A Reason
Capturing all three siblings proved a much less daunting task than I had anticipated.
Perhaps this, like many other events preluding my eventual and hubristic downfall, should have made me realize the severity of my actions.
Power, as they say, twists and corrupts. An epiphany that came at the cost of all that I loved, but one I'm happy to have received nonetheless.
I just wish it could have arrived to me sooner.
Metchi sat alongside Sanbica, trying her best not to glance her way every few seconds.
She was still here. Why was she still here? Not that she minded the company of a cute girl –that's what she was in the hunt for, after all– but she couldn't help but feel somewhat at edge at Sanbica's presence. She stuck out like a sore thumb, what with the goth getup and freaky purple eyes. And if that weren't enough, she'd used the lighter Metchi had provided for her to light up a stick of incense, which she now held with both hands over her lap. Hands which, at first, she thought had holes in the middle, though she later realized it was just a really weird tattoo.
But whatever.
Metchi kept chewing on the awful cheese and crackers they'd been given as dinner. Not the best of food, but at least it was free, and it gave her time to think about how to break the ice. This girl wouldn't have stayed at her side if she didn't want something from her, right? With any luck, they were both after the same thing.
"Such a portentous night, don't you think?"
She almost choked on the dusty crackers in an attempt to answer. Sanbica's eyes were now wide open, staring at the empty distance like an Espurr. A shiver ran down Metchi's spine.
"Er… Is that a good or bad thing?"
Sanbica turned to her, the pale corners of her lips quirking into a smile. "That depends, friend."
"D-depends on what?"
Her lips parted, showing the stark white of her teeth. It was the kind of smile Mars could only wish to replicate.
"On what side you're on, of course."
And that's about as far as Metchi's romantic interest in this girl went. As long as it had been since she'd been with someone and as much as she'd ignored her instincts in the past when it came to this stuff, even she knew there were some bets you just didn't take. So instead, she decided to drop the act.
"R…right," she whispered. "Look, no offense but… you're sketchy as fuck. And I was kinda looking for an opening to flirt with you and then see what happens but that suddenly doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore, so…"
She gave her a somewhat exaggerated shrug, still holding a cheese-covered cracker in her hand. Luckily, Sanbica didn't seem offended. Instead, she giggled to herself, though with her deep voice it sounded a lot more sinister than she probably intended it to.
"Oh, don't fret over it," she said. "You're not my type, anyway."
"Ah… yeowch."
"Still, isn't it funny? How two people can come together under their own expectations, only for them to be turned on their heads by the smallest force of will." Her gaze went down to the incense stick as she spoke, its smoke curling in unseen patterns around her. "I've always believed that humans are chaos theory incarnate. A whole universe, resting within each one. You never know what will happen once two collide; only that it will be quite the sight."
Metchi raised an eyebrow at that, though she refrained herself from saying what was in her mind. Being a bitch wouldn't win her anything. And sure, this girl was weird and uncanny as all fuck, but at least she was interesting to talk to, which was more than she could say about ninety percent of the people she'd ever met.
"You sure have a poetic way of looking at it," she finally said. "Almost makes me wanna believe we're not just a bunch of sweaty animals breaking shit and causing chaos forever until the universe explodes."
Sanbica turned to her and shrugged, tilting the incense stick her way. "Can't we be both?"
"Hah. Yeah, I guess." Thin ribbons of smoke continued to curl around them. There was a short, awkward silence. Sanbica didn't seem to mind. "So, like… what's your deal?"
"My… deal?"
"Yeah, you know… You kinda look like if Grimsley and Shauntal had a kid who then killed a Mismagius and wore it as an outfit." Another few seconds of silence. God, those eyes really felt like they were drilling into her. "Not… that I don't like it. It's a great aesthetic! But you don't really look like the kinda girl who'd travel in a shitty boat like this."
Sanbica nodded to herself, considering the question. "I… guess I do look out of place here, don't I?"
"Not… that that's a bad thing," said Metchi, smiling nervously. Dear Mew, what was she doing? She'd always been terrible at talking to girls but this was taking it to a new level. "I reckon no one here belongs anywhere, so you not belonging is… a good thing? Yeah."
"Hm." Sanbica looked down, frowning for a moment. Then, unexpectedly, she let out a tiny laugh. "You are a funny woman, Metchi."
"I am? I mean… sure, I am." She returned the laugh, though much less genuinely. "I'll be here all week, taste the veal and all that. I've got lots of terrible jokes."
"Oh, no. That's not what I meant."
Metchi stammered for a moment, tilting her head in confusion.
"Huh?"
"What struck me as funny was not your nervous attempt at humor, but your comment itself," explained Sanbica. "I'm sorry, but hearing you claim that you don't belong anywhere is like hearing a Starly complain about its lack of wings."
Metchi's smile dropped. "Ex…cuse me? You don't know me."
"Not in depth, no. But some things are obvious, even to the untrained eye."
"What…?" Metchi swallowed, feeling something form in her throat. "What are you doing here, in this boat?"
Finally, after minutes of burning, the incense stick went out, small clumps of ash staining the wooden floor before them. Sanbica stared at the last curl of smoke as it rose into the air. Her expression was unreadable.
"I wasn't sure, when I first arrived," she said. "But now I can say with some degree of confidence that I am here for you, Metchi."
Involuntarily, her hand moved to the outer part of her thigh where her knife was hidden, but she stopped just before her fingers touched it. What was she doing? That hadn't been a threat, had it? This girl was just uncanny by nature. And besides, what was she going to do? Threaten someone with a knife, inside a room full of people who probably also had a hidden one? And in the middle of a boat, no less. Yeah, that'd go well.
Clearing her throat, she pretended to scratch her leg instead, and forced herself to smile.
"I thought I wasn't your type?"
"Not quite. I'm into richer women… no offense."
Metchi cackled. "None taken. I'm right there with you." She swallowed nervously, then asked. "Seriously though, what are you doing here? You didn't come talk to me just because, did you?"
"In a way, I guess." Sanbica leaned back on the wall, pressing a thumb against her lower lip as she looked up. Her gaze was distant. "The path that led me to you is as aimless as it is predetermined. Neither, that is."
"Uh-huh. Well, that answers about… zero of my questions so far."
Still gazing at nothing, Sanbica's lips curled up slightly, around her thumb.
"Sorry. But if what you want is a straight answer, then a medium is not the right person to speak to."
Metchi let out a breath of surprise, feeling her previous anxiety suddenly evaporate.
"Ah… you're one of those," she said, almost laughing from relief. "Fucking 'ell, start with that next time. You actually had me spooked there for a sec."
"Are you saying that me being a medium means I can't spook you anymore? That'd be no fun."
"I mean, at least now I know what your deal is."
Metchi hadn't ever met an actual medium, or hex maniacs as they were called back in Hoenn, but she'd met a few aspiring ones back in her day. No matter the region, they always seemed to hang out in the same places. She figured there would never be a shortage of young idiots trying to forcefully gain some control over their lives by messing with dark forces that probably should have been left alone. Those who succeeded would probably join their kin at Mt. Pyre. The rest…
Well, there ought to be a reason why she'd never heard from some of them again.
Still, if Sanbica's look and that strange presence she exuded was anything to go by, she was the real deal. Such a fact should have made her even more nervous. Instead, she suddenly felt more comfortable around the girl.
She was no stranger to magic.
"So what are you doing here?" she asked. "Let me guess; Sinnoh wasn't as lucrative as you expected?"
Sanbica lowered her mouth, glancing at her without tilting her head. "Speaking from experience?"
"Hah… Yeah, you could say that."
"I guess I've been a bit luckier than you," she said. "You know, for all their distrust and stoicism, I found that Sinnohans are very inclined to believe in the supernatural. Especially the trainers. Making ends meet has been a lot easier than I thought."
Metchi raised an eyebrow at her. "Why are you leaving then? Not to say money is everything but…"
"Oh, I'm not."
"I… huh?"
"I am not leaving.," she said, as sure as though she were telling Metchi the sky was blue. "Something within tells me I still have a role to play in those lands."
"But… you're in a boat that's headed for Hoenn," argued Metchi. "Did you take the wrong one? Maybe those incense fumes are starting to get to you a little."
"Heh. That's funny." Sanbica turned to her, seemingly struggling not to laugh. "Yes, Metchi, I'm well aware of where I am. What I'm saying is that I came to this boat for what I assume was the purpose of meeting you, but nothing more. As soon as we're done here, I'll take my leave." Her stare lingered for a second longer than normal, the violet of her eyes digging right through her. "And something tells me it will be the same for you."
Metchi opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. This girl was one hell of a rollercoaster. She wanted to say something to prove her wrong, tell her that she knew exactly where she was going and there was no chance of changing that, but something prevented the words from coming out of her.
"…So what? You can see the future?"
Sanbica laughed. "Oh no, nothing like that. Despite having been born under the bright star of Master Jirachi, they do not share all of their gifts with my kind." She tapped her nose for a moment, deep in thought. "It's more of an… advanced form of instinct, you could say."
"Instinct?"
"Yes. Flashes of insight or inspiration will come to me occasionally. I will be compelled to be in a certain place at a certain time, knowing that my actions there will be of great importance, but never knowing what those actions will be." She spoke with a dreamy sigh in her voice, as though she found the prospect beautiful. "You could think of it as being pulled toward events of importance by the threads of fate. Whether I make things better or worse, that's on me. My powers simply point me in the right direction."
Metchi nodded slowly, trying to follow her explanation. It sounded absurd. Then again, so did having the power to erase a person's will or emotions or memories, and yet here she was. Although…
"That doesn't sound… very appealing," she said. "Isn't it like having your life already decided for you? What if you're just being strung along by Jirachi and you don't even realize it?"
Sanbica flashed her the kind of smile one used with someone they found cutely naïve.
"Oh no, I'm afraid Master Jirachi is still asleep, and will continue to be so for the next three-hundred years. They hold no power over me. But I am more than free to harness theirs."
"Still…" She struggled to find the words, parting and closing her lips a few times. "I get wanting to make things better by like… intervening and stuff, but not having a choice–"
"But I do have a choice."
Sanbica's lips tightened into a line, something that could have been considered a smile if one weren't paying much attention.
"You know… maybe I chose my words badly before."
"Huh?"
She nodded to herself. "Flash of inspiration might not be the best way to describe it. It's more of… a dark pocket in my vision, an absence more than a presence," she explained with a wave of the hand, her many bracelets making a tinkling noise. "The future is never certain, not even to Master Jirachi. When people talk about seeing the future, they imagine it like someone watching a movie, skipping ahead to know what happens before it does."
Metchi raised an eyebrow, straightening her back as she leaned a bit closer. "I'm guessing you're about to tell me how it actually works."
"The art of sensing the future… it's more statistics than it is mystical powers, to be honest." Sanbica leaned closer and whispered that last part, as though she were fearful of others hearing her. "The more… let's say ordinary a person is, the more they go through life traversing the same paths and clinging to the same habits, the easier it is for my powers to work on them."
"Right. Then the more unpredictable they are…"
"Exactly," smiled Sanbica. "They are the dark pockets in my vision I mentioned before. And just as a Venomoth is attracted to a flame, so do people like me flock toward that uncertain darkness. It's… addicting. And do you want to know something?" She leaned even closer, face inches from hers. There was hunger in her eyes. "You're the greatest absence I have ever encountered, Metchi."
They stared at each other for the length of a few breaths, until finally Metchi couldn't contain herself.
"That's… what she said?"
Something like a sigh left Sanbica's lips, almost deflating her expression, showing the lines on her face, under her eyes.
"Trust me, I can hardly believe it either," she said, leaning back, letting herself rest against the wall once more. She looked tired. "But it is what it is."
"Yeah. I've been told," she said. "So that's why you came? You sensed my unpredictability and wanted to check me out?"
"In simple terms, yes." Sanbica hiked one of her legs up, resting her arm on the knee. "But it's more than that. Before, the uncertainty emanating from you was so powerful that I couldn't even pinpoint where it originated from. Its reach was massive. Like a blanket of storm clouds hovering over the entirety of Sinnoh."
"Man, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."
"Not even the Champion herself cast a wider shadow than you did, and trust me, that woman is as unpredictable as it gets," she said, tone amused. "It was… comforting. Knowing there was someone out there even I couldn't influence. But then…"
Metchi's smirk dropped. Suddenly, she felt very cold.
"Let me guess," she said. "It was the day of the attack on Celestic. After that, I got a lot more predictable, didn't I?"
Sanbica didn't confirm it outright, though the look on her face was as much evidence as Metchi needed.
"…Yeah. Figured."
She slumped back into her corner of the wall, voice so bitter it could've passed for a Salac berry. Not much point in hiding that. Out of all the things she'd left behind when she joined Team Galactic, shame had been the first. However, Sanbica didn't seem to pity her, nor did she look disappointed. Her expression was as eerily blank as usual, the air around her tense and cold.
"I don't mean to butt in on your business. You've probably guessed this already but I get enough sob stories and whining from my clients as it is. But if I had to guess…" She glanced at her. "Whatever happened that day is related to why you're hurrying back to Hoenn, and why your eyes are that color."
Metchi replied with a tight, tired smile. "Got it in one. Ever thought of leaving this business and becoming a detective?"
Sanbica perked up, considering the idea for a moment.
"I've solved a few paranormal murder cases, if that counts," she said. "But I don't think the aesthetic would suit me. And I don't think the Institute would pay for the duster coats, fedoras and expensive cigars."
"Institute?" frowned Metchi.
"Never mind that. Slip of the tongue."
Metchi let out a chuckle. "Right. Anyway, that attire might make you about five percent less conspicuous than you are now."
"Even worse, then."
Another silence, longer and tenser than the previous one, followed. Sanbica stared ahead. Metchi grabbed another cheese-coated cracker and shoved it into her mouth.
"I guess I should apologize," Sanbica finally said. Her voice was devoid of its usual weight and pomp, stripped into what must have been her real tone. "To be honest, I came here thinking I would be happy with just getting to know the person responsible for that huge blackout in my vision. But you are… not what I expected."
"And that is also what she said," muttered Metchi. "Multiple shes, actually. For better or worse, I seem to have a knack for surprising the girls I meet."
A pretty weak deflection. But it wasn't like she cared to think of something better. It wouldn't stop this conversation anyway.
"Metchi…" Sanbica squinted, as though wanting to see right through her. With those eyes of hers, it wouldn't have surprised her. "You are Azelf's chosen human, are you not?"
She choked on the crackers. Which sucked incredibly, seeing as they were old and dusty and perfect for clogging up her throat. A few heads turned her way. Though thankfully a single angry glare from her made them turn right back around.
"F-fucking… what?" she managed to drag out of her throat, eyes squinted in pain. "How'd you…?"
"It's pretty obvious if you stop to think about it," said Sanbica. " Those eyes of yours are a dead giveaway."
Throat still sore, she forcefully swallowed and unconsciously took a hand to the bags under her right eye, squinting at the touch.
Should've bought those bitching' shades I saw last week.
"Well… sorry," she said. "But Azelf's not with me anymore." Saying those words felt like chewing through sand. "So if what you wanted was to meet one of the legendary heroes then you're out of luck."
Not that I was much of the sort when Azelf was with me, she thought bitterly.
"Is that so?" Sanbica tilted her head a bit, squinting. "But your eyes…"
"Yeah, thanks for pointing out. I hadn't noticed they haven't gone back to normal yet." A weak, tired retort. Barely worth the effort to get it out, but she was too sick of the subject to care. "Dunno why, but it doesn't matter, does it? Azelf's gone and it took with it… whatever uncertainty power you said you felt from me. So even if I wanted to humor your curiosity, I can't."
Sanbica didn't react in the slightest to the heated tone in her voice, nor the signs of danger in the way her cheeks and ears had started reddening. She simply stared, taking all of her in. Her eyes dug into her in a way few things could.
"I never said that power came from Azelf."
Metchi's words got caught up in her throat. She tried to swallow them down, but in the end the question got out anyway.
"Where from, then?"
No answer came at first. For a few, long seconds of silence, Metchi thought maybe Sanbica hadn't heard her, too busy staring. The girl's gaze was distant, but not lost. It was as though she were struggling to unearth something from her by the power of her eyes alone.
"Metchi, I want you to tell me something."
"W-what?"
"From the moment you were born, has there ever been a moment where you chose to fight instead of running away?"
Her words were like a bucket of icy water being dumped on her head. Metchi's mouth opened but no reply came, the sudden heat rising from her stomach choking her up worse than the crackers had a minute ago. Her hand twitched. It was a struggle, trying to keep it from rushing to the hidden knife in her thigh.
"I've been fighting all my life." Her voice was a hot, jagged whisper. "You don't fucking know me."
"Like I said before, I don't. But there's some things that even the untrained eye…"
"Fine! Tell me then; does your future sight tell you if I'm gonna punch you in the face right now, or is that another one of my uncertainties?"
Sanbica looked like she was seriously considering the question. "I wouldn't discount the possibility."
"You're so full of shit," Metchi spat out, tone bitter. "You know, I was willing to humor you before, but who the hell do you think you are to come out with something like that?"
"…Hm. Funny," whispered Sanbica. "You didn't seem like the type to be easily riled up by words. I'm guessing I pressed a very sensitive nerve."
Metchi barely noticed herself standing up, crumbs and plastic wrappers falling at her feet. Now people were definitely looking at her.
"Fucking blow me," she said. "Why would I want to throw myself to a fight I know I can't even win? And for what; the people of this region?" She let out a forced, bitter laugh. "Yeah right, 'cause Sinnoh cares a lot about people like me."
Sanbica didn't reply again. That pissed Metchi off even more.
"I've done nothing but fight tooth and fucking nail for myself and everyone else!" she screamed out. Control over her own voice was slipping from her. "A-and I… it didn't work out, anyway! I fucked it up, but it wasn't my fault! I didn't have anything to work with; I was fighting them all alone and… and no one else cared except me. And I…"
It was too late by the time she noticed her voice breaking, or the wetness forming in her eyes. In her moment of weakness, something she'd been trying to hold back was now flooding outward. Fucking pathetic. This was just what she needed to kick things off; to start crying in front of a boat full of strangers.
She swallowed, wiping the wetness with her sleeve. She was…
"I'm so fucking tired." The words came out barely as a whisper. "Everyone else had a reason to fight, but they didn't. They had a reason to care, but they ignored it. I didn't have either but I'm the only one who tried." She sniffled, feeling her throat dry. "Why does it have to be me?"
Sanbica shrugged nonchalantly. "We can't choose what we care about."
"But… I don't even know why I care." Metchi despised the way her voice sounded. She wanted nothing more than to tear her throat out and pull out the whiny and pathetic out of her vocal chords. "I've been beaten, robbed and taken advantage of time and time again ever since I set foot in Sinnoh, and the people I ended up fighting were the only ones who actually treated me like a person instead of… of a…" The word got stuck in her throat. She'd tried her best to force herself not to be bothered by these things, but certain words struck her in a way nothing else could. "I threw everything away to fight for people who don't care about me. Just 'cause I thought it was the right thing to do."
"I know," whispered Sanbica, a hint of tenderness in her voice. "Isn't it wonderful?"
She tried to think of a way to argue against that, but nothing came to her. It had been. As much as she hated to even think about it, whenever she closed her eyes and let her thoughts waver, she would go back to that one moment. Her body coated in weightless golden flames. Her eyes shining brighter than stars. A voice so heavy it could have commanded the moon out of the sky.
It had been the most wonderful moment of her life. And now… here she was.
"The fact that you're able of such a thing is why I can't predict you," she heard Sanbica said. "That power has nothing to do with Azelf. It belongs to you alone, and my heart flutters to think of what you could be capable of if you learned to harness it."
For a second, Metchi almost let herself be convinced. The aching behind her eyes was painful, a warmth that extended all throughout her body, making her feel almost weightless. It almost felt like it had back then.
But then she breathed out, and the cold closed in around her.
"…You shouldn't have come here," she said, shoulders dropping. "I can't do this again."
Instead of protesting or trying further to convince her otherwise, Sanbica gave her a court nod, then looked away.
"I understand. Sorry to have bothered you."
Metchi startled. She had expected more but… why? The conversation was done; no amount of buttering her up would convince her to turn around on this.
"…Right."
She turned around to leave. Or… well, to walk to the other side of the room and sit somewhere else, more precisely. She surveyed her surroundings for a second. Looked like everyone had lost interest in whatever was going on with her, thank god.
She delayed taking the first step. Then, realizing why, she shook her head, called herself an idiot inside her head and began walking away.
"Oh… by the way."
It was almost pathetic how fast Metchi looked over her shoulder, eyes slightly wide. Sanbica hadn't moved nor changed her expression.
"Earlier, you said I'd lost my opportunity to meet one of the legendary heroes," she said. "But that's not exactly true. I already met one, er… a couple months ago, if I'm remembering correctly."
Metchi tried to swallow, feeling her throat dry as sandpaper. "W-what did you say?"
"Yes. Ran into him twice, actually. Once in Veilstone and then at the annual Pastoria bonfire party." She pressed her thumb against her lip again, lost in thought. "Though I doubt he was aware of the bond back then. He didn't seem to notice when his eyes flashed gold."
Of course. The bitch had saved such a revelation for this; one last bait to entice her. Metchi would have called her out on it if it weren't for the fact her tongue felt tied into a knot in her throat.
Another hero... another one like her. The possibility had always been there –Mesprit hadn't been captured by the time she'd escaped with Azelf– but not for a second had she considered it. Even she wouldn't have wished such a daunting job on anyone else.
And yet a second ago you were complaining you were the only one who tried, she chastised herself.
"Who is it?" she finally asked, trying to keep emotion from her voice.
"Hm. I think his name was Barry, or something like that. Tall kid… kinda weird blonde hair and…"
But Metchi had stopped listening. Her throat felt like it twisted closed, every horrible feeling of invisible insects running under her skin exacerbating tenfold in an instant. She unconsciously grabbed her arms. Keeping herself steady. Nails dug into skin, and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to rip it out and all the disgusting stuff that hid under it.
"No…" It was a weak plight, barely above a whisper. "Why him? H-how… how did he even…?"
And of course that dumbass Inyssa had to be with him. Knowing those two, they would probably think being a legendary hero was something cool and flashy, and would immediately throw themselves at Team Galactic, thinking themselves invincible. They…
She let out a weak gasp.
"Celestic," she said. "That's why they were there! Cyrus targeted them!"
Sanbica raised an eyebrow at that, and the people around them turned to look again, but Metchi didn't care.
The attack on Celestic… the two had survived that, she'd seen it on the news. But how many weeks had it been since then? Cyrus wasn't an idle man, there was no way he would stop after only one attempt, and having bested him once already, Barry and Inyssa would only get more confident in their abilities. It was a recipe for disaster.
"What if Cyrus caught them already?" she thought aloud, feeling a shiver at the possibility. "They could be…"
"You haven't been watching the news, have you?"
Metchi paused, realizing how hard her nails were digging into the skin of her arms. She let go, then breathed in quick.
"What?" she asked, turning to Sanbica. "I… no, I've been avoiding them. Why?"
"Figured," she whispered. "Then you probably don't know that, a week ago, those two appeared on T.V. to challenge Snowpoint's Gym leader and also to reveal to the world what Team Galactic's true plan is."
If Metchi had been holding on to anything, it would have fallen to the ground then.
"They… what?"
"Oh, yes. Something about their leader wanting to harness the power of the lake trio to enslave the Pokemon of time and space… or something." Sanbica shrugged, apparently not very amused by that information. "Made for one hell of a headline. I haven't seen news explode that fast since that Rowan guy was kidnapped."
"WHAT!?"
The scream left her before she could stop it. For the first time since they'd met Sanbica jumped at the sound and pretty much every head in the room turned toward them, a general air of irritation filling the room.
"Ah… Right. Haven't been following the news," whispered Sanbica. "These past few weeks have been pretty wild."
Every muscle in Metchi's body felt hot and uncomfortable, the warmth behind her eyes itching so much it was hard not to squint. Her breathing was quick and jagged. In all honestly, she felt like throwing up, but somehow she managed to hold back the urge. Taking hold of the dozens of screams and panicked buzzes running through her mind, she pushed them as far back as she could and walked toward Sanbica, kneeling before her.
"Explain," she commanded, her voice heavy and brittle at the same time. "Now."
Saturn had heard of the phrase 'stumbling into the Pyroar's den', but he would've vastly preferred that over what he was doing at the moment.
"Oh. What do you want?"
Jupiter stood between him and the sill leading to her room, glaring at him as though he were a piece of wet slime stuck to the sole of her shoes. Her breath reeked of alcohol. Looking under her arm, Saturn noticed the disgusting disarray of objects and food littered about like a hurricane had just passed through.
He swallowed before speaking. "You shouldn't be drinking. We leave in less than an hour," he said. "And… I know I told you to leave behind what you didn't need but dear Mew…"
Jupiter closed her eyes and made a sound like a Meowth rolling a hiss down its throat. Judging by the way she held her head, the hangover had just set in.
"Got it, you came just to waste my fucking time. Glad we established that quickly."
She moved to close the door but Saturn took a sudden step forward, stopping the frame with one hand.
"I'm sorry," he hurried to say. "I'm not… actually here for that. I was just wondering if we could talk."
Despite looking as though nothing in the world could have enticed her less, Jupiter rolled her eyes and made a sound with her throat which one could have interpreted as a Sure.
Saturn swallowed again, taking a step back. "I was… actually hoping you'd invite me in."
She opened her mouth to protest, but the energy to do so seemed to vanish a moment later. "Ugh. Do whatever you want."
He regretted his decision as soon as he took a step into the room, the pungent mix of alcohol, fried food and cheap perfume stinging his nose like needles. But he couldn't just come out and point it out. He supposed he'd have to breathe through his mouth until he left.
Jupiter was glaring at him again. He also supposed he should get to the point; there was nothing his coworker hated more than repeating herself.
"Er… Well, I was wondering…" He licked his lips nervously. Synn above, why hadn't he thought of what he'd say beforehand? "You heard the boss' speech, right?"
"Hm? Oh, that." She rolled her eyes. "Of course I didn't. If I wanted to have my brain cells commit mass suicide I'd rather choose alcohol, thank you."
Saturn's polite smile dropped. His lips formed a pale line on his face.
"Jupiter… why are you here?" he finally asked. "Why did you accept this job?"
The woman arched an eyebrow, the slits of her eyes narrowed either by confusion or the hangover. "Money, of course. I thought I'd already told you that."
"Y-yes but…" He shook his head, taking a small step forward. "There has to be something more, right? Someone with your talents… if money's all you wanted, Team Galactic wouldn't have been your first choice. You could've been hired by anyone, even the Association. The only reason you came here…" He swallowed in between sentences, a sudden hope in his voice. "Deep down, you sympathize with our cause, don't you?"
The look Jupiter gave him then was one of pure, almost comical befuddlement. She took a quick glance at a pile of bottles laying at the feet of her bed, possibly wondering if she was hallucinating this conversation.
"…You are making a lot of assumptions," she whispered. "The kind only total morons make when they're trying to delude themselves."
Saturn set his jaw. "I'm not… Why, then? Why did you come here?"
Her response was simple. "Because Team Galactic was my only choice."
"What?" His eyes went wide. "I don't…"
"You are actually this fucking naïve. I can't believe it." A dry, humorless cackle left her lips. "You are aware that all the commanders except you are criminals, right?"
"I… I mean, we're all…"
"No," she cut him off. "I mean from before we joined Team Galactic."
He froze for a second. "What? No, they're… I mean, yes, Mars and Asta are both technically criminals, but they were branded as such by the same government that turned them into weapons in the first place!" he protested. "A-and besides, Charon…"
"Another war criminal," said Jupiter. "A legit one this time, no excuses. Guy practically wiped off an island for fuck's sake."
"They were never able to prove that," he said. "How could he have triggered an eruption in the first p–"
That's when it hit him. Charon. Mars' Ditto, that strange Pokemon the man commanded...
"I… Dear Mew…," he whispered, eyes wide in horror. "But… Then, what did you…?"
"Treason," shrugged Jupiter. "I actually did work for the Association back in the day. But I guess I got a little too greedy and kinda… tried to sell some of our secret technology to the black market."
Saturn gasped. "You what!?"
"Yeah, see? The fact that this surprises you is why you're a shit-for-brains. Amongst a whole bunch of other reasons I'm too hung-over to list right now," she said in a fast, slurred tone. "Now get out. I'm sick of looking at you."
She kicked an empty can of beer to sloppily emphasize her point. Saturn barely noticed as it flew past him and crashed against the frame of the door with a light clank. He was too busy staring at the floor, an aghast look on his face.
"Sometimes…" His voice sounded like it was forcefully trying to pick itself up. "Sometimes you need to make sacrifices for the greater good. I'm sure the boss…"
"Oh for the love of– Wake up already!"
She spat the words at him with a tone full of poison, eyes squinted in groggy anger. Saturn felt a chill.
"You're delusional," she said, straight like a punch to the face. "Everything Cyrus says is bullshit. He doesn't give a shit about you or anyone else. He only cares about his plans."
Saturn's eyes flew open in anger. "You… have no idea what you're talking about," he spat back, ears reddening. "Just because you're a moral-less, forked-tongued Ekans of a woman doesn't mean…"
"You know what? You're right."
He paused just before taking a step toward her, mouth agape in surprise. Jupiter suddenly looked wholly disinterested in the topic, hands on her hips and a look of utter boredom on her face.
"What?"
"I just realized I don't actually care about convincing you," she shrugged. "Wanna delude yourself? Be my guest. Hell, feel free to come and drink with me once you actually grow the balls to confront the truth. I'll welcome you with open arms."
Saturn knew he should have turned on his feet and left then. Whatever answer he'd been looking for was clearly not to be found here and any further attempts at getting it would only make the situation worse. He knew that… and yet he couldn't stop himself.
"…Yeah? And what truth would that be?"
All the doubt, frustration and betrayal he'd been accumulating over the previous weeks was starting to boil, rising from his stomach throughout the rest of his body, making his shoulders tense and his hands ball into fists. A glance down from Jupiter confirmed she noticed this. But judging from her next words, she didn't seem to care.
"The truth is that you, Saturn, are a child." There was no more slurring in her voice. It was suddenly clear and sharp like crystal. "You clearly didn't get enough hugs from daddy when you were growing up, so you thought you'd fix that by joining the emotionless leader of a cult that's bent on making everyone as boring as he is." She shook her head, lips curling into a cruel smile. "It astonishes me every fucking time, you know? You always look so hopeful when you're around him. Like you know at any moment he'll turn around to smile at you and give you a hug for all the good work you've done. Well done, son. I'm so proud…"
"Shut up," he spat through his teeth.
"You couldn't be farther from the kind of person Cyrus wants the world to be filled with. That's why he always scolds you for getting so emotional," she kept explaining, arms crossed, a smug look on her face. "But… you're useful to him, so he keeps you around. And that's as far as his concern for you goes. I'd say you're kind of like an office supply to him, only office supplies never fail to do what they're supposed t–"
"SHUT UP!"
It was spur of the moment. Suddenly he was moving, a noxious heat enveloping his body like a cloud of poison. He threw his hands forward, and Jupiter gasped. Had she not been hung-over, perhaps she would have caught herself during the few steps back she took, before her foot landed on one of the discarded beer cans and she toppled back. A loud thump was heard as she fell into a pile against the frame of her bed.
Saturn let out a choked gasp, all of the rage and indignation vanishing in an instant, replaced only with panic.
"O-oh my god I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"
But, unexpectedly, Jupiter did not yell at him or insult him. Instead she grabbed the frame of the bed and carefully pulled herself up to her feet, eyes hidden by the shadow of her hair. Her knees wobbled in pain.
Then, her lips curled into the hook of a smile, and Saturn felt his heart drop to his stomach.
"You know…" she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "I was really hoping you'd do that."
"Wh–?"
She moved with the desperate, furious speed of a wild Pokemon. Saturn barely had time to be shocked as he saw her raise her arm, and a second after the world spun around him. The punch knocked him off his feet and he fell on his right shoulder, an explosion of pain stealing the breath he'd been holding to. The sting on his cheek came a moment after.
"A-ah…"
He was too shocked to scream or move in any way other than shaking. So stunned he was that he almost didn't hear Jupiter taking steps toward him.
"Tell you what, Saturn," she said from above, the polite surface of her tone hiding barely contained anger. "Since you so badly want to know why I'm here, I'll tell you."
He caught a flurry of movement, and then the sound of an impact. The kick made him cough out whatever little air remained in his lungs, an even more terrible pain spreading outwards from his stomach like broken glass. His vision clouded with tears.
"It's simple, really. I just fucking hate people."
Another explosion of pain, this time just under the knee of his left leg. His face scrunched up hard, choked gasps and little whimpers of pain leaving his lips.
"You really think you're the first to ask me what I want? As much as I hate it, the world's full of dumbasses like you who really can't take a hint or mind their own goddamn business." Spit flew out of her mouth as her pitch got higher. "You fuckers just can't leave me alone, can you? I've felt your eyes on me… All. My. Fucking. Life!"
She emphasized each word with a kick, the dull impact reverberating throughout Saturn's body like an electric shock, paralyzing him. He couldn't speak or protest, teeth clenched tight.
"First it was the people at orphanage, then the teachers, then the professors at college, then my own fucking coworkers," she seethed the last few words, fury clear in her tone. "All because I never met a single person I liked more than food, alcohol or sex. Sure, that's not exactly normal, but you know what? At least I'm not as arrogant as all of you."
Her foot came down on his right hand, and there was a crack. The pain was such that his consciousness thinned for a moment, what little he could see of the room blurring around him. Every inch of him flared in agony. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a choked sob came out at first.
"P-plea–"
A swift kick to the elbow made him choke on his next breath, shutting him up.
"You're all so fucking full of yourselves that you can't fathom why I'd hate you, so you collectively decide there's something wrong with me. Oh, she's just confused," she said, exaggerating her tone to a mocking degree. "After all we're oh so bloody pure and nice; clearly she needs someone like us to show her the way. She needs someone like us to FIX her!"
"I… I'm s-sorry, please…" Saturn whispered, voice brittle and broken. Shaking uncontrollably, he simply closed his eyes and prayed for this to be over. "Please…"
One more kick to the stomach made him go numb for a second, eyes flying wide open, limbs curling toward his chest in a feeble attempt to protect himself. He was shaking. Tears fell to the floor under his cheek, mixing with the dust and grime.
"But you know what? It's fine now. Wanna know why?" Despite her claim, fury still burned under the surface of her voice. "Because I'm made of stronger stuff than what people like you can break. Because I'm no longer a scared little girl, wondering if I really am the one in the wrong. And I'm definitely not a sobbing piece of shit curled into a ball in the floor like you, Saturn. Though I have to say, the look does suit you nicely."
Saturn heard the sound of Jupiter moving and tensed his muscles in preparation, but no other hit came. Instead, he felt her kneel at his side. Her voice sounded uncomfortably close to his ear.
"Once Cyrus' plan fails and I get all the money I'm owed, I'll finally live life the way I want. I'll drown in the pleasures only things can give me. I'm going to rot in a hedonism so twisted and self-indulgent that even the most gluttonous of Snorlax would be horrified. And you know what?." She got even closer, and he could hear the glee in her voice. "I'll die with a smile on my face, just to prove all of you wrong."
Jupiter pushed herself up with wobbly, uncoordinated movements, but a clear look of victory on her face. She stood there for a moment, looking down at a broken Saturn. Like an artist admiring their masterpiece.
"…Well. As much as I'd like to stay here and look at you toil, I need to get a move on. Oh, and, Saturn?" She leaned forward ever so slightly, arms behind her back. "Please, go to Cyrus. Cry to him about what I just did to you. I want to see the look on your face when he chooses me over you regardless. All because I'm more useful." A sharp, devious chuckle left her lips. "I reckon it'll sting a bit more than this."
And, after delivering one final kick to his arm, she jovially jumped over him and disappeared past the door and onto the hallway, the sound of her steps echoing through the floor Saturn was laying on.
Then nothing. Silence set into the room, dimming what little light filtered through the window, making it feel as though the whole world had gone to sleep. This wing of the building was cleared out now. If Saturn didn't move, he doubted anyone would find him before it was time to evacuate.
Assuming anyone would even try to, of course.
Heat flared all throughout his body like a multitude of heartbeats, endlessly pumping pain into this system. The fingers on his hand were the worst of it. That stomp had clearly broken them. And yet it wasn't agonizing enough that he couldn't have pushed himself to his feet and go chasing after Jupiter, after Cyrus.
But of course he didn't.
Minutes passed in silence. He was barely aware of how much time it'd been since Jupiter had left.
She's right, a faint part of him said. They were all lies. From the beginning, I was…
What was even the point of thinking about it? Saturn shut eyes tight, a sob stuck in his throat, and curled himself into a ball. Soon, what Cyrus had predicted would come to pass, and the building would come down with him still in it. But it was fine. This was what he deserved. His own stupidity and naiveté had landed him in this situation, and now he would pay for it.
His only regret was that he'd never gotten the chance to apologize to L–
Red suddenly filled the room, a light so bright it forced him to raise a hand in front of his eyes.
Then, the voice of one of his grunts came out of the intercom, ringing throughout the base.
"An intruder has been detected entering our air-space!" the voice said with a hint of panic. "A single trainer, flying atop a Skarmory. The few grunts that haven't evacuted yet, go to your battle stations!"
Somehow, miraculously, Saturn found the strength to push himself to his feet, eyes wide with shock and what little hope remained within him.
The Pastoria dock looked somehow, impossibly, even shittier than the last time Reiko had visited it. Shrubs and vines were already eating the place up. Like veins growing outwards from the heart of the marsh, wet, disgusting patches of vegetation dotted the ground all over, even going as far as growing on some of the cargo boxes littered about, the ones that clearly hadn't been used in years. A few steps beyond, the river met the land. There was only space for four ships to lay anchor, and only one of them was in use.
Their target was here.
Reiko swallowed, fingers closing strongly over the grass she was kneeling over. She could only hope this would go better than last time.
"We move in one minute. On my mark."
Cynthia's voice came out of the small earbud, making Reiko flinch.
"Once Noria triggers the switch, you must take care not to attract too much or too little attention," she explained. "You will look like them, and I took precaution in choosing grunts that somewhat look like you, but your voices will remain your own. I advise not speaking to other grunts unless strictly necessary."
Neither her nor Percy said anything. They'd gone over the plan a thousand times and as much as it annoyed Reiko to have it repeated to her again, the invisible knot in her throat prevented her from speaking. Every muscle in her body felt tense like a bow being drawn. The cold air and the silence it brought about didn't help either. Far below, even the Galactic grunts seemed unusually quiet.
The night felt heavy and oppressive. As though the moon could come crashing down on them at any moment. And yet–
"Now."
Reiko's eyes went wide. Shit, the ship had already started moving, she'd been too distracted to–
Light enveloped her, and after the air vibrated for a second she was in a different place, standing up, holding on to something long and wooden. A look down confirmed that it was a broom.
It also told her that Cynthia's ploy had worked. She was inside the ship, and she looked just like one of the grunts they'd seen come out of it before. She took a moment to breathe and regain her composure. She'd never get used to teleportation.
She looked around, noticing some of the boxes and supply crates that had been loaded onto the ship a few minutes before. The place was small and packed pretty tight. She barely had room to move, much less pretend to be swiping the floor. Past a few of the crate piles, she noticed another grunt lazily typing into a glowing panel next to the stairs leading up the ship. He was probably checking that all the supplies were in place.
"I'm in position," Cynthia's voice rang in her ear once more. "Outside the navigator quarters, I seem to be the only one guarding it. What about you two?"
Reiko pretended to swipe to the right, hiding behind a large pile of crates before whispering.
"Belly of the ship. Where all the supplies are."
"I'm on the deck, standing guard," Percy said next, tone hushed.
"Perfect," said Cynthia. "Hold on to your positions while I try to sneak Hao in."
Reiko had to admit, the plan the Champion had come up with wasn't half bad, even if she'd never say it out loud.
First, her Espeon Noria would psychically lock on to one of the grunts exiting the ship, linking them with one of them. Then, when it was time for the ship to leave, she would teleport those grunts out and teleport them in, using her powers of illusion to make them look just like said grunts. The original ones would then be ambushed by Palmer and Argenta, who would then follow the ship from afar, ready to give assistance should any kind of problem come up.
Hao was just a bonus. If they could get him inside the ship's terminal he might be able to calculate their route and find where Galactic HQ was before the ship could reach it, which would buy them a lot of time. That's why, as much as it had pained Percy, he'd given the Rotom to Cynthia just before the mission had started.
And meanwhile, Reiko was stuck swiping the fucking floor.
Can't win'em all I guess.
At least the feel of the wooden object in her hand reminded her of the weight of her sword, and how soon she would truly wield it for the first, and hopefully, last time. Charon's face flashed before her eyes and she barely caught herself seething. Her hands closed with too much strength over the broom, cracks spreading from her fingers outwards.
Calm down, she reminded herself. Save it for later.
And so she kept swiping, only occasionally glancing back at the other grunt in the room. Bastard sure looked unenthusiastic about that panel.
"It's done."
Reiko was lost in her thoughts enough for Cynthia's voice to make her jump. The broom slipped from her fingers and in a desperate attempt to grab it back she accidentally threw it forward. The wooden tip clanged against one of the metal crates, falling to the ground with a thump a second after.
"Shit," she whispered.
"With Noria's help I managed to de-activate the security camera above us," said Cynthia, unaware of what was happening on her side. "Now the footage will loop, allowing Hao to enter the device. He's making his way to the main panel as we speak."
Reiko barely heard that, too busy looking over the crate toward the other grunt.
"Er… sorry 'bout that. I slipped."
But the man didn't answer. As a matter of fact, he didn't even look like he'd heard her. One hand lazily raised toward the panel, he continued to press keys in what seemed to be a random order, the rest of his body slouched as though he were falling asleep on his feet.
"…Hello?"
Reiko could tell when someone was ignoring her –lots of practice growing up as a problem child– but this wasn't it. Normally, there would be a reaction. A small one; a tilt of the head or a pause in what the person was doing as they processed the fact that someone was talking to them.
The grunt currently with his back to her showed none of that. Reiko opened her mouth to get his attention again, but the stale air of the room lay an uncomfortable weight on her tongue.
"I'm in!" Hao's voice was heard over the earbud. "Ha! Chumps thought they could keep me out with that kind of cybersecurity? I could've done that with my nonexistent hands tied behind my back."
Percy spoke next. "Yes, yes, let's keep the ego in check for now. What's it look like in there?
"Messy. But I just need to access the GPS and get the coordinates out. Shouldn't take long."
"Good," said Cynthia. "Keep at it, we'll cover you."
Reiko knew she should have kept pretending to swipe. But something about the way that grunt was standing, the way he absentmindedly pushed buttons as though his hand were being lifted by a puppet's string…
She let the broom rest against one of the crates and maneuvered her way to him, the lonesome light hanging from the ceiling casting tall shadows from behind the towers of supplies surrounding her. Heat danced under her skin. The last Pokeball on her belt shook once, imperceptibly.
"Hey, are you listening to me? I–"
As soon as her hand landed on his shoulders, she gasped. Sharp, blinding pain shot up her arm like dozens of icy needles. She jumped back instinctually, her back connecting with the hard metal of the crates behind her, stealing her breath for a moment.
"I think I…" Hao's voice was heard once more. "I think this is it! I just need to triangulate to make sure."
"Excellent!" said Cynthia. "In position, everyone! Soon–"
Reiko wasn't listening. The arm she'd used to touch the grunt was numb and pulsing as though she'd soaked it in freezing water. However, that wasn't it. Pain she could deal with. She'd been trained to, as a matter of fact.
But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of that man turning around to look at her. His face was completely vacant. The white of his eyes had been tinted a pure black and veins of darkness extended from the edges outwards.
Reiko tried to move, to summon her weapon, but her body wouldn't obey. All that came out of her was a whisper.
"C-Cynthia…"
"Just a little more!" said the woman, barely paying attention to her. "Soon we'll–"
"CYNTHIA!"
Her scream seemed to have sucked up all the air in the ship. A wide, oppressive silence fell over them for what felt like minutes, but had probably been less than a second.
"Reiko, are you–!?" Percy's sentence got caught in his throat. A gasp followed. "W-what the…?"
"Percy? Reiko? What's going on? I'll–" She stopped herself too, but it was different from Percy. Reiko could almost imagine the woman stopping for a moment, then looking up in confusion. "Wha–?"
Something landed atop the ship. Reiko heard the impact first, then felt her body go weightless before she slammed against the ground hard enough to make her vision go blurry. She could hear the violent rushing of the water around her. Screams and gasps rang from her earbud but she couldn't identify whom they belonged to.
"A-agh… Shit!"
Heat flooded her body, this time without her willing to. Which –knowing how picky the source of said heat was– could only mean that this was serious.
Fueled by that and panic in equal measures, she jumped to her feet and headed for the stairs, jumping up three or four each time. She made it to the base floor just in time for a figure to appear at the end of the hallway at her right. Reiko turned on the ball of her feet, opening her hand to call forth her w–
"Reiko!"
Her muscles relaxed. Cynthia's disguise had vanished, and she looked about as panicked and confused as she was.
"What the fuck happened?" Reiko managed to get out.
"I don't know, I–!"
The ceiling was ripped off the rest of the ship as though it were made of paper, claws tearing into metal with a horribly sharp, creaking sound. Everything shook violently
Cynthia and Reiko moved in unison, producing a Pokeball on each of their hands, eyes squinting at the sudden moonlight falling over them. They raised them toward the sky, fingers hovering over the buttons.
Then the silhouette came into view, and both women froze.
The gigantic Pokemon looked down upon them, the mere sight of its burning ruby eyes forcing Reiko's grip to loosen, a tiny gasp of terror leaving her mouth. Its wingspan easily covered the ship from tip to tip. Reiko had never seen a Charizard so massive in her life.
The beast lifted the piece of metal it had just ripped off the ship, then threw it far into the ocean with extreme ease, the sound of the impact finally waking Reiko from her shock. Nerves on fire, she was about to start running before she noticed something peculiar.
A person stood on the beast's shoulder.
"N-no," whispered Cynthia, disbelief clear in her voice. "How are you…?"
The woman standing atop the Charizard leaned forward slightly, allowing Reiko to make out her long, ashen hair and faded green eyes. Her pale lips were curled into a very satisfied smile.
"Hey there, fellas."
Then the beast opened its maw, and hell poured out. All Reiko could see was stark white as the torrent of flames fell upon them.
Metchi hid her face in her palms as soon as Sanbica finished speaking, a long, tired sigh leaving her lips. This was shit. Absolute shit, of the kind she'd neither asked for nor wanted anywhere near her, but still, here it was.
And the worst part was, Sanbica was right.
She'd been running away all this time.
"They took Rowan… because of me," she whispered to no one, the ship full of people around her suddenly feeling empty and cold. "And those two dipshits… If I hadn't told them what I knew about Team Galactic…"
It wasn't their fault. Metchi had known they were the kind of kids who would throw themselves face-first into trouble at the first opportunity they got, and she'd given them the means to do it. If you dangled a piece of meat in front of a Poochyena, it would be hypocritical to get mad at it for trying to take a bite. This was all on her.
And yet the more she thought about it, the more she understood why she'd done it. Suddenly, a lot of the decisions she'd taken along the way made a lot more sense, though that didn't make her feel particularly better.
"I'm such a dumbass," she said, a tired smile forming on her lips. "I complain about being the only one who does anything, yet whenever the load on my shoulders gets too heavy I throw some of it to someone else in hopes they can help me carry it. And every single time, I fuck them over."
A bitter laugh left her lips. Sanbica continued to stare at her, not saying a word. Waiting.
Metchi's mind wandered back to that wonderful memory. The moment when she thought she had finally unlocked her full potential, the moment when Azelf's power had become truly hers… or so she'd thought.
I was running away then too. Realization dawned on her, cold and uncomfortable. I could escaped, but I thought that by giving it all out and dying then I'd be… god, I don't fucking know. Brave? True to myself? Yeah, right…
She closed her eyes again, and realized the piece she'd been missing; Living was, and would always be, harder. And yet how else would anyone get anything done?
Metchi had been running her whole life, doing anything –no matter how low or humiliating– in order to survive. Always lying, cheating, taking from others. The worst kind of human being. And when she'd finally gotten the opportunity to be something more, even then, she hadn't made much of an effort to change.
But no more.
No more fucking running.
Metchi rose to her feet, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. Her expression was calm, but determined, the gold of her eyes gleaming ever so slightly.
"I'm going back," she said, more to herself than Sanbica.
"Yes, I figured you would."
"Can't let everyone else have all the fun." And with that, she looked down at the girl and shone her a quick smile. One of her classics. "Besides, if I don't bring down Team Galactic then the job falls to that bitch of a Champion and her Association, and I'll be damned before I let that happen."
Sanbica nodded to herself, and though her expression was usually as inscrutable as a brick wall, Metchi thought she noticed a hint of relief in her eyes.
"I would wish you luck in your endeavor but… I get the chance you're the kind of woman who makes her own luck," she said, returning the smile. "I suppose this is goodbye, then."
"Yeah. Don't take it personally… Or, well, do, because I absolutely mean it personally, but I hope we never see each other again."
And with that she was off. A familiar, welcoming heat enveloped her limbs as she ran up the stairs toward the deck of the ship, leaving more than a few confused people behind her.
"W-wait! What do you…"
One of the guards loitering about the deck –along with the various first-class passengers staring at her with a mix of surprise and fear– turned toward her. He took a few steps toward her, a stern look on his face.
"All low-cost passengers were told to stay in their floor until the trip was done," he warned her. "You cannot–"
Light exploded in between them. The guard jumped back, eyes wide, and reached for the baton in his belt but by then Metchi had already jumped atop Lyserg's back. The Tropius extended her massive wingspan, sending powerful gusts all around her. The nurses at Canalave's Pokemon Center had done an amazing work, Metchi thought. Her partner's leaves had never looked so green and vibrant.
Then, a thin, square piece of plastic was thrown down at the guard's face, sticking to his forehead and making him flinch.
"Sorry man, but I'm afraid I'll have to reimburse the ticket," she told the terrified guard. "You can keep the change, though. Buy yourself something nice."
There was an explosion of wind, and they suddenly weren't there anymore. The weak moonlight filtering through the clouds above highlighted their outlines as they trailed through the sky at incredible speed, back toward Sinnoh.
