Disclaimer: I own Alana, and my odd ideas about a "Rift." As far as I know I own Silver Falls. The song "Hikari no Naka e" is a real Japanese song composed by Yoko Kanno and sung by Maaya Sakamoto. Everything else is TV Tokyo's.

Rating: PG, for death, bereavement, and mild swearing.

Language Notes: I use everyone's Japanese names and one Japanese phrase, because it fit the story (and sometimes I get tired of writing Meowth's English dialect). For those who don't know:

Musashi - Jessie
Kojiro - James
Nyasu - Meowth
Sounansu - Wobbuffet
"Yana kanjii" - Literally "bad feeling;" it's what the trio shouts when they get "blasted off again."

Credits: Thanks to Sakamoto Maaya's "Hikari no Naka e," a weird dream about an elevator to the afterlife, and far too many ghost episodes of Secrets on the Travel Channel. This fic could never have existed without all three of these.

The Rift

Track One: On That Beautiful Day

Musashi sat back on her sleeping bag, looking out through the window of the small cabin she and her partners currently shared. The sun was peeking through the bare boughs of the winter trees, making the spindly branches seem almost majestic. Small tufts of clouds, cotton balls on the breeze, flitted across the sky, while several Onisuzume drifted lazily through the air, on the lookout for an easy meal.

The Rocket watched the serene beauty through half-closed lids - and decided she wanted to take a blow-torch to the entire thing. The sun was right in her eyes, the tree branches were scratching the top of the cabin, and Onisuzume had never been very friendly towards her. "It really would be a beautiful day," she muttered to herself, "if I wasn't in such a rotten mood."

She and Kojiro had gotten into a fight that morning. It wasn't anything unusual, really, but it had left a more sour taste in her mouth than usual.

"We need to get moving so we can track down that twerp and his friends," Musashi had remarked, opening her bag to pack her things.

"Why?" Kojiro had wondered drearily, arms folded across the window ledge as he stared out at the clear spring sky. "We'll only get ourselves beaten up again." He'd sighed. "Sometimes I think we were destined for failure."

"Stop that," Musashi snapped. She didn't like thinking about their list of unsuccessful missions, and when Kojiro said that sort of thing they came to mind all too clearly. "That's half our problem: as long as we think pessimistically we'll never do anything right. You have to say to yourself, 'Today is the day we catch Pikachu and prove ourselves to the boss.'"

Most of the time their spats would end there, but today Kojiro turned to stare at her, something between confusion and frustration etched across his face. "How long have we been thinking that way, Musashi? All we've got to show for it are a lot of old injuries and some nice new ones to match them."

"What did I just say?" Musashi whirled on her friend, bracing herself for a fight. "Persistence pays, and if we keep at it we're bound to succeed eventually."

Kojiro snorted. "Your delusions of grandeur are nice, but they don't keep clothes on our back or food in our stomachs."

"You're one to talk! Who's the one who's always coming up with plans while her partners are busy daydreaming about things we could be having?"

"I do just as much work as you do - if not more - and you know it!"

"All you ever do is lose our money on rip-off 'bargains' and collect your stupid bottle caps!"

"Me?! You're the one who's constantly wasting our paychecks on shopping sprees and machines that don't even work! And besides, I only collect caps as a hobby. Don't I deserve to have a little fun when I'm not working this stupid job?"

"This job is not stupid!" Musashi argued, face flushing at his jab against her beloved gang. "My mom devoted herself to Team Rocket! Are you calling her stupid?"

"Maybe I am. I'm sick of this gang!"

"Yeah? Well I'm sick of you!"

Kojiro's face softened for a moment into a look of genuine hurt, but then the pain passed and his eyes narrowed defiantly. "Fine. Have fun getting blasted off without me, then."

And with that he had turned on his heel and slammed the door to the bedroom, leaving Musashi alone.

Now, thinking back to their fight, she turned her eyes upward to the ceiling and sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I mean, if he really does quit, all because I... Oh, but who cares if he does? He had no right to insult my mom! Hmph. I'm glad I hurt his feelings. He deserved it." Even as she said it she knew she didn't mean it, but it made her nagging conscience feel better.

Closing her eyes to the sunlight drifting through the window and rolling over onto her side, Musashi soon dozed fitfully, trying to ignore the guilt that gnawed away at her stomach.

xxx

She awoke a couple hours later, groggily pushing herself into a sitting position and shading her eyes from the sunlight pouring into her window. Musashi stood and stretched, feeling much better after her nap.

"Kojiro?" she called, opening the door to the bedroom. "You ready to go? I'm not mad anymore."

Nyasu and Sounansu were the only two to greet her, the two lazing about in the main room. Nyasu glanced up from a newspaper splayed out across the coffee table. Seeing him like that, sometimes Musashi thought he was more human than she was. "Kojiro isn't here. He headed into town about ten minutes ago."

"What for? Our supplies are as stocked as we can get them on our current budget."

The cat shrugged. "When I asked him, he said, 'To waste our money on some rip-off bargains.' What d'you think he meant by that?"

Musashi sighed. "Only ten minutes ago?" He nodded and she rubbed at her temples. "Guess he's still mad at me, then. We had a fight earlier. Did he take the jeep?"

"Nyah, the motorbike."

Musashi went to the back room to throw on something other than her Team Rocket uniform – no reason to draw unnecessary attention, after all. "Then I'd better go find him. We need to get going, and if he really does spend the rest of our money we'll be in a lot of trouble."

"Yanya kanjii," Nyasu muttered at the thought. "Well, good luck. We'll hold down the fort."

"Sou-nansu!" Sounansu agreed with a salute.

"Sure," she agreed with a backwards wave of her hand. "See you in a few."

Musashi grabbed the keys and her wallet, hopped into the jeep, and set off down the dirt road that led from their cabin to the highway. That motorcycle we picked up is a real piece of junk, it won't be able to go nearly as fast as a car, she mused to herself. And our hideout is about twenty minutes from town... maybe I'll catch him before he even gets there! That'd make my job a lot easier.

She pulled off the dirt road a few minutes later, taking a side street up to a sweeping entrance ramp until finally she merged into the traffic of the main highway. She hadn't gone very far before blinking police lights, traffic jams, and a roadblock pulled her to an undignified halt. "Hey! What's the holdup?"

Impatient as ever, the Rocket pulled her jeep over to the side and jumped out. She weaved her way through the backed-up traffic and towards the roadblock, eyes widening as the scene came into focus. It looked like there'd been an accident with an awful lot of vehicles: a truck sat, tipped over on the side of the road, while cars, crushed to the point that they didn't even look like cars, lay scattered down the sloping hill and on the road itself. Her eyes whipped over the accident, horrified at the thought that Kojiro might have gotten caught up in it.

Ignoring the blockade and picking her way through the ambulances and police cars, Musashi found a uniformed officer barking orders to a few others at the scene. Ever the actress, she came to attention in front of him. "Sir! What happened here?"

The man turned on her, a haggard look in his eye that said he didn't have time for questions. "The hell're you? The ambulances finally get here?" He looked her up and down and shook his head. "No, never mind. I don't have time to deal with civil–"

"I'm an officer, sir," Musashi said smoothly. "Yamamoto, from the third precinct? I'm off-duty, but I saw the blockade and came to see if I could help. What's going on?"

She'd gambled on him being too frazzled to ask for identification. Her bet paid off as he turned back to the scene and sighed. "Some idiot slammed into that truck. The truck went out of control and crashed into a couple of other cars, and then..." He waved tiredly "Damned domino effect. What a mess. We just got here ourselves."

"What're we looking at, vehicle-wise?"

"Hm," he paused to tic them off on his fingers. "The truck, four, no, five cars... oh, yeah, and some poor guy on a motorcycle – whoa, you okay? Something wrong?"

"Where's Ko - I mean, the person on the motorcycle?" Musashi demanded.

The officer pointed down the hill. "He got flung pretty far off the road - down there, behind the truck. Why? Sound like someone you know?"

"No," she murmured. "I just, uh, know some first-aid, and I figured he'd be the one who'd need it the most, so…"

Still muttering excuses, she whirled and headed for the slope, hopping the barrier and picking her way down the hill. She could hear the officer calling out to her, but he had too much to do to chase after her, and a moment later his calls trailed away. If he remembered her when the paramedics arrived, she might be in trouble, but she had time for now, at least.

Musashi weaved between other vehicles, ignoring calls from police officers and the just-arriving medics. She kept her eyes on the ground and away from the cars, afraid of something she might see. Skirting a little blue sports car by a good ten feet - she could see some people inside, and they didn't look good - Musashi finally spotted a hunk of metal and twisted rubber, smaller than the rest, smoking on its side almost at the bottom of the hill. She scanned the area for her partner, wondering if he'd been thrown as far as the forest...

There! She caught a flash of hair peeking up from a nearby ditch, almost hidden by vegetation and rocks. Scrambling down the hill and ignoring the cuts and bruises inflicted on both hands and knees, Musashi slid to a stop next to her partner.

She heaved out a deep sigh, relieved to see his chest rising and falling, though his breathing came out ragged, as if something was caught in his throat. As her eyes roved over his battered body, she winced, biting back a cry of concern at the long gash ripping across his forehead, matting his hair with blood. She ripped off part of her shirt and gingerly dabbed at the cut, not wanting to hurt him worse.

"I can't believe they haven't tried to patch him up," she hissed to herself, still taking in his broken appearance. One arm lay draped across his midriff, hand pressed tightly to his stomach. Musashi could see blood seeping around the edges but didn't dare lift up his shirt to find out how bad it was. Trailing at last to his lower body, she had to fight back a gag. Were legs allowed to bend in that direction?

"H-hey? Kojiro?"

One green eye opened halfway, and a thick, confused murmur broke from his throat. "Musa?"

"Hey, how you holding up? You'll be okay, right? Hang on for a sec, I'll go get one of those medics and we'll get you to the hospital. Sound good? Okay?" She realized she was babbling like a little kid, but couldn't seem to stop. "Hell, they should already be here..."

"They're not coming."

"Eh?" she whirled back to face him, eyes wide and frantic. "Of course they'll come, Kojiro! I'll remind them you're here, and—"

"No. You don't… you don't understand." He had to pause often to catch a wet, rasping breath. "Someone… came around, to see who was alive and…. who wasn't… and since there's so many… so many people, they have to get the ones who have a chance… first, then they come back… for the others… after that."

"Yeah, okay, but, but why haven't they gotten to you?"

"He gave me something for the pain, and…"

She talked over him, forcing fury so she wouldn't have to feel something worse. "Probably 'cause you're behind the truck, they forgot about you, right? The nerve, well, I'll go find someone and—"

"…then he said he was sorry and walked away."

Musashi sat down hard beside him, feeling something cold drop into her stomach. "He what?"

"I think it's… whatever happened to my stomach," Kojiro said. "Even if they'd gotten me to a hospital… the moment it happened..."

He choked on his words for a moment, struggling to find his breath, then turned his head to the side and coughed raggedly. In a daze, Musashi reached down with her sleeve to wipe the blood from his mouth. His lower lip trembled as she did. "He just walked away, Musa…"

"Well, I won't," she snapped. "I'll fix you myself if I have to. What can we...?" She trailed off, remembering the bag that she'd brought from the cabin, still looped across her shoulders. Musashi slung it off and dug around until she produced a bottle of water. "Want some?"

He nodded and Musashi reached behind him with one hand, gently propping his head up in her lap while she held the bottle to his lips. Kojiro managed to choke down a few small swallows, then looked up to her, smiling weakly. "Thanks, Musa. I'm glad you're here. I couldn't have stood it… being alone—"

"Yeah, right, no problem," she interrupted, blinking hurriedly. "Does it… does it really hurt?"

"A little, but… it's not as bad as it was. Whatever he gave me helped."

"Are you all right?"

For a second she saw true terror in his pale face. "I'm a little scared," he admitted.

Musashi nodded. "Is there anything I can do? To – to help, or something?"

His reply was a whisper. "Do you think you could just hold my hand?"

Musashi's fingers curled around his own, giving them a quick, reassuring squeeze. He closed his eyes tightly, fighting for another breath, then opened them again, though he couldn't meet her gaze this time.

"I lied," he said after a moment, and Musashi's insides twisted at the breakdown on the edge of his words, the faint tears rimming his eyes. "I'm really scared. I want to be strong, but I can't when I'm this terrified."

"I know," she said, forcing steadiness into a voice that wanted to shatter. "I'm here though, so you don't have to be strong. I'll be the strong one, Kocchan."

He smiled a little. "You haven't called me that since we were kids." Kojiro's half-closed eyes turned upwards, watching the wisps of clouds dart in and out of the tree branches. "You know… it really is a beautiful day."

Musashi followed his gaze into the sky, nodding in silent agreement. Thinking back to their fight from earlier, she felt a sudden urge to blurt out an apology, to make things even a fraction better in these last, awful moments. There were so many things she still needed to tell him, before...

She tried to get the words out, but every attempt got caught in her throat. She couldn't speak without crying. And if she started crying, Kojiro was going to lose it. She had to be the tough one, which meant no tears – and without tears there could be no words, no apologies or final farewells, not even an "It'll be all right." So there was nothing.

Musashi came back to reality with a jerk as she felt his grasped fingers weaken. "Kojiro?" she called, glancing down into her friend's clouded, half-open eyes and squeezing at his limp hand. "Koji—?"

She stopped short as she realized that his skin had grown too pale, his body too limp beneath her.

"No."

She dropped her hands from his and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him in a panic and shouting out his name, voice growing more frightened and desperate with each call. But no matter what she said or did he offered her no answer, no smile, not even a twitch of understanding.

And then, finally, with their foreheads pressed together, hers drenched with sweat and his with blood, she stared into those clouded, half-open eyes, and realized that he wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anything.

Musashi pushed herself away from the body, clapping a hand to her mouth as she felt her insides heave upwards. She fought to keep herself from retching, instead pounding a hand into the ground and swearing between heaving, panicked breaths. Her eyes pricked with tears and she squeezed them shut, fists clenching at her sides.

No, some stubborn part of her remembered. You can't cry. You've got to be the strong one, Musashi.

She blinked hurriedly. That was right. She couldn't break down. She'd promised Kojiro.

Her hands were gentle as she reached forward to close his eyes to the brilliant sky, the bright sun, and the tight-lipped, trembling young woman bent over him, dry-eyed to the very end.

xxx

Two weeks later and Musashi sat on the floor of a restroom at Team Rocket Headquarters, her knees to her chest and her uniform crumpled in a ball across from her. She was supposed to wear it today when she met her new partner.

Her new partner. The thought churned her stomach, one final blow in the recent flurry of tiny atrocities.

First, the medics who had ripped Kojiro away from her, refusing to take her along or even tell her where they were going, and all because she couldn't answer their stupid question. "What was her relationship to the deceased?" How could she even begin to explain it? And what the hell business was it of theirs, anyway?

With nowhere else to go, she'd returned to the hideout for the hardest conversation of her life. Nyasu stared at her for what seemed hours and then sobbed for what seemed days. She knew she was supposed to do something to comfort him, but couldn't think of what. So she left him with his paws around Sounansu and went to the bedroom to report to headquarters. They sent her their empty sympathies and gave her two weeks off for bereavement. Was that how long it took to stop feeling like this? Musashi hadn't realized.

The two Rockets couldn't handle the empty corners of their cabin, so they'd left for town the next day - and ran straight into Kojiro's family butler. Nyasu explained who they were but the older man wouldn't tell them anything, just demanded "the young master's" possessions. Musashi smiled sweetly and told him she'd bring them the next day.

That night, she released Kojiro's Pokemon, saved a handful of mementos for herself and Nyasu, and set fire to everything else. Those miserable parents of his weren't getting a single battered bottle cap. She'd be damned if she allowed them even one iota of closure.

Nyasu had scanned the obituaries for days until he learned about the funeral. Musashi didn't see the point, but Nyasu insisted. "I never got to say goodbye," he'd said, and she caved because it was better than seeing him cry again.

So they returned to Kanto, snuck in with the caterers, and attended the kind of ceremony only the obscenely rich could afford, packed with people who knew the family and didn't give a damn about Kojiro. Musashi gritted her teeth and seethed through most of the day, struggling to behave for Nyasu's sake.

Then Kojiro's fiancee tried to give a teary-eyed speech and Musashi couldn't behave anymore.

She didn't remember exactly what she'd shouted at the other woman, but she did remember hitting her, and she certainly remembered the four men in suits throwing her out the back door and locking it behind them. She'd thought Nyasu would be angry when he found her, but he hugged her and laughed for the first time since the accident. She liked to think Kojiro would have approved, too.

On their way off the grounds, they were intercepted by three of the Kanto twerps - the two Gym leaders and the artist with the headband. Musashi felt briefly guilty for never learning their names. They gave her and Nyasu a small bouquet of roses, a box of homemade cookies, and a card from Satoshi and Pikachu. He'd wanted to come but couldn't make it back in time, they'd said.

Musashi hadn't expected real sympathy from anyone, least of all old enemies. It was the closest she'd come to crying since Kojiro had died. She held back her tears, though. She had to. She'd promised.

The kids were kind but didn't stay long. Nobody did. The world was moving on and trying to take her with it. Even Nyasu said they should figure out what they were going to do next. Kojiro was slowly getting left behind.

Now she was back at HQ, staring at that bright red "R" she'd dreamed about wearing for years, and she was absolutely certain she was going to vomit all over it. The place she'd spent half her life running towards now felt like a noose wrapped around her throat. She'd thought Team Rocket was her home, but maybe it had just been a building, no different from the cabin she'd been squatting in a week ago. Maybe it didn't mean anything without the people inside of it.

Maybe Kojiro had been right, and it was just a stupid job after all.

It took the hesitant tap of Nyasu's paw against the door to yank her back to the present. "Musashi? Everything okay?"

She opened the door, her uniform abandoned in the corner. "Everything's fine," she said. "Where's the nearest computer?"

xxx

"Are you sure you want to do this, Musashi?" Nyasu asked for the fourth time, staring at the 3-D globe of the earth glowing faintly on the monitor in front of them.

"I'm sure."

"You're positive? 'Cause if you don't want to there's lots of other things we could—"

"Just hit the button," she snapped wearily.

Nyasu knew better than to try arguing with her when she was like this. He clicked the mouse once and the globe began spinning on the screen. "Now," he said more to himself than his friend, clicking randomly. The globe jerked to a halt, highlighting the spot he'd clicked with a bright red dot. "Looks like it landed somewhere overseas. In Numera."

"Numera?" Musashi repeated. She set a hand to his shoulder so she could lean forward, studying the screen.

"Mm." He zoomed in on the spot. "Stroke of luck, really. Numeran is the only other language I speak well enough to get around." He read the name of the town closest to the highlighted spot. "Silver Falls." Nyasu clicked for a description. "A small mountain town with a rich historical past and many turn-of-the-century homes." He managed a chuckle. "No waterfalls, though."

"Can you book a flight from here, too?"

"Yeah, but..." He glanced up at her warily. "Are you really, really sure about this? You've wanted to be a Team Rocket field agent for even longer than I have."

"I don't rank high enough for them to send me out without a partner. And I can't..." Musashi's hand tightened against Nyasu's shoulder. He watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, then clenched her jaw and opened them again, all stony strength once more. She shrugged, as if the last few years had been nothing but a whim. "I gave it a shot. It's time to try something else. Someplace else. Where nobody's even heard of Team Rocket."

Or Kojiro, Nyasu finished silently. He wished Musashi would say it out loud. He wished she'd say a lot of things out loud. Maybe then she'd finally stop looking like a dam about to burst.

He didn't know how to tell her that, though, not without her turning her sadness into fury again like she'd done at Kojiro's funeral. He was worried about her, but he also knew he'd have an easier time keeping an eye on her if she didn't bite his head off first. So he sighed and said, "Two tickets to Numera, then."

"You don't have to come with me."

Nyasu froze mid-click, feeling something cold settle into his stomach. "Do you want to go alone?"

"I didn't say that," she said. "But you've got your own dreams. You don't have to give them up just because mine have changed."

He considered that. Then, with a calmness that surprised him, he said, "I think I'd trade a lifetime of naps in the Boss's lap for one more cold night in the woods wedged between you and Kojiro." He looked back at her again, catching her tired eyes with his own. "I've stuck with you through dumber decisions than this one. And we're still a team, right? Even without the uniforms?"

Even without Kojiro?

Musashi gave him that look again, like she was a stretched rubber band one tug from snapping. Then she clenched her jaw and turned away, arms crossed tight over her chest. "It's in the mountains, right? So don't come whining to me when you're freezing your paws off."

It was as close to an invitation as Nyasu would get. Coming from Musashi, it meant a lot. He smiled, patting the computer chair next to him. "Then settle in. We've got a big move to plan."

xxx

Where am I? I can't see anything. It's so dark. Are my eyes even open? Yes, they must be; there's a pinion of light in the distance, but it's so small it could be my imagination.

It doesn't seem like a dream. Maybe it's the hospital? Did they manage to save me? No, that can't be it. There's no pain. That's a plus, anyway. It hurt so much, not that I could tell Musashi that, she would have...

Wait, Musashi! Where's Musashi? Am I lying around sleeping while she's... and Nyasu, too, they must be worried sick after what happened. I have to let them know I'm okay. Is this a dream after all? Can I wake up? Where am I?!

Don't you know?

Huh? Know what? Who're you? Where are you? And where am I?

What do you remember?

I remember a crash. I remember being afraid. And in pain. And I remember Musashi. She held my hand. It gave me courage. I remember blue skies. Then quiet. Then this... blackness. Where am I?

You are in the place that is no place at all. A land where time stands still, the day never comes, yet no stars or moon shine. You are in the world between worlds, the Bridge between lands. In short, you are in The Rift.

The Rift? What's that? And what are you?

The Rift is the place between Life and Death. I am its Keeper, the Overseer of this blank space.

Why can't I see you? It's pretty unsettling, talking to a voice without an owner. Oh, there you are. Funny, but you look like a human. I always thought Divine Beings would seem different.

I have no true shape. I merely took this form because it's familiar for you. Now do you understand what is going on? No, I can see by your face that you do not. Questions?

How... how did I get here? I almost don't want to know, but...

You died.

I died?! Are you sure? M-maybe I'm just unconscious or something?

There are only two ways to pass into the Rift. One is through one of the few, shall we say, "tears" that can be found in a few places around the world. The other is death. You entered through a path very different from the torn roads. One must conclude you are dead.

Dead? No! I can't be dead! I don't want to be dead! I'm way too young! And – and Musashi didn't want me to die! If I'm dead, she'll... and Nyasu, they'll all... I don't want to hurt them!

Why are you crying? Your troubles are over. There's no pain once you pass through the Gates. If you only follow that point of light, you'll find that there's nothing to cry about. Doesn't that make you happy?

Of course not! I don't care about some weird light. I just want to go home!

To return to this Musashi, you mean? That is the "home" that would make you happy?

Yes! I don't need gates or lights or anything like that. If we could just share another meal, tell another joke... if I could hear her laugh, or hold her hand... That's all I ever really needed from life.

Or death?

Or death.

Very well, then. If that's the way you feel.

Huh? What do you mean?

I am the Keeper of the Rift, but I have other duties. It's my job to see that those who make it to the Gates are given what would make them happy. If being with Musashi is what you want, then I shall grant it.

You can send me back? It isn't too late?

It's never too late, given the right technique.

Technique? But what if they've already cremated me? How do you do it?

I have my ways. Rest for now. Before long you'll be back where you wish to be.

Rest? Funny, but I don't feel in the least bit tired. Does a soul get tired? Wait, where are you going? Don't leave! It's so lonely here, so quiet... the silence is unbearable.

Hm? I feel like I'm fading out... Hey! What's this? Even the darkness seems to be getting fuzzy. It's like... I'm falling asleep, or...

Oh, Musashi... Nyasu... I hope he's right, and you'll be there when I wake up again...