Hours blended together. Without the sun and stars to guide her, Yellow felt lost and confused.
Sometimes, in her deepest sleep, she could hear Mother Forest crying out for her return. Grieving and suffering as the still-bleeding wounds oozed with her forest burns. But the voice was faint now, disappearing into darkness before the small girl could grab ahold of it.
Nightmares hounded her from sleep. Fire. Smoke. ChuChu. The dogs' gnashing teeth. All the bathing and touching and barbaric devices.
Yellow did not want to fall into dreamland again, but that was all she could do in this tiny prison. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore. Begged until it hurt her throat. This tempest was thrashing her about, and there was not a thing she could do to fight it.
They brought food and drink twice a day, but she always left it untouched. It was meat, Yellow could tell, and someone had butchered it. The thought of eating a Pokemon friend made her throat swell up and her stomach churn. Even smelling it drew her into a depressive, frenzied state.
Poor Pokemon. There were apples. There were berries. There were even roots! Why did they have to kill a Pokemon for food? Yellow couldn't understand it; it was all so inhumane. Didn't they hear the poor creature beg for its life? Or want to go home to its family and friends?
Yellow just wanted to pretend it was an awful dream, and she was still asleep in her bed. Eventually, she gave up on that altogether and hoped that she could pass away quietly. A troubling thought that seared her soul.
After what felt like three days, a man in a white lab coat appeared along with an assistant. Yellow was too weak and scared to move, but she recognized him as the older doctor that treated her before. Aching rebellion stirred her veins.
"Will she need to be restrained for her physical, Doctor?" The assistant asked as the doctor mused over a chart.
"If she gets unruly. Young lady," He said to Yellow, "I am here to check your health. We have observed you to not eat or drink for days. Do you understand what is being asked of you?"
Yellow stared at him, hoping he would melt into the floor.
"Her comprehension comes and goes, it seems." He muttered, "Worse than a Pokemon. Nurse. Check her vitals. Anything below satisfactory will require immediate treatment."
The nurse hesitated, hearing about Yellow's behavior, but proceeded. One arm grab later and Yellow struggled. However, this nurse was not for her contentious behavior and open-hand slapped her across the face.
All the pain washed away with shock. Someone had never struck Yellow before, not even with Mother Forest's roots. Much less by a human. Her eyes welled up with choking, aching tears as the nurse hummed.
"Don't give me that." She scolded Yellow. "If you weren't so bad, you wouldn't get slapped."
That seemed to be the running logic in Team Rocket. Just obey or face a painful consequence. Yellow felt her smallness again, lowering her head to curl up. Each finger of the older woman was cold and spiteful as the examination continued.
"She's very weak." A fact. "We'll have to administer force-feeding, Doctor, or she may start losing organ functions."
Yellow's ears rang with danger again. That didn't sound good. She whined, trying to circumvent whatever was waiting for her. But the doctor wouldn't hear of it.
"Fetch for Archer, then. He'll have to sign off on force-feeding since Ariana is off-base." Her boss ordered, checking off an item. "We don't have time to waste."
Yellow felt a chill. Archer. All of her strength mustered up, and she squirmed more. Pain or no pain, she did not want that monster here again.
However, it seemed moot: "Doctor Sigo. You requested for me?"
The doctor seemed to stiffen, holding back his surprise. He turned around, seeing the elegant Executive standing behind him. His nurse glanced upwards, as if she was uncomfortable from standing near him, before she settled on a spot in the ceiling.
"Ah. You were in the area." A throat clear. "That's good you heard me. Somehow. Amarillo has not been eating or drinking voluntarily. Force-feeding must be administered to avoid severe health complications. Since Ariana is off-base, we require permission."
Yellow snapped under Archer's stare, struggling more with the nurse as the Rocket superior hummed. The nurse tried to whack her again but missed as Yellow ducked her face. Her teeth snapped to drive a wedge between the two.
"If you believe it to be best, Doctor," Archer agreed, "But I will oversee the procedure. Amarillo has not learned her societal cues, it seems. Ariana has stated, however, that necessary force is acceptable in dire emergency. But there will be no permanent disfigurement allowed on her skin."
"Look, Archer, if this girl attacks us, I can't—"
"If you feel you cannot accomplish this task, Doctor, we can find another who will."
Yellow could feel the quick breath from the medical professional as his voice dropped into silence. He pressed a button on a medical device, sending in several assistants with a strange-looking chair and plastic rubbery tubes. A bag of thick, sluggish fluid attached to a machine.
Her body instinctively moved backwards into a corner. "No! Leave me alone! It has meat! Meat!"
"Picky girl." Archer cut through her fearful rants. "We don't tolerate that here."
Everything boiled over for the former forest daughter as the agents grabbed her limbs. Her body flailed and wrestled, beaten down by the strength. Too many adults against one small child was an easy win for them.
"No! No! Leave me alone! Mother Forest! Mother Forest, please! Don't—!"
"Mother Forest, Mother Forest." The doctor mimicked her in exasperation. Archer flitted his eyes over the professionals as they restrained her in the chair.
"She's a child. Active imagination, coupled with eating psychedelic mushrooms and inadequate care. Forest fever. Poor child. We rescued her just in time." Archer remarked, as if to coat the situation. "Once her system is flushed out, and we indoctrinate her into proper society, these delusions will pass."
Yellow shrieked, using every tiny weapon at her disposal. Nails, teeth, legs, arms... but defeated with the quickness and elusiveness of a powerful adult. After some time, the restraints immobilized her.
Tears and snot ran down the girl's face, making her unable to breathe. The nurse wiped away her face, keeping her airways clear. A clear tube shoved down her left nostril, making her squirm in fresh pain and discomfort.
"I'll eat, I'll eat! St-stop! Stop!" Yellow begged, feeling the burn of a foreign object in her face.
"We're too far past that now, Amarillo." Archer chided her, "Relax and let the doctor finish. Struggling only makes it worse. It will be over soon."
Yellow whimpered, seeing and feeling the fluid enter the tube. It felt like she was snorting thick milk that kept coming. Trauma shocked her senses, freezing her still and quiet. Her mind boiled over into submission.
What was going on? The fluid was going down her throat, but not through the mouth. Her stomach felt stretched, unprepared for the onslaught. She wanted to vomit, but nothing was coming back up. Sensations of a fast rising blood sugar made Yellow feel dizzy.
Everything spiraled. Her brain begged to faint so she could be out of it, but one assistant held up her head.
Archer's horrible stare made it worse. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hurting kids? He might have considered it a side-effect of handling Rocket business. But Yellow could sense that he had a satisfaction of dealing power over those weaker than him.
After a few minutes, the bag was empty, and the tube removed. Yellow felt sicker than before as her belly hurt. It was hard to breathe through her nose and the doctor grabbed her face, checking her with a flashlight.
"No blockage." He announced, as if it was a good thing. "Someone should watch her to make sure she doesn't force-vomit. Perhaps your student Lancelot would be an excellent choice, Archer?"
"Lancelot is serving his punishment sentence. A female agent can watch her." Archer dismissed. "I have business to attend to in Goldenrod. If there is nothing further, Doctor…"
"We'll need permission to do this again if she doesn't comply."
"Then I will be back to oversee it if Ariana has not wrapped up by then."
That was all that Yellow needed to hear.
x
Yellow obeyed out of fear, eating her meals and sitting in her cell in silence. Her tears stopped, save for some occasional sniffling. She had wished that they could feed her anything besides meat, but she didn't have a choice.
"I'm sorry." She mumbled, chewing on some gris. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"
At least Yellow couldn't hear the thoughts of lifeless, sauteed cuisine.
x
"Wake up."
Yellow roused herself from sleep, lifting her head up from the pillow. What was in store for her now? She had done everything they wanted, even stopped crying. What more could they possibly want?
The same boy from before. Lancelot glared at her as she rubbed her eyes from sleep, annoyed that she was taking so long with something so simple.
"The Masters have arranged for you to move into your room." Lancelot stated, "I'm supposed to escort you. Follow me and don't run away."
Yellow nodded and got up from her bed, following the young boy. The thought of running or escape didn't even cross her mind as she feared the repercussions. Who knows what these people would do to her if she did?
Lancelot seemed stiffer. Much less riled up. His arms were straight at his sides, not daring to move an inch. Yellow could sense the spiritual connection in him had dampened significantly, making him dull and hard.
He seemed to have a rough week too.
Yellow stepped outside of her tiny prison, seeing a bright and metallic hallway greet her. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating every inch of the place in a burning, irritating brightness. There were no signs or pictures on the wall, devoid of life and creative spirit.
Even the floor was cold and shiny. Lancelot's boots made a thump with every step, hurting her head with the echoing. Things were so loud here. Not muffled or soft like Mother Forest.
The two children approached a wall that had one swirl designed hidden in the metal paneling. Lancelot tapped it and Yellow felt her feet come out from under her small body. In a blink of an eye, her body shut out of existence and came back again just as fast.
Her prior meal heaved in her stomach. Lancelot glanced at her, not taking too much stock in her state.
"It's a Warp Tile." He stated, as if that answered everything. "It's how we get around. The base is enormous."
Yellow covered her mouth, catching the bile-saliva threatening to spill on the floor. Lancelot resumed his walking, making his companion follow.
After a few minutes, there was another door. Dread rose in her stomach. Another sunless prison with more torture? Lancelot motioned her inside as he pressed a button. Quick spurting of beeping came on.
"VISUAL RECOGNITION ACTIVATED. TEAM ROCKET ASSET LANCELOT, #W-34456."
Yellow jumped, perplexed. Was there a tiny person in there? She peered at it, trying to glimpse the gremlin. However, the booming voice came back.
"VISUAL RECOGNITION ACTIVATED. TEAM ROCKET ASSET AMARILLO, #W-52093."
"Hey!" She said, jumping back. "How come it knows me?"
"Your information is in the system." Lancelot said, his tone flat. "It's how it can tell where you're supposed to go."
The door slid open and Lancelot pushed her in. Yellow stumbled a little, trying not to fall flat on her face. This floor was very unusual, especially since she was so used to steady feet on forest groundcover.
"This is your room." The boy stated, his face still devoid of emotion. "You will sleep and eat here when you're not doing tasks. Keep it clean. You also have to stay here when you're not assigned to anything, so the Masters can monitor you."
Yellow observed her new residence; the room was tiny, suffocating her. A twin bed pushed up against the right wall, neatly made with a gray wool blanket and white sheets. A small desk sat next to the bed. Some supplies were on it, but Yellow couldn't see anything that might be useful to escape. One dresser was across the room with only a few drawers.
Yellow wished she could summon the energy to cry again. Like the rest of this place, there were no pictures or happiness anywhere. Just more gray, metallic, bright coldness.
"I'm supposed to come get you tomorrow to show you where you'll get tutoring," Lancelot said, watching Yellow twirl her ponytail around her finger, "And where the training room is. But you can't be anywhere else unless the Masters say so. They don't trust you yet."
"Where do you sleep?" Yellow suddenly asked, wondering if Lancelot was nearby so they could play.
"Down the hall." He answered, "The Masters are on the other side of the wing. But there are cameras, and we get checked on regularly by other Rocket agents. We…"
Lancelot paused, his expression falling into worry as if he forgot something important. He lifted his gaze up to the ceiling, expecting to be smitten by an unfeeling god at any moment. His throat quivered as he tried to gather his thoughts.
"Uh... uh... we…"
Yellow stared, wondering if she could help. However, Lancelot immediately snapped back into his previous robotic personality.
"We have to behave and be quiet at all times. The Masters dislike loud, noisy children running down the halls. Your uniforms are in the wardrobe and your boots are under the bed. You're expected to wear it at all times and keep it clean."
Uniform. Like Lancelot's. Reality was sinking in.
"I have to go. Sleep for tomorrow." Lancelot stated, gesturing towards her desk. "There's an alarm clock. Wake yourself up. Don't make the Masters wake you up or else."
Yellow could spot a small silver machine next to her bed. But it had numbers and notches in it. She cocked her head, looking rather perturbed by it.
"... Uh. Lancelot? What's a clock?"
The boy's stare could have burned a hole in her. "What? What are you talking about?"
"A clock. What's a clock?" Yellow repeated, feeling stupid as the stare went on. "Um. I don't... know what it means."
Lancelot seemed conflicted, as if he didn't prepare for this. He looked back at the ceiling again, as if questioning on what to do next. When no tangible answer came, he straightened up and walked over to her desk.
"A clock keeps time." He answered, quite tense. "Time is very important here. See these numbers? When this smaller line is on here, it's that time of day. When the longer line moves, it's that minute. Right now, it's 10:45 p.m."
Yellow looked even worse now. There were parts to a clock? Her stomach knotted again.
"What's a Pee-Em?" She enunciated, trying to emulate his wording. Lancelot narrowed his eyes, now frustrated.
"It means night. It's nighttime. Morning is A.M." His words sounded sharp, not slow and drawn. "We have to get up for training and classes in the morning. Mor-ning. You know what a morning is, right?"
Yellow stuck her lip out. "Yes! But don't you use a sun and moon and-"
"Why would you?" His question seemed more puzzled than annoyed. "We don't have a view of the sky, duh."
Duh. What's a 'duh'? Yellow didn't want to ask this time. Maybe she can pick up on it later.
"The little hand is...is the…"
"Hour."
"And the big hand is...the…"
"Minute and second."
Yellow now looked frustrated. "You didn't say second!"
"It's implied! Seconds make up minutes, you—!" Lancelot was out of his apathy stage and into pure vexation. "—60 seconds make up one minute. 60 minutes make up one hour. Twenty-four hours make up one day. Seven days make up one week. Four weeks make up one month. Twelve months make up one year and that's how long I've been explaining this to you."
Her nose wrinkled. "Have not."
"It feels like it!" Lancelot fired back. "Just shut up and wake up when the alarm goes off. You can ask your tutor about clocks tomorrow. I have to do my overnight work and wake up tomorrow. You should go to sleep. We can't be late, not even a minute."
"Which is one second!"
"Sixty seconds, you—" Lancelot stopped, looking up at the ceiling. "Um. I should go. The alarm will wake you up and you have ten minutes to get ready. I'll be by tomorrow."
Yellow grabbed his sleeve before he could turn around, making him swat her hand away. "What's an alarm?"
"You'll know." Ominous. "Any other time-wasting questions?"
Her head spun. Sixty seconds. An hour. 10:45 p.m.
"What does P.M stand for?" Yellow was careful to repeat it correctly this time.
Lancelot blinked, his face crestfallen. It filled every line in his face with worry and confusion. Yellow got the distinct feeling that the older boy was searching for answers in his narrow worldview in order to appear all-knowing. However, his swallow made it apparent that she had stumped him.
"You should ask your tutor." He said, stammering. "I told you. You don't listen. You should listen and stop asking questions. I have to go."
With that, Lancelot bolted.
x
Lancelot was right. Yellow knew what an alarm was now.
Loud, shrill ringing jolted her out of sleep. At first, Yellow screamed as she had intense flashbacks of the forest fire and kidnapping. She had slipped into a frozen state as the ringing went on and on, ready to faint.
However, she pulled herself together long enough to figure out the ringing came from her bedside clock. Yellow was too scared to touch it, believing it would attack her mercilessly.
After a few practice bats, she could shut it off by slamming her hand on the top. Beautiful silence filled the room, making her heart slow down. Yellow had enough of this place and now, she has to be woken up by a horrible memory every day.
Her bones ached. She couldn't sleep in this room. Too much pain and misery locked away between four walls.
Yellow rubbed her head. Sleep sounded good. Should make her feel better. The bed was more comfortable than her cell, but still not the same as home. Yellow shivered, pulling the blanket to her chin.
However, a loud pounding prevented her from going further. "Are you ready yet? Hurry!"
Lancelot again! He said he would stop by. Yellow buried her head into the pillow, hoping he'd stop soon. But the pounding increased.
"Will you get up!? We'll be late!"
She gave in, approaching the door, and it opened. Lancelot was standing there in full uniform, groomed and primed for a new day. His eyes turned into saucers, seeing her sleep clothes and raggy appearance.
"You haven't even showered?! You... come on!"
He grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her down the hall. Yellow struggled, trying to pull him backwards as her sore and still-healing feet slid across the freezing ground. The lights were blurring her vision, too bright for her sleepy head.
"Let me go, you bully! Let me—!"
"Shut up." Lancelot barked, "You have to take a shower. It's the rules."
He finally stopped near the end of the hall, pushing her towards an open tiled hallway. Yellow had enough, extending her hand out for a slap like the nurse did to her. However, Lancelot was quicker and twisted her arm behind her as she yelped.
"Hurry." He ordered, pushing her inside. "We'll be late."
Yellow felt like someone had kicked her in the ribs. She rubbed her arm, glaring at him through tears, as she made her way inside.
It was a tiny little room with tiles and metal contraptions sticking out of walls. A big white stone was in the corner. There was a small mirror with another white stone, upright this time, beneath it.
What was this? Another torture room? Yellow could only stare as Lancelot called out.
"Have you started yet?"
"Uhm…" She rubbed her sore arm again. "Lancelot? Uhm…"
A rustle. "You're kidding."
"No…?"
"...I... I can't go in there with you, Amarillo. You...have to…" Lancelot's voice shook, as if he was at a loss, "Do it...yourself."
"Why?"
"Because you're a dumb girl! Okay. Just wait."
After a couple of seconds, Yellow saw Lancelot poke his head in. A thick cloth covered his eyes as he reached out, trying to feel for his surroundings. The young Rocket child had gotten some bearing on his location as he made his way towards her.
"You better listen up fast." He snapped, already at his limit for the day. "Okay. Take your clothes off."
Yellow shrugged. Clothes were dumb anyway. She pulled off her itchy clothes, happy to breathe. Maybe she could walk around naked like she used to in the forest. Lancelot sensed the clothes falling towards the floor, now very hesitant.
"See that?" He pointed to a general direction away from the white stone boulders, "That's the shower. The water to wash yourself comes from that. Clean up and get dressed afterwards. You pull the knob and water comes out."
Unsure, Yellow pulled the knob and a rush of cold water spat in her face. "Hey! It's freezing!"
"We're not in a spa!" Lancelot returned, "Hurry. The soap should be nearby. It's a white looking lump. You use it on your skin. Wash off the bubbles."
The girl pursed her lips. It smelled funny. She wasn't putting that on her. She motioned to Lancelot before remembering he couldn't see.
"It's gross."
"It's the only thing you got. Shut up. Go. We're going to be late."
Lancelot didn't have to be so mean. She scrubbed her skin quickly, feeling her lips turn blue from the cold water. At least she was more alert now. But the crawling sensation of someone watching her shower, even blindfolded, made her remember the first bath she had here.
Yellow decided, right then, she didn't like baths.
"Done?" A worn out question by now. "Wash it off. Turn off the knob. There's a towel. It's, uh, a fuzzy thing near you. You use it to dry off."
Yellow found it quickly. The towel felt warmer than this shower. She liked towels now. It felt like Mother Forest and all of her Pokemon friends hugging her. The reminder of ChuChu made her depressed again, however.
Lancelot was getting antsy. His heels were bouncing, as if he had a fire under his butt. Even though he couldn't see, he was still looking up at the ceiling. He could run a mile in a second if he had the opportunity.
"Okay. Get dressed." He fired off another order. Yellow looked at her sleep clothes.
"... In my old clothes?" Seemed silly to wash and then put on the same clothes again.
A very loud groan. Yellow could see the color drain from his face. It seemed Lancelot forgot a step in his haste. One mistake he'll pay for later.
"Just... okay. We have to move on. I'll get you back to get dressed." He realigned his goals. "There's a toothbrush on the sink. Brush your teeth. Use the bathroom too while I check outside. And hurry!"
Is Lancelot capable of saying anything else besides hurry?
Yellow watched him run outside, and she observed the room. On the upright stone, there was a stick with hair at the end and some tube. Remembering Uncle Wilton's reminders, she put the toothpaste on and stuck it in her mouth.
Brush. Brush teeths. That's what he kept saying.
She brushed, and after a bit, a blindfolded Lancelot wandered back into the room. Yellow spat out the toothpaste and felt Lancelot's glare at her inadequacy to hurry up burn at her. Shifting her feet, she felt small again.
"Are you done?" He demanded.
A nod.
"I'm going to assume that's yes."
Right. Can't see. Yellow recalled that now.
Lancelot turned around, grabbing her wrist, and pulled her out. The recruit could see him lift his blindfold to check the hallway, as if this was a mission of the highest importance. He took another glance above, as if he was praying for something, before slipping it back on.
"Okay. Keep that towel on. Don't lose it. I'll get you back. Follow me and run."
Yellow nodded. Lancelot rushed off, sprinting down the hallway, and making Yellow race after him. Her little hands gripped the towel, wondering why she couldn't just run without it. It seemed to hold her back.
After a minute, a panting boy got her door open. "Inside! Go! Get dressed! We're going to be late!"
Yellow got shoved inside and the door hissed shut. Hearing Lancelot snap commands at her was the last thing she wanted right now, so her hands flew to the dresser where he said the uniform was.
Her uniform was like Lancelot's except it had a skirt. The long sleeves and high turtleneck collar made her feel restricted. A red "R" was over her heart, and the word "ROCKET" on the right side of the collar.
Yellow wished she had her clothes from Uncle Wilton back. Shoving the turtleneck over her head, she struggled with the skirt. Stupid thing had this built-in gusset. Why make her wear extra clothes, like underwear, if they were going to add it on?
"Are you ready? It's easy to figure out!"
Yellow shoved on her boots and hurried out, tying her hair back. "There are too many clothes!"
"And you forgot one!" Lancelot berated, "Your hat!"
"It's just a dumb hat!"
"Don't be stupid! They punish you for uniform violations! Hurry!"
She ducked back in and grabbed her hat, shoving it on her head. This was the worst morning she ever had.
"Come on!" Lancelot barked, racing down the hall as she tried to keep up, "We're going to be late for physical training!"
"It's early…" Yellow whined, "And you're being mean, like a bully!"
"Too bad!" He snapped, "Hurry!"
Someone should stitch 'hurry' across Lancelot's uniform. Yellow pouted as he tapped a Warp Tile, feeling the sensation of blinking in and out of existence again. This was too much for her to go through right now.
Another dash. Lancelot was hauling his rear as Yellow struggled to keep up. The hallways zoomed across her vision as her chest burned. It was a good thing she used to run in the forest or she'd be out!
"I can't be late. I can't be late." Lancelot was muttering to himself. "Master hates lateness. I can't be late. Oh, please don't let me be late!"
Finally, the two arrived at an extensive set of metallic sliding doors. Lancelot threw himself at them, flinging his body through the entrance. Yellow followed suit, almost knocking into her guide as the two children gasped for air.
"Lancelot. I almost didn't believe you'd make it."
It was an older woman with a clean cut uniform and thin leggings. Her short brown hair cut into a bob as her trimmed nails tapped on her arm. Yellow saw every scar and wrinkle in her face, confused on why she was there.
"Lieutenant Luna." Lancelot bowed his head. "I had to bring Amarillo here. Master Archer said I had to escort her. She took awhile."
The older woman checked something on her wrist. "Ten seconds to spare. I can let Archer know you were timely. But you know he wants you to arrive fifteen minutes early."
Lancelot bowed, "Thank you, Lieutenant Luna. I understand."
"If you're on time, you're late."
"Yes, Lieutenant Luna. I know. I know. I promise to be early next time."
"Durant is going to be your trainer this morning. Archer has requested you work on close combat quarters since you only received above satisfactory marks the last time." Luna said, gesturing towards the end of the room. "Move it."
Lancelot obeyed, racing off and leaving Yellow alone. She didn't appreciate it, but seeing this Luna woman stare at her made the girl wish Lancelot was there.
"So, you are the new child." Luna commented. "You're tiny. I don't think there's anything here that'll fit you."
Yellow scrunched up her face. "I didn't want to come here, anyway."
"Funny." A curl of a smirk. "You should know that no trainer in Team Rocket will take sass from a child. If you want to get through your training sessions alive, I suggest you watch your tongue. If not, keep talking back. I'm sure there's a child-sized grave we can stick you in."
The color drained from the girl's face, making her look down at the ground. Luna tapped her nail against her wrist again, checking it.
"Orientation will be fast and we'll get started. I will be your assigned physical trainer today. Follow."
Yellow obeyed, but when Luna turned around, she stuck her out her tongue. Watch her tongue? Impossible. Her eyes couldn't look down that far.
"From 4:00 A.M to 6:00, you will have training drills and sparring practice," Luna stated, "You will then shower and dress in your everyday uniform afterwards. I expect that your training uniform will be clean and free of holes at all times."
Yellow rubbed her eyes, "But I am sleepy…"
"Movement will wake you up." The agent seemed unimpressed, "Besides morning training, you will also have evening training sessions on weekends. That will evaluate your progress. Your Master will observe you when needed. I suggest you do your best work then. Anything less than above-satisfactory will not be tolerated."
All the young girl could do was nod now. Luna shoved a stack of clothes at her, making Yellow falter a little under the weight.
"Get changed. Over there is a changing room." Luna jerked her thumb towards another tiled hallway. "You have an assigned locker out here so nobody can mess with it. Other agents will come and go. I expect you to keep your mouth shut and shower by yourself. If, however, any agent peeks at you, let me know."
Yellow nodded. "Lancelot put something over his eyes this morning."
"Good boy. He learned his lesson. Boys have to be taught young." Luna seemed amused. "He's a child, though. Curious more than perverted. When he peeped at Agent Lixue, I made sure he dry-heaved after I made him run the obstacle course multiple times. 'Course, when Archer found out…"
Luna trailed off, somewhat perturbed by the memory.
"... Well. Archer fixes things in a hurry. Lancelot won't go near a naked woman ever again in his life, I'm sure. Probably how the Executive likes it. Keeps Lancelot's future libido out of his work, I'm sure."
The young girl bit her lip. None of that sounded appealing. But why did everyone care so much?
"Well, Amarillo, let's get started. Get changed and run two miles, just for sticking out that little tongue."
x
Yellow couldn't walk. Her knees were buckling, unable to stand upright any longer. Luna tapped her wrist again, impatient as the child struggled to step forward.
"Up!" She ordered. "You lived in a forest and ran around in filth. Don't tell me you can't walk!"
All these nasty comments about the forest! Yellow was getting really sick of hearing them. If only she could bite Luna, but considering her trainer could throw her across a room, it would be best to keep her teeth in her mouth.
Luna watched the girl stumble forward before she held her hand up to stop her.
"Go shower and change. You have lessons soon."
A welcome relief. Yellow trudged to the showers, seeing some adults loitering around. They all seemed so quiet, staring right into their lockers or at the floor. Nobody was talking to each other, save for some rough greetings.
However, once Yellow approached the showers, all the women turned to stare at her. A sinking feeling dropped into her stomach.
"That's the new kid."
"Oh yeah. I heard about her. They got her from the forest."
"The one where-?"
"Yeah. She's like the other one."
All the comments hurt. Yellow wanted to cry again, but a young woman approached her.
Tall. Shapely. Long brown hair braided back into a ponytail. Strikingly beautiful with her training outfit. She had this hint of appeal in her step and in her eyes, as if she was ready to pounce on the next opportunity.
"You shouldn't loiter here." A warning. "The men can see you."
Yellow blinked. Men?
"Come on. Shower." The woman pressed again. "How old are you?"
A lowered gaze, afraid to speak. Every time she opened her mouth, it was something new and horrible waiting for her. After a few seconds, the woman darted her eyes towards her colleagues before lightly pushing Yellow away.
"You look too young for an Aunt Flo. Don't look back. If some men catch you, they'll come after you."
Yellow despaired, "Should I get L-Luna?"
"No. Luna will overreact. If those men think you cause trouble, they'll…" Another pause. "Some men think women should be silent and pretty. That's all I'll say. Ariana will tell you more later."
Ariana. The former princess kept hearing that name. Who was she? She seemed to wield a mysterious feminine power that protected Yellow when she least expected it. It was obvious from the woman's tone that she was the most respected woman in the ranks.
Yellow saw another row of showers, some filled with women. More stares, but they seem to accept her as one of them right away. In the wildest way, she felt much more safe and accepted in this area than anywhere else.
Another woman with a pink shaved hairstyle was leaning against a mirror, seeing Yellow. A scoff.
"They get 'em young these days."
"Theros. Lay off." A sharp retort, "She already went through Archer."
Yellow could see a faint relapse in the other woman's face, "Oh fuck. He's not that much of a creep, right? I thought he-"
"No. I just heard he oversaw some force-feeding." A quick interruption. "Even Archer has some ethics. He won't go after a little girl, even though there are some guys here who would."
"Not with you. Did he transfer you to his team? Or has Ariana told him to fuck off? I fucking hate these Executives. Always with the macho-cock-in-hand-jerkoff bullshit. I hope the next Executive is a woman." Theros put her hand on her hip. "They've been talking about it for years."
"Shh. Not too loud."
"Right. Girl, what's your name?" Theros directed her next question at Yellow. "Armadillo or something, right?"
"Amarillo." Yellow found her voice clear now. "But... I like being called Yellow."
"Well, we can call you whatever we want back here." Theros stated. "There are no cameras here. Ariana fought for that. Creepy motherfuckers were lookin' at them. Anyway. I'm Elite Agent Theros. This savior of yours is Elite Captain Lixue. You're lucky."
Yellow frowned, "I don't feel lucky."
"Lucky for Team Rocket." A quick correction. "Hurry and shower. We can only be in here so long before the trainers get suspicious."
"She's right." Lixue agreed. "Yellow. We'll stand watch here. But you'll have to do this yourself soon."
Yellow stepped into the shower, seeing another knob. Remembering Lancelot's instructions, she turned it on and the cold water struck her again. But this time, a chatter was happening outside her stall.
"Lixue, really, he's getting mad creepy. He's going to get into your room."
"There's nothing I can do. He's Giovanni's second in command. Even Ariana can't…"
"Ariana is fucking Giovanni. Surely she can do something!"
"Some things are thicker than blood and sex, Theros."
"He offered you a position as his lead lieutenant. A cozy desk job and the best missions, all if you bend over his desk and take it. What a fucking weirdo. I heard he started anatomy lessons with that kid of his. What if you're next on the slab?"
"I can't... Theros, don't... there's nothing I can do."
The shower cut off. It seemed to be on a timer. Yellow stepped out, and the women ceased their conversation. A mask of toughness reappeared on their faces, making sure that they could not be mistaken for weak.
"Hurry, kid."
x
Lancelot was waiting for her outside the training room.
"Thank you, Lixue." Yellow said as she saw her companion. "Um. I have to go to...somewhere else."
"Be safe." A quiet whisper before she straightened up. "And hurry next time. I don't have all day to be escorting children."
The boy perked up upon hearing the older woman's voice. "Elite Captain Lixue! Uh. I...I have…"
Lixue pretended to not notice his red face. "Lancelot. I suppose your master is nearby."
Lancelot shook his head, "No. He's… um. I have to go to two-two-ring. Tutoring! With Amarillo. I'm supposed to show her. I...I like your braids."
A ghost of a smile, just fast enough to vanish. "Thank you, Lancelot. But hurry along. If you're on time, you're late."
Yellow had never seen a bigger smile than what was on Lancelot's face right now. She could even see his perfect back teeth shining. A swelling rippled through her heart. Maybe not all these Rockets were hurtful and cruel. Some might just be human.
"Elite Captain Lixue. Done with training?" A calm question from nowhere.
A visible change in all three of them. Yellow dropped her head back down. Lancelot dropped his smile back into a stone-face gaze. Lixue tensed up and turned on her heel.
"Archer." She greeted, much too polite to be nice. "I haven't started. I was taking Amarillo outside."
The ghoul of Archer standing only a few feet away, permeating each of their skin like a terrible disease. He mused over the sight, thinking of whatever moves he had to make next, and it fixated on the young woman.
"I believe that's why Luna was available?" His question tinged with hidden venom. "But. I wanted to speak to you. Lancelot. Take Amarillo to the tutors. Lixue and I have something to discuss."
Yellow looked up at Lixue, seeing her hesitation. Every string and thread of her feminine knowledge told her not to leave her alone, but Lancelot pulled at her.
"Come on." He gruffly said. "We'll be late."
No choice. Yellow watched the two fade into the distance. But even so far away, the young girl could tell Archer was dangerously close to Lixue.
x
One cold breakfast was waiting for Yellow after Lancelot dropped her off.
The tutoring room, as he called it, was a tiny room that had one little chair with an attached surface to write on. A desk, he said. No windows and no way out. Only some green wall at the front, which gave Yellow some relief.
Color existed here. Kind of.
A woman was waiting for her. Young, crisp, clean, with black hair and hard coal eyes. Ready to suck the life from Yellow.
"I am Agent Prima. I will be your tutor." Curt, as Yellow knew now. "Eat breakfast. And fast. We have much to cover."
Yellow didn't think she chewed. Rubbery eggs, cold chunks of meat, and some tasteless fruits. Nothing like her Mother Forest's bounty. Just cheap substitutions.
"Tutoring is six days a week, starting at 7 A.M until 5 P.M." Prima started her lecture. "You will eat breakfast here for fifteen minutes. I expect you to stay awake and pay attention. In order to ensure that, you will have assignments to complete. You will bring all your textbooks and supplies every day. Do you understand?"
Learning. Yellow's least favorite thing to do. She glanced at the door. "Uhm. But...I never…"
"I know. They filled me in. We're going to test you and your knowledge. Inspire me."
Stacks of paper. Stacks of forms. Nothing to show to her how to do it or perform. Yellow didn't understand any of it. More and more kept coming at her, giving her no time to rest. Math, science, history, even language!
Afterwards, her little hand cramped up. Prima sighed, looking over the results as if they were revolting to her. An actual disgusted curl of the lip was clear.
"Looks like somebody got homeschooled. At least you can write your name. Poorly, might I add?"
The girl frowned. "I'm not stupid."
"Yes, yes, a goldfish and climbing a tree. I get all that. We'll have to lay the groundwork," The tutor stated, "I will assign you schoolwork that you must complete before leaving. You will also have overnight work that will be turned in by the next morning."
Yellow fidgeted. All that sounded hard. "Yes, Agent Prima."
"Your progress and grades are sent to your Master. They also approve of your curriculum." Prima continued, "For now, these are your textbooks. I have to meet with Ariana personally about all of...this."
She dropped a stack of thick, hardcover books in front of her student. Yellow thought she was going to drown in all of this.
"All that…?"
"Don't be ridiculous," The older woman said, dropping another stack of books, "These as well."
Yellow slumped forward. Exhaustion was creeping in. Just a week ago, her biggest worry was including all of her Pokemon friends in her games. Now, she had to worry about numbers and dates for tests.
"Now," Prima leaned over, "Let's make one thing clear. You throw an attitude with me—like you did with others—and I won't hesitate to smack the attitude right out of your skull. Trust me. I came from Field Operations. They did not pick me for Ariana's Elite Squad because a snobby little Elite Captain hates my guts. I am not in the mood to take anyone's shit. So I have to do this until you get smarter. Which we're going to do? Got it, Amarillo?"
A glare, but still silent.
"Good. Hate works well here. Let's get started."
x
After what seemed like an eternity, Prima let Yellow leave.
"Read chapters one through five. Arithmetic from pages fifteen to thirty-two. The history questionnaire and the grammar notebook." The tutor instructed, wiping away the chalk from the board. "Go. Out."
Yellow lugged her books, ready to fall asleep. How was she to get all of this done?
"Where are you going? We have Pokemon training." Lancelot's voice cut her thoughts in half. Yellow turned around, trying to not let the books slip from her grip.
"I...I have all this…"
"Oh? Yeah. Don't care. We have to go." Dismissive, almost snickering. "Come on. Carry those books better. You rip them, the Masters will rip you a new one."
How she walked to the next room was beyond Yellow's understanding, but she got there. Yellow collapsed, her books falling to the floor, as a middle-aged man stood near the entrance.
"Lancelot." The man greeted him. "Go inside. Your loaners are ready."
"Do I get a dragon?" Lancelot's eyes perked up, his mood forgotten, "Did we get a Gyarados? Or...or...something strong? Like Dragonite?"
"A Gyarados? Dragonite? Kid. You're asking me for a dragon? At your age? Get real." A snort. "Besides, the only Gyarados we have got taken by an agent for Giovanni's method of training. And if we ever gain a Dragonite, I'll suck Giovanni's dick myself. A Dragonite. Those are rare, and the only trainers who have 'em aren't losing 'em."
The boy appeared dismayed. "Oh. I thought...maybe…"
"When you get a dragon, you'll be running this place yourself. Now get." His trainer cocked his head inside. As Lancelot left, the older agent grumbled to himself.
"Every damn day, that kid asks for a dragon. Charizard! Dragonite! Gyarados! A new one, every fucking day...ever since he saw that red Gyarados video, that's all he talks about…"
Yellow coughed, making him stir.
"Right. You. You're the new one?" He straightened up. "Come. I may only have you for two hours but you will work when you're here. I don't like slackers and I don't like excuses."
Yellow shivered, following. This new training room was immense, even bigger than the morning one. The floors were deep, as if panels existed underneath them, and the ceiling was very high. She glanced up, wondering if the trees of Mother Forest would fit here.
Other agents were hanging around, ignoring the two for now. But Yellow heard something new now: Pokemon! Even though the sounds were muffled, she could hear Pokemon again! Excitement coursed through her, giving her some energy. She could have friends here!
"I am Head Trainer Luka. Your training starts at 5:15 p.m., Monday through Saturday. On Sunday, you will train from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m.," He explained, "We will provide Your Pokemon to you. Do you already have a type preference?"
She shrugged. There were so many Team Rocket titles, she couldn't keep track. "Cute ones? I like the friendly..."
Luka didn't seem to be happy with her comment, "They said you used to train a female Pikachu."
Yellow hugged herself, "I don't know. I don't... battle. What's training? I play with Pokemon. Is training like playing?"
Another burning stare. "No."
That was a blow to her. She wanted to cry now. Luka threw open a set of doors, revealing rows and rows of Pokeballs behind locked cases.
A shudder ripped through Yellow as a flood of Pokemon thoughts rammed into her mental state. She collapsed to the floor as it covered her brain in random, fleeting thoughts.
"Amarillo?" Luka's voice became fuzzy. "Something the matter?"
"Help me!"
"Where am I? Where am I?"
"Don't take me out again! Please!"
"Let me out! Let me out!"
"Pokemon...Pokemon are…" Yellow stammered, "They're hurting. Inside. Inside."
She felt a pair of arms pick her up and set her back on her feet. Her hands went up to her ears, trying to block out the pain and anguish. Luka brushed her off, now irritated with her behavior.
"Don't use that to get out of training." He scolded her. "Lancelot hears Pokemon all the time. He doesn't complain."
That didn't make her feel any better.
x
Yellow was so exhausted. She could hardly keep her little head up. Her muscles were too weak and sore to even eat dinner. A stack of textbooks sat on her desk along with Pokemon reference guides and strategy theories.
Her first day as an actual Team Rocket member and she was ready to pack it all in. Just go to sleep and not wake up in this place. Anything else would be a blessing right now. After all she had seen...
Mother Forest missed her. Even though Yellow couldn't hear her right now, she knew. What the girl would give to see the wind rustle through the leaves and the sound of happy Pokemon feet scampering through the ground...
Yellow closed her eyes for a second and before she knew it, an icy touch pressed on her neck. She jumped out of her chair, fearing that someone would hurt her.
"You should not be asleep, Amarillo."
The young girl covered her mouth, seeing Archer stand over her. She tried to not think why his hands were cold as ice or how he got into her room without her noticing. Theros's words from earlier echoed in her brain. Creep. A fucking creep, whatever that meant.
And why did Archer hang around random hallways? Or show up suddenly? Did he have a Warp Tile tucked under his jacket?
"You seem surprised to see me." He noted, making her look down. "As if I wouldn't know where you were?"
"You... uhm, got into my…" A look at the door. "Room."
"Executives have top clearance. To check on you for your safety." Archer said, "I can access any room I like. There's no hiding from your Masters, Amarillo. At least, not in these walls."
Was that a threat? All the women seemed so uncomfortable around him. Yellow should be more guarded too, if that was the case. Then again, they claimed Archer wasn't after little girls, but women. Like Lixue.
Suddenly, Lixue's discomfort made more sense to Yellow. If Archer could access any room he liked...
"It's time to meet your assigned Master," He told her, interrupting her train of thought. "Follow."
Yellow slid out of her chair, her mind a hazy mess as she walked behind him. Why won't they let her sleep? Why won't they give her a break? She couldn't go on much longer than this. Eventually, the recruit might drop dead.
"Where are we going?" Her question was tepid. "Where's Lancelot?"
"Lancelot is my concern. Not yours." Archer corrected her. "He is my student. Keep up, Amarillo. I do not dawdle."
Fifteen minutes early. Late if on time. Now it all made sense.
Archer took her to a nearby hallway that she had never seen before. While it looked the same as the others, there was a special gate that blocked entry. A specific keypad and lock combination was out in front.
Her guide pressed his two fingers and thumb against the plate before the gate swung open. Yellow swallowed, feeling him push her into the hallway.
"You would not normally come here." Archer stated, "This is the Executive Hallway. Only us three can be here, aside from Giovanni."
"Three? Three…?"
"Executives. Myself, Ariana, and Petrel. Petrel is off-base, handling field operations. Ariana has gotten back minutes ago and is behind schedule. However, she's agreed to meet you at her room—which you cannot be in otherwise." He explained, stressing his words, "If we catch here you without excellent reason, punishment will be severe."
More rules.
However, a loud crash was nearby, making Yellow jump out of her boots. Sudden shrieking, petulant and childish, burst through the silence. A door slam later and Yellow was face-to-face with a curious sight.
Another child. This time, a small boy with red hair and purple eyes. An affixed scowl written across his chubby face. Definitely a heavy air of snobby and assumed arrogance that surrounded him.
The boy looked at Archer and then Yellow, as if he was deciding something in a heartbeat. Moments later, another shrill took her by surprise.
"I don't understand why I cannot see my father!" A demand spiked with spoiled behaviors. "You Executives are all stupid! You cannot understand the easiest task! Why are you standing there? Take me to my father now, Archer!"
Yellow thought that Archer would strike that obstinate boy into the ground. Shove a few feeding tubes down his throat to shut him up. However, the Executive didn't change a beat as he addressed his verbal abuser.
"Silver. Your father is in Kalos now. He will be back later this week." Clear. Calm. Not hurried in the slightest sense. "You are to be in your room now."
"I don't want to be in my room! I want to talk to my father!" Another demand, harsher now. "You dumb Executive! Father will hear of this!"
Archer hummed. "I'm sure, Silver. Your father hears of everything."
The boy's glare was powerful, but not enough to bring the man to his knees. After a couple of seconds, he turned his anger and lack of control towards silent Yellow.
"Who is she?" A jeer, making Yellow stiffen. "Another one? Is she the forest girl that everyone is talking about? She looks stupid, like Lancelot. Where did you find this one, in a dumpster?"
Archer motioned towards her. "This is Amarillo. She is a forest child. Silver. Back to your room. You have art lessons."
"Don't tell me what to do, Archer." Silver snapped. "Or I will tell Father about you making fun of me."
Yellow was astonished. Did this boy lie and use it against Archer to get what he wanted? For nothing more than being able to stay out of his room? Lancelot made so as a peep, and the Rocket Executive punished him into a walking catatonic state.
However, Archer wasn't buying it. "You know you shouldn't lie, Silver. Or blackmail me. Your father trusts me to watch over you. Perhaps you should find a better and more effective piece of evidence to use against me?"
Silver's face fell, shoving aside Yellow to walk away without another word.
"I'm sorry, Amarillo." Archer cleared his throat. "Please, excuse him. He's rather cranky that his father called away suddenly. This way."
"Who was that, Master Archer?" Yellow watched after the boy's figure down the hall. "And who is his father?"
To that, Archer didn't answer. Instead, he tapped a few buttons on a nearby door.