept its gaze locked on me. I knew there was nothing I could say to that Pokémon to make her help me escape; she was going to be loyal to Giovanni no matter what.
Suddenly, a noise that sounded like laughter erupted from the room behind the door; it made me jump in my seat. After they calmed down, the two men stepped out of the room with smirks on their faces.
"Excellent work, Butch," Giovanni said, clapping him on the back, "you've really outdone yourself on this mission."
"Much appreciated, Boss," Butch said, beaming with excitement.
I had a million questions; clearly it was about Mewtwo since he wasn't firing him.
"You may go, alert the others."
I felt my pulse begin to quicken when he said that.
"Alert the others about what?" I asked after Butch stepped out of the room again.
He walked back toward his desk and sat down again, eyeing me thoughtfully.
"There has been a slight change of plans," he said, ignoring my question and folding his hands together, "we will need more information on Mewtwo, as much as you can provide. You will remain here in the hideout until something comes to mind."
What?!
"Wait, I really don't know anything! You can't do this—"
"Oh, but I can, especially since you appear to have left your Pokémon at home," he said smugly.
"You can't keep me here! The police will come for me; you'll definitely regret this!" I cried.
"Is that so?"
Giovanni fixed his gaze toward me, and I was paralyzed.
"No one outside of Team Rocket has discovered this hideout since its creation, so the odds of that happening are pretty low. But there really is no reason for you to worry about your safety . . . as long as you comply, that is."
Eyes still on me, Giovanni extended a hand toward his desk and pushed the green button.
"You can go home after I have some information related to the whereabouts of Mewtwo."
There was a loud 'ding' before he said in a businesslike voice, "Grunt Kyle, come to my office."
It was only in a matter of seconds before there was a ding from the door outside. Giovanni opened it with the push of a different button, and Kyle walked in asking, "What is my assignment, sir?"
"Ah, see?"
Giovanni smiled and walked toward the young boy. He then proudly patted his shoulder and said, "This is a model Rocket. Why can't they all be like you, Kyle?"
"Thank you, sir," Kyle said in a voice full of reverence.
"Keep it up, your faithfulness will be rewarded one day."
Kyle stood there, glowing like a Sunflora. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
"Take Lilly to Room One Twenty-Four," Giovanni sat back in his big chair and tossed Kyle a shiny plastic card.
The grunt's face went from proud to shocked in a millisecond.
"R-Room One Twenty-Four?" Kyle repeated, his eyes widening as he clumsily caught the card.
"Is there a problem?"
"No sir, I'll take her there!" Kyle said determinedly.
"Off you go, then."
Kyle grabbed hold of my arm and quickly led me out of the room. As soon as the door slid shut behind us, I yanked my arm out of his grip.
"I'm perfectly capable of following you without your help, thanks."
"Hmph" was all he said.
Kyle walked down the hallway at a quick pace; I almost had to jog to keep up with him.
"What's wrong with room One Twenty-Four?" I huffed.
"Nothing," he muttered.
"Then why were you surprised when he said to take me there?"
"Just shut up and walk!"
I fell silent, but a moment later he blurted out, "Room One Twenty-Four is our best guest room!"
"O-Oh—"
"Why's he giving it to some stupid little girl like you? He should give it to his most loyal Rocket!" he shouted angrily, kicking a door he was passing.
"I look like a stupid little girl, but I am a reigning Champion," I shot back.
"Champion or not, you're nothing without your Pokémon," Kyle sneered.
He finally stopped in front of a slightly ornate steel door, whose nameplate read "Room 124". He held the card up to the door and it slid open. Then he grabbed my arm again and pulled me inside.
The room seemed about as basic as the one I made for Mewtwo at my house. The only real differences were the stainless-steel walls and floor, and a small black carpet on the left side of the bed.
I couldn't help but wonder what everyone else was living in if this was considered the "best guest room" in the facility.
"This is it, huh?" I asked, looking around.
"You get a rug and a queen-sized bed! Were you expecting a palace? Be grateful that you're getting this much!" he scoffed, shoving me full force inside.
I fell onto the bed as he backed out of the room, the door clicking as it slid out of the wall and locked.
"Let me out!" I screamed, getting up and hurling myself at the door.
Nobody answered. I pounded at the door with my fists, screaming at the top of my lungs. It was only when my hands began to hurt that I stopped and fell to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
At this point, my Pokémon were probably still in their Pokéballs, unaware that I was gone. And Mewtwo . . . he probably went to Ash. I sobbed harder when I thought of him.
But then it occurred to me: what would happen when Mewtwo told Ash about how I told him to go?
The thought made me stop crying.
How did I not think that far?!
I almost kicked myself for not thinking of this ahead of time. If Ash found out that I had told Mewtwo to leave . . . he would absolutely be confused. Then he would probably drag Mewtwo back to the house, discover the wreck that he and the Rocket Butch left . . .
I'm sure Mewtwo won't get involved, I tried to reassure myself, and maybe . . .the police are already looking for me if he went back home to investigate for himself.
I was slightly cheered by the thought.
Feeling too exhausted to do anything else, I picked myself up off the floor, lumbered over to the bed, and was asleep as soon as my head hit the hard, cold pillow.
