Wounds

A long time ago, a guy called The Hollow Man wrote a story called Old Wounds. It's far from perfect and I read it about seven years ago when I was a teenager. I re-read it recently and now I can see the glaring flaws pretty clearly, but I just can't get past the nostalgia and memories. Well, it's been over a decade since he last updated a story, so I think it's safe to say he won't be doing it any time soon. I've decided to try my hand at writing a pokemon story by doing my own take on his concept. It won't be harem, it will have aura and it will get pretty edgy at times. I guess it counts as a betrayal fic, too. Anyway, thanks for stopping by. I don't own Pokemon.

People are liars. It's their nature. They lie to save themselves, to fit in with others or just because it makes them feel better. You couldn't list all the reasons at once. They'll always find a way to justify it, too.

"It didn't take much for everyone to believe I'm a killer," said the boy in shackles who was sitting in a fancy, big-city office, slumped over and deadened. He got no response from the other occupant of the room.

His handcuffs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. The books lining the shelves on the walls made the place feel even more unwelcoming and looking out the big window behind the desk made him think of all the people out there in the city, in the whole world even, and how most of them now loathed him.

He was never a killer. He and his pokemon would fight for himself and anyone who needed help, of course. He wasn't a pushover. He'd never gone against anyone who didn't deserve it or attacked anyone without cause. Most of the confrontations throughout his journey had been reactionary on his part.

"He was always reckless. I never thought he'd do anything this… bad. I couldn't believe it when I heard but I guess..."

"I've known him so long and he… was never responsible. He always had a way of getting into trouble, into really bad situations."

"... was only a matter of time before something like this happened, I'm sorry to say. He couldn't train his pokemon properly and they always caused too much collateral damage. I only knew him a little under a year, but I battled him several times and…"

He swallowed his frustration. There was no way he could hurt anyone, and he thought at least his friends would know that. Were they ever really on his side? He'll never know.

All the people he'd ever known were gone from his life. His recent return home after another league loss meant he'd parted ways with a lot of new friends and enemies. Even after just having been with him and sharing all his adventures, they seemed to forget everything in favor of this new view of him, in favor of this lie.

"I've known him for about a year. H-he was the greatest friend I've ever had. A great trainer… he was always there when I needed him and helped how he could. He was so kind and passionate, and...We… I-I…I'm sorry, I can't…"

"We traveled together for years and… I'm sorry, but I don't know what to say."

If he wasn't in his current situation, he'd feel really bad for his "friends", but he didn't have room for those feelings. His life was over, hundreds of people were dead and it would hang over him until he died himself.

Everything since his return had been Hell. The first few days were joyful, happy, but now they'd always be overshadowed and remembered by him, and millions of others, as an unbelievable tragedy. One of the darkest days in Kanto's history.

Ash put his face in his hands and slumped forward even more. The only other occupant of the room was currently speaking to someone on the phone and paid him no mind. This man wasn't his friend by any means but he was the most welcoming person in the world to him.

Ash had spent several weeks already crying and yelling, pleading and hoping for any good news. None ever came and he'd become completely deadened. Nothing seems real anymore. His only way to keep up with everything had been the TV the prison allowed in his cell, constantly tuned into the news coverage of the event and of him. It was certainly allowed just to torture him. All the interviews with people he'd known were the worst, each one felt like a killing blow, each worse than the last.

Never in his life did he imagine going through anything like this. It all started on his third day back. After catching up, spending time with his pokemon and his mother and resting from a year of traveling, he had finally decided on his next journey and would leave in a couple of weeks to Unova.

(flashback)

Pallet was as serene as always this time. The homesteads and farms spread out throughout the entire sight and the low sun cast its tranquil warmth over it all. Ash stood atop the large hill that overlooked the town, with his best friend on his shoulder and the breeze caressing his tired face.

"We're back again. It sure is a pretty place, isn't it?"

He turned his head slightly towards Pikachu, with melancholy eyes and forcing his iconic grin.

Cha

He nuzzled up to his trainer's cheek and let off soft, warm sparks as Ash closed his eyes and laughed with all his heart.

"You know what we have to do now, right?"

Pika!

The electric mouse jumped down to the ground and Ash adjusted his hat one last time.

"Three, two, one!"

The duo took off at full speed, racing past all the gardens and houses, remembering everything about the town that they loved. The quiet, welcoming little place was just as they'd left it.

The running was electrifying. He was putting his all into the little contest and he knew exactly what he was going to get for it. His home, a nice hot dinner and a hug from his mother. As his legs pumped and his arms swung, his smile turned genuine. Pikachu was in the lead, but Ash was still winning.

He almost smiled. Almost. Right after he had arrived home, his mom had decided they were going shopping for his new clothes. He never liked to shop. He could think of better things to do with money and it was so boring. In the end his mother made the decision and he couldn't complain. He was only back for a short while and he intended to make the most of it with her, doing whatever she wanted. It was a great day. Celadon wasn't crowded and they spent the whole time enjoying the city.

'At least her last moments were happy,' he thought as his eyes began to water again.

"It's not looking good, Ash."

The lawyer had just hung up the landline. He walked around his desk to stand in front of Ash and leaned back against it.

"What now? What's gonna happen now?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"I'm going to be quick about this. In short, there's no way we can get you tried as a minor, not with over three hundred dead. However, the counts have all been charged as manslaughter. You're looking at many consecutive life sentences."

"They were trying to rule out execution, weren't they?"

"It's still a possibility, albeit highly unlikely due to your age. Look, the government as well as the general public sees you as a clear and present danger to society. If they don't kill you, they will put you away for good."

He took a deep breath and leaned forward a bit.

"Unless we cut a deal."

Ash nodded.

"What kind of deal could I get?"

"You plead negligence."

"I can't. I'm not guilty. I won't lie."

He balled his hands into fists and tried to hold back his tears. He'd heard of people seeing red when they got furious, but he swore he was starting to see blue.

"Ash, please-,"

"No! What's the point? Thirty years or fifty years or a life sentence? It's the same thing! I don't have a reason, I won't lie. I don't have any family or friends. No one will ever treat me like a person again. I don't have anything and I can't ever go back."

The attorney closed his eyes and went into thought as Ash put his distraught face into his hands.

"You're still dead set on claiming innocence, I see. Well, I do have one other option for you. Before I get into it, though, I want to know if you have any questions about… well, anything."

Of course he had questions but he knew this guy couldn't answer them.

"Who are the people accusing me?"

"You don't know any of them, I can almost guarantee. Twelve witnesses in total, most of the people who actually survived the explosion, as a matter of fact. Three were store workers, one was a security officer and the rest were customers. Eight are from Kanto, mostly older citizens from Celadon and the others are a family of four that was traveling from Hoenn. Do any of them sound familiar to you?"

(flashback)

Ash had been inside the big complex only a few times before, and it hadn't really changed much in the last several years. There was everything from gloves and scarves to bikes and small motorcycles. He was only here to get a few things, though. His mom had decided to go and look at some stuff for herself and, being a teenage boy, he wanted to avoid shopping for purses or earrings and all the girly things.

With Pikachu on his shoulder, he walked across the white tiled floor, past all the shops and stands within the mall. He had his hands in his pockets and casually perused through everything as he waited for his mom to come find him.

"Hey, look at that!" he said loudly as he pointed at the glass window of a hat shop.

Pika?

The hat he was pointing at was a deep red all around, except for a big golden lightning bolt on the front. Ash walked up to the glass to examine it closer.

"That would look great on me, don't you think?"

Pika!

His best friend nodded excitedly as they smiled at each other. Just as he was about to head in, he felt his stomach lurch. Out of nowhere, he got a sick feeling, like he'd just gotten off a long roller coaster ride.

"What the- dang, I'd better sit down."

Chu?

"I'm good, I just got to sit down for a bit."

He made his way to a nearby bench dizzily, nearly stumbling to the ground as everything seemed to start wobbling around him.

"What's going on…"

Everything started to get cloudy as he sat down and rubbed his temples. Pikachu jumped off his shoulder and fanned him with his tail. He forced a smile.

"Thanks, buddy. I don't know-,"

This was the moment the world changed. All he could remember clearly were his senses. The blinding white light, the deafening boom and the extreme heat on his skin. Diving over Pikachu to protect him and seeing a faint blue light were the last things he did before he would wake up in a hospital bed, weeks later.


"No."

"They all say the same thing. A teenage boy with dark black hair, brown eyes, average height, a blue shirt and a Pikachu on his shoulder released his Charizard in the middle of the shopping center. The Charizard used some attacks that hit the gas lines in the building and brought the entire structure down. That's it, essentially."

Ash didn't have the will to get angry anymore.

"That's not true. Is Charizard still safe?"

"Yes, your Charizard has been sent back to Professor Oak for the meantime and will remain in his custody, confined to its PokeBall. Although, it was made clear that the act was only for your Charizard's sake, not your own."

Ash simply nodded.

"That's it."

"Alright. The one other option you're left with is exile. As the trial would take months at best, everyone realizes that putting all those involved through it would be downright cruel. The media, grieving families reliving the tragedy and a mass of red tape are things everyone involved would like to avoid. Essentially, the government will erase all of your records. Everything. Your birth, your school records, your trainer's license, every single file and paper with your name on it that they can get their hands on will be destroyed. It will be as if you never existed. Not even as a blip in the government's radar. Finally, you won't have to plead guilty in any possible way. It's a relic of a law, and it hasn't been implemented in over a century, but it's still on the table. Just for you."

Ash nodded again.

"Where would they send me for exile?"

He pushed his glasses upwards and looked down pitifully at Ash.

"I have no idea. The only thing I know is you won't be allowed to step foot in any of the Regions in the Union, not just Kanto. You will be killed on sight if you are caught. Even if all your records are gone, you won't be forgotten for a long time."

Ash stared ahead blankly and nodded once more.

"I choose that."


Everything after his request for exile was a quick blur. Being stuck in a cell the entire time was a big reason for that. His request had been processed and approved by the next day. The government, the prosecution and the public all agreed that sending him to die on some forsaken rock was for the benefit of everyone, but there were still a few people who maintained that it wasn't harsh enough and would rather have him executed.

In all this time, not a single person had come to visit him besides lawyers and prison workers. Even when he was at the hospital for a couple of months, the only other person to come visit him was some journalist who managed to get past security but she only lasted a few seconds before being dragged out. He had lost hope of anyone visiting him a while ago, now he just had the fear of facing them, but it didn't end up mattering.

He thought it was ironic that it had been years since he stayed in his own house for more than a few weeks at a time, but between the hospital and his cell, almost four months had passed.

(flashback)

The white ceiling was foreign to Ash. His favorite sight to wake up to was a sunrise, with bright orange light and clear blue skies pushing out the starry night sky to usher in a new day, a new adventure. This sterile looking ceiling was depressing.

Continuing on with the devastating news of last month's tragedy, our very own Cooper Anderson is currently at Twinleaf in Sinnoh for another exclusive interview with an acquaintance of the accused perpetrator. Over to you, Anderson.

Twinleaf? Ash shot up as high as he could with his healing body and hissed in pain. He had to stop doing that. His eyes were greeted by someone he should have been ecstatic to see. Instead, his heart sank like a rock as her dark blue eyes, dull and watery, looked into the camera as she was introduced. His own eyes widened as he noticed that her perpetually immaculate hair was unkempt. She got herself into what looked like a suit for this formal appointment but she was in seriously bad shape, probably worse than any of his other 'friends'.

I've known him for a year…

Ash nodded slightly to himself. He remembered the day they met fondly.

H-he was the greatest friend I've ever had…

He grunted under his breath.

A great trainer… he was always there when I needed him and helped how he could. He was so kind and passionate, and...We… I-I…I'm sorry, I can't…

She broke down crying right in front of the camera, racking him with guilt, anger and some other feelings. His heart monitor started beeping as he grit his teeth and laid back down on the hospital bed, once again staring back up at the white ceiling with a blue tint. He would never get over this.


'I hope Pikachu and all the others are alright. I wish I could've just said goodbye'

He knew that his buddies were all still loyal to him. Pikachu had been taken to Oak's lab with the rest of them after a brief stay at a pokemon hospital. His survival was the only silver lining.

Some people had wanted them all to be sent away to some place where they couldn't be a danger, like a reserve or sanctuary, or at least released into the wild far away from any people. Oak had refused, claiming they were now his legally and would not allow them to be taken away. Ash didn't know what to make of that, but at least they would be together and safe. Or maybe they wanted to leave? Thinking about it was harsh and he hoped that, whatever happened, they'd be happy.

Ash remembered all the good times with his partners. Every gym battle, evolution and capture was playing through his head as he recounted his life. It was a short life but at least he made the most of it. He teared up reminiscing about all the adventures throughout the world, challenging the pokemon leagues, meeting legendaries he never knew existed, seeing so many amazing places and just doing what he loved. Not everyone could have such a life. He had no regrets about anything he'd done and he could safely say he loved his life and enjoyed every moment of it, up until this point.

He wished he'd just died in the explosion. Or when he was being treated at the hospital. He almost did perish several times there, but he managed to pull through every time by some miracle. No, not a miracle. A curse.

He rubbed his arm and felt some of the horrible scars that covered a sizable area of his body. It all seemed insignificant now that he was just going to die anyway.

'I wonder if Brock's gonna keep trying to be a doctor? How long will Dawn keep doing contests? Is Gary gonna be as important as Professor Oak some day?'

It didn't matter. They would move on just fine. He didn't need to be around to know that. Maybe they'll get some hate for their previous connections to him. Who knows.

As Ash was considering whether he should nap or pace around his cell, he heard some footsteps nearing. Sitting up, he looked at his door.

The gears turned and the heavy thing scraped the floor as it opened, revealing the same stone-faced guard that he'd been seeing for the past several months whenever he had his food delivered or was taken to the doctor or to see his lawyer. This time, though, he wasn't alone. A dozen other heavily armed cops streamed in along with him, and they were all followed by a short bald man in a tan suit who wasted no time and cleared his throat.

"It's time, boy. You are now being taken away to fulfill your sentence. Do you understand? Stand up and step over here, please."

Ash did as told and stuck his arms out for his familiar handcuffs. As he was led out of his cell for the last time, he looked back at the small, desolate space with gray walls. There was nothing left for him, not in the cell or anywhere else in the world. He made his way with the guards and that was that.


Lance looked out the window of the helicopter and took in the expanse around them. There was water to the west that went off as far as he could see. There were definitely some seriously powerful pokemon down there. To the south he could see what appeared to be many small islands scattered, but those were at least thirty klicks away, likely way more. To the east, though, there was a large mass of untamed jungle, undoubtedly on a larger island. Probably lots of powerful pokemon down there too, looking for an easy meal.

This didn't exactly sit well with Lance. Nothing about this did, but the orders had been given and he made sure to volunteer for this job as soon as it was announced. He had to make sure everything at least went smoothly since he felt great pity for the young trainer and this was such a rare task that he didn't think anyone else could be trusted with.

Lance was supposed to stay neutral in all of this. He wasn't supposed to let his own thoughts influence his work and he did a good job of not letting it happen, but he felt some sort of guilt for all of the preceding events. Of course he couldn't have stopped the tragedy or decide Ash's fate but he could tell nothing was adding up. His busy schedule afforded him no time to look into it on his own and he was stressed to no end. He hoped that things were playing out fairly and justly, but he couldn't help but doubt it. Everything was already heartbreaking enough.

"The kid doesn't look scary. I think he's kind of pathetic looking. Not really a mass murderer type, you know?"

Lance didn't respond but he did look back at the aforementioned kid once more. He was sitting alone on the passenger side of the helicopter cargo bay, facing the empty space while a guard sat at the back end. He was still wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, exactly like Lance had gotten used to seeing. Pathetic wasn't the right word. Defeated was more appropriate. This was not at all how Lance remembered him.

"I'm going to speak to him and let him know how everything is supposed to go."

The pilot nodded and Lance unbuckled himself and stood to make his way back. Ash didn't acknowledge him. Lance took a seat across from him and looked him over once more. He was definitely not the same kid he remembered, but after all he'd been through, Lance didn't expect him to be.

"It seems like we're almost there. I never thought the League would exile someone, especially a kid. I have to brief you. Do you have any questions first?"

Ash stared at Lance, still confused as to why the region's strongest trainer and captain of the Kanto Regional Defense Force was the one escorting him. He looked at Ash closely with a stern face, still as intimidating as always. He still admired the man after all this time and lamented how he never got to battle him and he never even got close to his level. Just a few months ago he'd have been ecstatic to get to see him.

He still had questions that would never be answered but he resigned to just get some basic information from what would be his last conversation ever.

"No one thinks I'll survive, right? I'm just supposed to die?"

"That's beyond me. We've almost reached the destination and our orders are to leave you in a 'relatively hospitable location'. I have no idea who or how many think you'll die."

Lance looked at the pilot when the helicopter started to slow and he stood to open the compartment above his seat to look for something.

"How are things going? With the people. All the people hate me, don't they?"

"It seems the general consensus is that you are despised. That's how people are. They believe what's easiest to understand, and it wasn't hard convincing them you were the worst terrorist in our history."

It sounded almost like Lance thought he was innocent. Not that it mattered anymore.

"I don't really have any more questions. I just want to get this all over with."

Lance had pulled a black backpack from the storage compartment and brought it over to Ash, gently dropping it on the ground in front of him. He pulled a folded paper from his breast pocket and opened it, preparing to recite the contents.

"Convict number 0448960, you have been granted your request for exile in lieu of trial. You have been accused of high crimes against the Region of Kanto and its citizens. You are prohibited from ever entering the territory of Kanto, and by extension its allies. You will be put to death should you fail to comply. You are to refrain from conspiring against Kanto and its allies, and in return for your cooperation, you are granted complete autonomy. Do you understand and agree to these conditions?"

"Yes."

"The bag has water and basic supplies for the wilds. It's not much."

As Lance was finishing the talk, they felt the helicopter jerk upwards slightly. They were landing.

Lance stepped towards the door and opened it to a wall of jungle that was denser and taller than any Ash had ever seen. It was as unwelcoming as it was impressive. Very intimidating.

"Pilot, what is this? I thought we were supposed to leave him near some kind of settlement?" Lance yelled while quickly stepping back to the pilot's seat.

"No settlements out this far, sir, and the closest ones we know of aren't people friendly."

"Why are we in the middle of the fucking jungle?"

"I just flew where I was told to, sir."

"Who ordered-,"

"It doesn't matter!"

Lance turned back to Ash.

"I don't care. Let me out now. Please."

Lance was about to argue more but resigned. He couldn't do anything about it. He unlocked Ash's shackles and released him from the seat. He stood up slowly and sorely, trying not to lose it.

"This is goodbye then, Ash. I wish things hadn't turned out like this. No one deserved what happened to them."

"Yeah."

Ash gave him one last look before shouldering the backpack and jumping out onto the ground. He could feel the threat of the jungle, the imminent danger and hopelessness that filled the atmosphere. The walls of the forest left no room for weakness, he could tell that. It was humid, dark and worst of all, quiet.

Just as he was about to start walking, Lance got his attention again.

"Wait! I do have one more thing for you."

Ash turned back around and saw Lance reach to his belt on the right. He popped his holster and pulled out the gun he carried, then its extra magazine and held them both out to Ash. The Champion's stoic look wasn't holding up too well.

"We couldn't allow you your pokemon, but even if we did I doubt they'd survive long here either. This might not serve much for protection, but I know what you intend to do. This will be the easiest way. I really wish things hadn't turned out this bad, Ash."

He hadn't expected this gesture at all. He'd never held a gun in his life before and the one right in front of him right now was surely intimidating. Reaching out himself, he grabbed both the items and inspected them nervously for a moment before dropping his backpack to store them.

"Goodbye, Ash. I hope you get peace."

Ash nodded.

With one last sympathetic look at him, Lance closed the door and the helicopter began its ascension through the seemingly impossible to navigate canopy of branches, but it made it out shortly and left no indication they'd ever been here.

Ash examined the thick walls of the jungle once again. His heartbeat was flaring and his palms were sweating.

I need to find someplace calm

He pushed forward unto the untamed land. Every step he took, he could feel more radiance around him. He knew there were eyes watching him and he was sure to be attracting more at the moment. He walked to where the trees were thinnest and forced his way through the humid vegetation before anything decided to strike.

If there had been anyone around, they couldn't blame him for crying. He had no reason to hold back the tears now. He pushed his way through dense leaves and vines as he ran, trying to burn off some of the emotion. The tears poured as he tried to remember all the good memories one final time, with his mom, his pokemon and his friends. Wherever his mom was, he hoped to maybe see her again. He prayed that Pikachu and the rest could forgive him for what he was about to do.

As luck would have it, he came upon a small cave that would be a perfect resting place. He forced his way through the vegetation and stumbled in, his shoulders heaving and the tears still flowing. He backed up to the rocky wall and laid against it, dropping the useless bag Lance gave him on the ground. He really was grateful for the gun. It made this so much easier. He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath to ease himself as he sat in the lonely hole, holding the cold steel in his right hand. He'd never considered even holding a gun before in his life.

He didn't even know why. Why he had to do this, why he was blamed, why everyone abandoned him… why. Nothing he did helped, his breathing was still heavy and the damn tears just wouldn't stop. No one could blame him.

Mom… Pikachu… I'm sorry

His trembling hand reached closer to his face, still clutching the firearm.

It's over now… it's over

He fully intended on pulling the trigger. The safety was off and everything. He only stopped because of the light that he could barely see through his tightly closed eyes. The bright blue illuminated the entire cave entrance and distracted him from everything long enough to not end it. He gazed in awe at the beautiful color, slowly standing up and searching around the cave for the source. It took him a moment to realize it was him. The feeling that washed over him now was indescribable. He didn't want to die anymore, not at this moment, but he didn't want anything. Everything was being pushed out of his mind, little by little. Even the memories that he cherished so much were starting to fade, along with all the horror of the past months. It felt liberating and frightening. It wasn't catharsis, it was something primal. He would survive.


The night life in Vermilion wasn't for the squeamish. Being a large port city and a major intersection for interregional trade, licit or otherwise, you could find anything you desired. The messy, crowded streets of the East End District were alive with red light flavor with all the escorts and slingers on the early shift prowling about as limousines and ratty old compacts shared the road in search of a good time. Noticeably, they all avoided one certain place. Everyone knew to stay far enough away unless you were invited, and it was impossible to get invited under normal circumstances.

The building was four stories tall, one of the highest on this street. The fancy, cursive sign on the front simply read Zucco's. A single doorman the size of an Aggron stood under the front awning, wearing shades and a black suit as he spoke into a small radio. He nodded as a lone dark blue luxury sedan stopped in front of him and the passenger got out. He was an older gentleman, if you could call him that. There was no hair on his head save for a thin mustache. He pushed up his rimless glasses as he adjusted his cheap tie, nodding at the doorman when he passed.

The inside looked about as legitimate as it could get, housing a bar with nothing but top shelf bottles and a flashy young bartender. Taking up most of the space was a banquet hall with ornate tables and candles that was staffed by elegant and swift waiters. The clientele were all very well off, that much was clear. Beautiful women roamed the place and looked for new men to introduce themselves to as the jazz band played their soothing notes. The gentleman fought his temptation and walked past all of this towards the doors at the back of the building.

His meeting wasn't with a highball or a one night girlfriend tonight. He made his way up some stairs and rubbed his hands nervously on the way up. The walk was only worsening his sweat. Once on the top floor, he stepped off the staircase and looked around the hall. There were only a few doors up here, but there were several guards. Two of them were human, each one built like a Machoke with a suit and a big rifle. They stared him down as he approached the end of the hall and the three Arcanines they worked with stood up to intimidate him with their deep growls and inferno eyes. He nearly pissed himself right there. He was one of those people who didn't see the need to interact with pokemon very often, especially not the carnivorous ones.

He made it safely past them all as one held the door open for him, but his anxiety didn't drop much. Finally at his destination, he was face to face with his appointment. He flinched when the heavy door behind him slammed shut, sealing him in.

"Ah, what's your name? Will? Come on, old timer. Sit."

The offer came from the main man of the room, the one sitting on the center sofa by himself. He gestured with a cigar in his hand to an empty chair that sat across from him, on the other side of a low table. Will did as he was told and sat down where he was surrounded by the scariest people he'd ever seen. Well, he couldn't really see them all too well, with all the cigar smoke and dark lighting. He could barely make out any faces, just fancy suits, red or black or white, that made his look even more like a cheap cut of a rag. He was sure their pristine leather shoes were worth more than his entire wardrobe.

"I want to thank you, Will. Everything went along just like we wanted. My compatriots and I just have a few questions for you before you get paid and settle up. Ok?"

The man took another drag from his cigar and smoothly let it out. His voice was stern yet low, goading him into calming down. He leaned forward and Will realized he was wearing red mirrored sunglasses and had well combed, jet black hair.

"Twenty years on the force, huh?"

He nodded his bald head quickly.

"Yes, sir. Since I was eighteen."

"Interesting. I'm eighteen myself. Why'd you agree to our job?"

Will rubbed his hands together as he looked down at them. This guy was a teenager?

"My kids. My ex-wife, she takes everything I have and I just want to be able to leave something for them when I'm gone. I needed a lot of money. Off the books."

The man nodded with his cigar in his mouth.

"We can make her stop."

Will's eyes went wide.

"No, I- no, please."

"Just say the word if you change your mind. Things must seem crazy, right? Why would I want some kid dead in the first place, huh? Then I go to all this trouble and he just fucking survives. Then I get you and you give me just the help I need on such short notice. Thank you for that, of course. What do you plan on doing now? Move to Alola and run out the clock on some pretty beach?"

Will laughed sheepishly.

"Yes, it's all been really crazy. No, I think I'll keep working until I retire."

"Good, good. You got any questions for me?"

"No, not really sir."

"Straight to the point. That's why I like working with cops, you all just want to get in and get out. Needless to say, I'll kill you and your family if you upset me. Go and have yourself a drink downstairs, Divo here'll give you your cash. If we need your help again, we'll be in contact."

With that, the man waved him off with his cigar hand and he excused himself, shaking as he stood. One of the large men with a white suit stood up with a briefcase and handed it over to him as he scurried his way out.

The room remained still for a bit, everyone smoking and relaxing as the ambience settled. The main man looked around before he stood and made his way to the large window behind him, gazing at the inky night sky and the busy, flashy streets.

"What do you guys want for dinner?"