This story was co-developed by Titan127 and beta read by ShonnaRose and JhinoftheOpera.

[15-1] Calling On Family

"Ciel, about what happened to your Pokémon. That's why I called. I wanted to say something to you, but I kept putting it off, and I… If you need someone, you can—"

The line blinked with dead air.

Neither she nor Saber knew exactly what to do about it. On the crystallized bedding in her freezing room, she was suddenly overcome by the temperature. Something had kept it at bay, kept it from biting her skin and stealing her breath.

"I'm not certain what just happened," her brother managed. He was now only a weak candle compared to the bonfire that raged before.

A text carried her concern to Ciel, but she was met with no reply, even after a few follow-ups. She pressed into her forehead with her fingertips and courted the shame inside her palms. After days of sitting on it, waiting for her Poké GEAR to arrive, and convincing herself that for once she wasn't calling someone purely because it was the polite thing to do and instead because she cared, she blew it.

When she realized her self-hatred was overpowering the dissolving regret, and that she was thinking about her own missing Pokémon more than the one that had died, she knew she was being selfish. Did she really care? Or was she was just trying to prove something to someone or other? Selfish isn't what she was raised to be.

"Would you prefer to call him back?"

"You called about Mom and Dad and you want me to think me being stupid is more important?"

He couldn't find a convincing argument against it, but his slow response implied he disagreed. She steadied her breathing a bit, as it hitched in her throat the moment he said the word "murder". Hopefully she was an octave more serious when she spoke again. "What are you suggesting we do about Dr. Cassius? Have you told the police?"

"Not yet. We, err, I was withholding until I was certain my intelligence was valid."

"We?"

"Nevermind. For now, I wanted to clue you in, in case you might… have some information of your own?"

She didn't even know what to say to that, aside from calling it out-of-character, and debated the black screen of the Pokétch. It was only fair that if he was giving her important info, that she should talk about the Viceregal Office or whatever dubiously-legal secrets Lucian was keeping, even though neither topic was safe enough to spread with abandon. Ultimately decided that they could shove it. "Fine. Well, I learned a few things while I was here too. Have you seen the reports of the Galactic guys?"

"I've closely monitored radio broadcasts since I left." She wondered if he was still using his old Pokétch for it, since he obviously wasn't using to make calls to her anymore.

"They're hired goons. The cops are looking into the situation—" She left Lucian's involvement ambiguous. For his own safety, or something. "—and they have it in their heads that it's all some kind of foul play, because they found out that the Viceroy 'mysteriously' lost records of previous Champion candidates."

"Foul play does ring true with what I was told by Dr. Carolina. The Adamant Orb itself disappeared under dubious circumstances coinciding with the collapse of the Pokémon League's regular operations and the return of these Galactic characters, which let it fall beneath major media attention."

"Mom's grandma? She's still alive?" She shook off her own question. "Wait, someone stole— are you saying Dr. Cassius did it?"

"He is the only person who could've accessed it, and he had a motive to do so."

A lifeless snort fired out her nose when she realized the absurdity of the heist. The Rockets at least had the gall to steal something useful like rare Pokémon. "All of this for some stupid rock. Would he really go this far?"

"I… have reason to believe he might."

"Huh?"

"The Adamant, Lustrous, and Griseous Orbs may be more volatile than we realize. I don't believe it's in our best interests to dismiss the theft outright."

She scoffed. "What, you believe in Legendary Pokémon now?"

"I wasn't claiming that," he said unsteadily, "but according to Dr. Carolina, our mother did. Whatever that truly means, neither the ASPI nor our mother wanted those artifacts to fall into hands of anyone else. I have to believe it was for a good reason."

Yeah, fat chance. Mom was interested in the historical implications of belief in Legendary Pokémon, and the ways it shaped personal and social cultures, but she wasn't that interested. She was the last person Kris would peg as descending into conspiracy, but she kept to herself that he didn't inspire confidence. She was a little caught up on him asking her for her help.

She wasn't really prepared to touch the subject, nor did she find it necessary, but she wasn't the only one with an opinion. "Thanks for letting me ramble, I guess. I was kind of expecting you to just say 'I'm working on it' and then dump me."

This apparently made Saber quake in his boots, or at least that's what it sounded like. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you behind."

She softened. "I wouldn't have wanted to go anyway."

"It's that I failed to ask. No matter what your true feelings are, it was wrong of me to ignore them and then drag you around."

It was probably the most honest he'd ever been with her, when the most she could usually expect was an impenetrable smile. She didn't want to ask if he'd do this more often—she'd jinx it—but it was… nice.

"Well," she began, searching for words that wouldn't come. Why was it so hard to be grateful and say it outright? "It means a lot to me. So, thanks. Yeah."

"I'd love to tell you more about my travels whenever I do finally make my way home. Perhaps we can sit down and be a normal family for once."

She heard the quiver in his tone. It wasn't an insult to her, but a condemnation of everything that had happened. Maybe he had already made peace with it, maybe not. She definitely hadn't. "Maybe. I can kick your butt in Dragon King or something."

"Oh?" He simmered with sly intention. "Is that a challenge? I've honed my skills since we last fought."

"In Pokémon, maybe. But there's no way you're not still a messy pile with a controller."

He said, "Lay out your rules."

"Mains. No items. Flat stages. Four lives."

For a moment, she really was on the couch next to him, surrounded by stacks of books that she only barely convinced him to stash for a moment to get away from it all. The channel input switched to the console, and the game booted to a resounding battle cry. She just wanted to stare at it for hours until the blue light turned her retinas to dust.

Hell, she wanted to get up and run, and her fingers flexed with each beat of the rhythm in her head. For a moment, she was living a life again.

"I'm so happy you're doing well. And I'm sorry I wasn't the person you needed to help you," said Saber, breaking her from her spell of self-delusion. The warmth of an implied hug carried through the screen. "I love you, Kris."

She didn't mirror it. It lingered on her lips like an aftertaste, and he knew that she meant every word she couldn't say. He was so difficult to place second to, and sometimes it seemed like she didn't deserve a family like him, but he wouldn't let her believe that. Saber dissolved into the data stream, and a cold "CALL ENDED" took his place.

Kris turned onto her pillow and the world went black. It was such a short call. She didn't even tell him about Kiki. Wouldn't that have been important? But she was out of breath just by that short conversation, and she needed some rest before she could even begin to try again.

One step at a time.

She hoped Ciel knew that too.

Saber snapped the burner phone shut and deflated his chest. Mr. Redwood watched without motion while leaning against the rusty door of a derelict car, his pupils focused. The fading afternoon streamed in from a gap in the concrete above, and the Gligar above hung still. Dust floated in the stagnant rays.

"Why didn't you want me to tell her about the message contents? Or you?" His candor was the sole purpose of the call, but just as Saber had planned to make it, the agent had pulled him aside and laid out his thoughts on what to share.

"Consider this, sir: You don't have everything put together yet, about this "master" figure, nor do you have any indication as to why. Without the full picture, your sister will probably misinterpret it in some way."

"Fair point," said Saber, "but that concern in mind, it's contradictory to what you told me before."

The agent averted his eyes, clearly understanding what he meant. Nevertheless, he said, "Elaborate."

"She is my family. Of all the people to trust with my studies, shouldn't she be the highest priority? She shoulders a stronger right than anyone."

"And what if something happens to you? I have the means to defend you, so—"

"I don't require defending."

"Yes. Right. Obviously, sir. But if we're targeted by this Dr. Cassius guy, she doesn't have any means right now to help you until you can give her a complete picture of what it is Mr. and Dr. Masuta were trying to clue you into."

"And what if I fail to complete the picture?"

Mr. Redwood narrowed his pupils in the dark, and a penetrating determination slipped beneath Saber's guard. "It's my job to ensure that you do, sir."

The promise was strong enough to quell any further disagreements, and shortly after Saber returned to his work. He wore the other man's gaze until eventually the agent returned to the city to continue a never-ending manhunt. The dust filled the space he left behind.

Mr. Redwood told Saber to be generous with his trust, not to ration it, and yet he was quick to compromise. It begged the existence of more factors hiding under sensitive skin, beneath a man who betrayed the Pokémon League for… this. Knowing that, Saber picked up the pace, knowing that the sooner he grasped his truth, the sooner they could both put this behind them.

"What I want."

Kris kept ruminating on that phrase in front of a vapid queue of television channels, passing in and out on a perpetual scan. A massive display and a state-of-the-art sound system didn't matter when there was nothing on. It was bona fide pageantry and op-eds about the Region's economic downturn and pointless, endless theorizing about the next champion that would come to save them from bloody men.

Because the world had ceased turning, everyone was living through the endless night hoping for the sun to rise someday. Without end to their plight, they ran out of things to talk about.

The door snap closed behind her, and her neck hairs tightened. The Viceroy's newest feast on her privacy left her little opportunity to get away from the four, five, six, sixteen guards that now lived in her shadow. They didn't try to hide themselves, and they made it clear that privacy was no longer a divine right. She showered by counting slowly on her toes, and pressed her back against the door while she dressed because its lock had been ripped out.

According to Lucian, the announcement was two hours after noon today, which he'd slipped to her in the halls a couple days ago as she tried to outpace the legion of guarded footsteps. When the guards demanded the content of their whispers, she explicitly recalled a recent photo-op of Byron Pierrick, skin slick with an afternoon's effort, muscles rippling on the downswing of his pickaxe—neither she nor Lucian could think about anything else. They rightfully backed off when she started chewing on her lower lip.

He probably only told her to be polite, because his prior message was clear: Kris wasn't welcome because she didn't need to be. It was business for consequential people.

Did she even want to support him?

Kris stepped up to the suite window and laid her fingertips upon the reinforced glass. Her gaze lingered on the person in her reflection, daring her to move of her own accord. She stayed perfectly still and awaited her to kill, but not only did she not budge, she kept standing there after Kris turned away.

The clock read 14:00.

She took two paces, then four, then ten. As she passed by, she grabbed a hoodie and some loose sweats that she'd laid out on the coffee table.

She fell into her starting stance.

She ran.

With a deafening crash, the window shattered, and she plummeted into the howling wind.

This chapter got reworked way more than almost every other chapter in this series. It's honestly strange, but basically a lot of the information originally written here got outdated by future chapters (keep in mind that this chapter was first written last December).

Anyway, next time is Part 2: Not Our Champion. See you someday!