Chapter 5: Ghosts like to Linger

August 15, 2020, Alola Region

"Arceus above, she is amazing!" James said as he and Chase walked through the city with their new belongings. They had met up with Luna and looked over the clothes they had amassed before they went their separate ways, with James going home with Chase.

"She definitely seems like it. Perhaps it would have been better if you had asked her out like I told you." Chase responded as he carried the combined load of both their clothes. It wasn't a lot of clothes so he didn't mind.

James turned red again. "Can we please not talk about it? I'm just not ready yet."

"Alright, alright. I'll drop it. But you have to do it soon." He knew James had to do it himself, and whether he knew it or not, he'd be grateful that Chase convinced Luna to give him more time.

"I know... It's just that- how do I know that I'm good enough for her? What would she say? What would she think? We've been friends for as long as my memory can backtrack. I don't want to mess this up or else everything we have will be up in smoke." The Luxray responded quite dramatically. Chase could relate to the Luxray in this way. James was overthinking things when all he needs to do is take leap of faith.

"James, you're overreacting. It's not like she's going to hate you because you forgot to get her a gift." Chase responded, trying to sprinkle a bit of humor to lighten his friend's mood.

"Heh... I guess not. She never liked expensive gifts anyway. But I did get her something anyway." James said as he pulled a little box out of his pocket. The same one that he took with him that morning. He opened the box and the ring shined brilliantly in the daylight.

Chase was impressed with the ring's luster and closely inspected it. It looked too old to be tailored by a modern smith. "It's beautiful. Family heirloom?"

"Something like that. It's not a priceless artifact that's been passed down generation by generation, but it's still a special keepsake. It was my grandfather's. He never told me how he got it. But I never really questioned it since he was a very mysterious man before he passed away. I'd say that you could examine his studies for months and still have more secrets to discover. But this ring is a symbol of trust. It's a statement and sentiment that I trust her with something as valuable as this, and that I trust her with my heart as well." He smiled at the ring and delicately put it back into the box before putting that box into his jacket. "I planned on asking her out today and giving it to her, but I couldn't."

Chase smiled at James's sentimental attitude. The innocence and purity of the love he was feeling was enough to make a grown man cry. "I never took you for a romantic."

James chuckled. "Hopeless romantic is more like it."

Chase chuckled with him. "Don't sell yourself short. you'll do great with Luna."

"Do you really think so?" James asked.

"I do. I don't know how many more times I have to tell you that." Chase joked.

"Okay, okay, okay. I get it. I'll make sure to internalize your infinite wisdom, your grace." He did a mocking bow which got them both to chuckle. After that, they moved on.

The Duo walked through the city and took in the sights as the sun was slowly moving towards the horizon. The buildings towered over them in height and looked imposing as they loomed over the two. It is a normal sight to see nowadays and isn't much to be excited about. They continued walking through the streets and looked at all of the roaming people. Humans and their pokemon walked to their destinations, anthros did the same. Chase noticed a couple consisting of a human male and an anthro Blaziken. He looked around and found a group of people all having a laugh. they all consisted of anthros, pokemon, and humans. The sheer scale of the city and the peace between the people was almost enough to make him shed a tear.

"I still can't believe it." Chase said.

"Believe what?" James asked

"The people, the city, how everyone seems to get along. No differences between us. We're just people." The Umbreon said as they walked.

"It's good that you like it here. I know how different this is and I'm glad that you're embracing it." James said.

"I'm glad that I have the opportunity to." Chase replied.

The two continued walking until they reached another bench. they sat down and took in the changing colors of the sky above, juxtaposed with the static colors of the city skyline. The sight was magnificent. The colors of the horizon turned from a bright orange to an opulent violet, to a darker blue. The sun was starting to go down but it didn't mean that the day was over. The sun had shown brilliantly between the tall buildings of the city. The peace was disturbed by a man sitting on the bench, between them.

"Is this seat taken?" The man asked.

"Not at all. You can sit here." James responded.

"Thanks." The man sat down and continued. There was a long pause of silence before the man spoke again.

"You know, a sylveon almost got mugged yesterday. An umbreon with white rings saved her." He spoke with a foreboding tone.

"And? What's your point?" Chase asked while giving the stranger a suspicious side-eye.

"The point, is that you should be more careful with who you mess with." He didn't lift the veil that hid his identity.

"Is that a threat? Because I can oblige if it suits your fancy." Chase gripped the hilt of his knife.

"I don't need to be reminded of that. Not after you did this to me." The man lowered his hood to reveal the same crook from the previous day. He showed Chase the scar.

"So? Did you come for revenge? I would gladly add another scar to the tally." The umbreon said while tightening his grip on the hilt.

The crook shook his head. "No. I'm just here to give you a warning. Don't cross me. Do so and you'll regret it. I have friends in high places who would take pleasure in making an example out of you." The man said threateningly.

Chase scoffed and stood up. "You can't be serious, right? what "friends in high places" would a two-bit thug like you have?"

"Who are you calling two-bit? I thought you would have remembered me, Chase Gardner." The man said.

Chase froze. He never told anyone besides the sylveon or the Volt family his full name. This was someone he knew. He squinted at the man and then it hit him. "Markus?"

"In the flesh! Did you really think that leaving me for dead was going to get rid of me?" He looked at Chase with a mocking grin.

"But- how? How did you survive the meltdown?" The umbreon pulled his knife out and prepared for anything.

"Revenge does wonders for the will to live, don't you think? I was planning on hunting you down myself but it seems that you've fallen right into my lap!" He laughed as he stamped his foot on the ground.

Chase didn't waver in his fighting position. "Who are you working for now?"

"I'm running solo on this one. But I do have people who owe me some favors, some life debts, some actual debts, and whatnot. Did you really think a dead man walking wouldn't still have his connections?" He laughed as he looked at James with shifty eyes.

"I see you're making new friends. Going to stab him in the back, too?"

"This is between you and me. Leave James out of this." He grit his teeth as he prepared to lunge if Markus went near his friend.

Markus didn't move. "I don't plan to involve him in this. I just need to wait for history to repeat itself. You'll stab him in the back to feed yourself, just like you've done to everyone else."

He scowled at Clouse and grit his teeth. "I'm a different man than I was then."

"Really? Were you a different man when Vaelyn kicked the buc-" He was cut off by the hilt of Chase's knife hitting him between the eyes and getting tackled by Chase. When Markus mentioned her name, he snapped like a twig. Something in him snapped and he began whaling on Markus, grabbing him by the throat and trying to punch him repeatedly.

Chase cried out in hatred at him between punches as he tried to pummel Markus. He began squeezing his neck in an attempt to choke him to death.

James jumped to action and tried pulling him off. "Chase! Stop! You can't do this! You want to be different right?!" Chase only pushed him off as he continued to suffocate Markus.

Chase...

He didn't stop. James kept trying to break through to him

Chase! Listen to me!

He was so close to taking his life. He wanted it. He craved it.

CHASE!

He took a deep breath as the voice broke through. His grip loosened.

THIS ISN'T WHO YOU WANT TO BE!

Chase snapped out of his rage and let go of Markus. He looked down in horror at the man he nearly killed a second time. Markus was coughing and heaving as he regained his breath. Chase staggered backwards, almost clawing at the ground to get away. He was panting heavily. His heart was racing.

He was in disbelief at himself. He didn't have any words.

Markus slowly sat up, catching his breath between coughing fits, and began laughing hysterically. "WOW! DON'T TELL ME YOU'VE LOST YOUR SPINE! HA HA! You've really gone soft... Can't even bring yourself to kill someone you've already killed before."

He stood up and dusted off his pants. "You've become a coward. To think that you used to be someone worth fearing. You're washed up. I almost feel sorry for you."

He pulled his hood over his head and began walking away, not bothering to look back at Chase. "I'm not done with you. I've got big plans on the horizon. Be seein' ya."

Chase let out shaky breaths as he looked at James. He saw that Chase was terrified. Not in the PTSD sense, but true terror produced from the moment. Terror at himself. James saw that he was looking at his hands, and they were trembling. "Chase... are you okay?"

James knelt down and tried to touch Chase, but he flinched and recoiled backwards. He tried again but his hand was swatted away. So, James took out a slip of paper and wrote down an address before handing it to him. "I'm buying, if you still got some fight left in you. If not, you know where home is. Take as much time as you need." He walked away with the clothes and left Chase by the bench. But he didn't leave without looking back.

After a few minutes, Chase got his hands to stop shaking. He put the slip in his pocket and walked away, still uneasy.

When James walked into the restaurant, he was hit with the smell of food. Assorted smells of berries, meats, spices, and everything else. The restaurant had the look of a 70s speakeasy, and not a cheap one. It had a symmetrical design and the hard-wood walls were traced with warm neon lights that gave the establishment a grandiose atmosphere, as if this place was where men of higher standing would go to get their fix of booze. The furniture was all of an exquisite quality and almost seemed like it was from the time period. Almost like antiques. The servers wore popular clothing of the time as well. It was most definitely a theme. He looked around to see if he could find her. It didn't take long for him to find Luna among the establishment's workforce. He sat down and waited for her to notice him. It gave him time to formulate his thoughts.

It was a few minutes before Luna noticed him and made her way over to his table. She stood over him with a menu in hand. She gave it to him and held a notepad in her other hand. "Hey James! Cool place huh?"

He lit up when she came by and he took the menu gratefully. Seeing her always made him happy. "It sure is! I love the aesthetic!"

She smiled and looked around. She knew that where James was, Chase wasn't too far behind. But she didn't see him anywhere. "Say, where's Chase? I thought you were both coming here." She still looked around, just in case that Chase was only slightly behind.

James's expression soured and he looked worried. "He fell behind. We had a run-in with someone that Chase knew. What he did..." He fell silent.

Luna turned serious and sat down across from him. It was a relief that there weren't any new tables to attend to. Otherwise she would have to cut their conversation short. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He looked her in the eyes. Concern was all she could see in him. "I'm worried about him. Not in the "he was from a war torn dictatorship that wants to purge the inferior race" sense, but something else. I don't expect him to tell me either. From what I've seen, he's not proud of it. But he nearly killed someone. Not in the heat of the moment, but with rage. It was as soon as the guy mentioned someone named Vaelyn. I don't know who she could be, but she was someone important to him. So important that using her name in vain would throw him into a bloodlust. I don't know what to do about it." He looked down and lowered his head, rattling his brain for anything that could be a solution.

Luna leaned forward and guided his head and eyes back to her with a gentle hand. "Do you think you are qualified to help him?" She asked. She knew that James liked to get ahead of himself. She took it upon herself a long time ago to make sure that he didn't trip over his own feet.

He hesitated for a moment. It was her job, and she did it well. He pondered her question and took the time to think and figure out if he actually could. He relented and had a deeply disappointed expression, his ears lowering. "No... I guess not."

The Lycanroc took his hand in hers and put her other hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm not trying to put you down. But sometimes, you need to figure out if what you're doing is helpful, or not. I'm sure you can help him, just not with this."

James cracked a slight smile in response to her reassurance. He wanted to enjoy the moment between them, but it was interrupted by a question from Luna.

"I don't mean to come off as rude, but why do you want to help chase so badly? You've only met him a couple of days ago. You don't owe him anything." She asked a bit awkwardly. It wasn't exactly an appropriate question, but it was one that she needed to ask.

His smile dimmed as he lost himself in thought once again. Luna let him think this time. He looked back up at her. "That's the thing. I feel like I do. Something about him feels familiar. Like I should recognize him from somewhere else. Is that crazy? Am I crazy?"

She gripped his hand tighter. "You're not crazy. As long as I've known you, you are of sound mind and body. But it is strange that you feel that way about him. I'm not a believer of all that "past life" mumbo jumbo but if you're in on that, then maybe there's an explanation there?"

James cocked an eyebrow at her and shook his head, a little amused by the notion. "Nah. I don't believe in that either. I must've met him a long time ago. Regardless, He needs help. He needs some kind of light in his life. A guiding light that can help him find his way."

She asked him another question. "Do you think you can be that light?"

He shook his head. "No. Not the one he needs right now. I can only hope that he finds that light soon."

Cut back to Chase, who was sitting at a bar counter in some random dive that he found. It was cheap enough without the booze being comparable to bile. He drank from amber colored bottles of cheap bear as the people around him enjoyed their time. It wasn't in his taste to be joyful at that moment. Right now, he was trying to numb himself to the world around him. The beer didn't help much. He didn't know why, but he'd have to go through multiple bottles at least just to get tipsy. There were periodic beeps from his watch but he didn't pay attention to them. He didn't want to talk to VEGA at that moment. He just wanted to be alone. He was on his fourth bottle when the bartender stopped him. A burly guy with a bushy beard. The bartender's red eyes and light skin indicated that he was albino.

"Long day huh?" The bartender asked.

"You could say that..." He drank his fourth and ordered a fifth. The bartender hesitated before giving it to him. Chase nodded his head as he bit off the cap and began downing it. He wasn't intoxicated fast enough. He was interrupted by the bartender.

"I think you should cut back on the good stuff little man." He said causally as he was drying off a freshly cleaned glass for the next patron to use.

"Cutting back isn't my thing. I'm not even tipsy yet..." He tried to finish off his fifth but he was stopped by the bartender's hand.

"Look man. I don't know what's goin' on in the head of yours, but drownin' yourself in this stuff won't fix it." He tried pulling the bottle away but Chase slammed his fist onto the counter.

"Just let me drink! It's not your job to give advice!" He tugged on the bottle and snatched it away. He was just about to down the rest of it when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Another burly man stood behind him.

"I did not just hear you disrespect Big M." The man said in a booming voice as he stood a foot taller than Chase.

"Big M? What, is he some half-piped lowlife like the rest of you?." He tried to drink it again but was shoved back before he could, hitting the counter. He looked at the man with stoicism before looking at the bottle. When he saw that the man had friends, he shrugged his shoulders and finally downed the rest of the bottle. "If I'm gonna fight, I might as well do it with a shitload of booze."

He threw the empty bottle and the man and it broke over his head, making him stagger backwards. He was tackled by Chase who became quickly overrun by the crowd surrounding him.

Walking along the sidewalk, Rose was going home after a long day at work. She took this route often so she wasn't surprised that the bar was quite lively. She wouldn't realize just how lively it was until she heard a table crash and people yelling, first in frustration, then in triumph. She was startled when the door swung open with two men carrying Chase's beaten body. They tossed him down the steps leading up to the bar and he landed hard on the sidewalk. His groans and attempts to move were the only signs that he still lived. Big M walked up to the crumpled heap and told him something before sliding a card into Chase's jacket pocket and going back inside.

Rose was just about to walk past and ignore him when she recognized him as the umbreon who helped her the other day. She gasped and knelt down beside him. "Oh my god! Chase are you okay?"

He looked up at her and groaned as he managed to sit up. He thrust his head sideways and a loud crack was heard before he answered her. "What do you think?" He tried to stand but he couldn't find the strength in his legs, and so he stumbled back.

"Whoa! Careful! After what just happened in there, I don't think you should be walking without help!" She caught him by the arm and helped him along while he limped. "You should rest. You can stay at my place while you do."

He was caught off-guard by the offer. "What? Just save your energy on something better. You owe me nothing." He tried to resist but found that the strength to do so has been lost.

She shook her head. "Actually, I do. You helped me out when those guys cornered me the other day. I never did anything to thank you for that. And besides, I'm not gonna leave you writhing on the sidewalk."

He was just about to respond in protest when he caught himself. She had a point. He couldn't really refuse after that. So, he only focused on drudging along and resting every few blocks until they made it to her apartment.

They walked inside and Chase intently observed his surroundings. While Rose didn't seem the type to set a trap, it never killed anyone to be sure. It was an unbreakable habit of his. He flopped onto the couch and exhaled slowly as the relief from the constantly intensifying soreness wore away. Rose helped him shift so that his head would be against the arm of the couch and he's be laying flat. She checked him for any injuries aside from the obvious bruising. The only ones she could find were a small cut next to his left eye and a small piece of wood in his side. He tried to protest when she went to help the cut, but again, he did not have the strength to. He winced slightly when he felt the cold and damp feeling of a wet cloth touch his cut. It stung like hell but he learned to suck it up and deal with it. After it was cleaned, Rose applied a gauze pad to keep the cut clean while it healed. After that, she pulled a bag of frozen peas and brought it to Chase for his head.

He didn't start talking until after she removed his shirt and began assessing the wound in his side. "How do you know so much about medical care?" He noticed that she had a very refined technique for cleaning and treating wounds. She didn't answer him until she was done figuring out what the wound in his side called for.

"I'm attending my second year of medical school. I'm training to be a paramedic. So, emergency treatment is kinda my thing. Lucky huh?" She went to grab the required items. She came back with bandages and more cloth to wet down, as well as antibiotics more gauze pads for good measure.

"You're not going to be anything more than that?" He asked. It was curious. Usually medical students have much higher ambitions such as becoming a doctor or a surgeon. He seldom met anyone who would stay in a low position of their own volition.

She shrugged her shoulders while cleaning the area around the puncture. "Not really. Never considered it either. Paramedics do the heavy lifting. The doctors and surgeons are still invaluable, but their work is done after the patient has been stabilized by the paramedics at the scene. I want to be in the fray. Not cooped up in some hospital, waiting for the next person to come through the door."

Her response satisfied his inquiry. He respected people who put themselves on the frontlines. There was an element of relatability to it as well, as he's lived the same way for almost as long as his memory served. His attention was grabbed when he felt a sharp pain. He looked down and saw that she was getting ready to pull the wood out of him.

She was getting ready to yank it out and get to work. "Okay. This is gonna hurt like a bitch so let's just skip the countdown." Before giving him any warning, she pulled the thin piece of wood out of him and began putting pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. Chase was suffering and was breathing heavily after a cry of pain. He usually had time to prepare for that sort of thing. It didn't take long for the bleeding to stop. Before he knew it, the wound was being bandaged. Another scar to add to the tally, and he had a lot of them.

Rose didn't notice the scars until she was done with her work. She was enthralled by the sheer number that littered his body. There were some on his chest and midsection, accentuating parts of his muscle structure and making him look tougher in a sense. She couldn't lie to herself that he was attractive that way. But she kept her mouth shut about it.

She went to wash her hands and popped the question. "So, what did you do to get a beatdown like that?"

He sat up with a bit of strain. "I disrespected Big M."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Are you serious? Did you really?"

He was firm. "Yes. Why is it such a big deal?"

"It's a big deal because he's a very good man. For most of the regulars at his bar, he's the closest thing to a therapist. And you called him names. Needless to say they would be offended." She finished washing her hands and sat down next to him. "Why were you even there? People go there if they've got something on their mind."

He slowly sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He wasn't in the best mental state and the alcohol mixed with the antibiotics was only opening him up. "...I learned some things about myself. Not good things."

She looked at him with concern for him. "Like what?"

He fell silent when she asked. He didn't want to burden her with his own emotional weight. "You don't want to know..."

She remained firm and pressed her advance. "I get it, you don't want to go back to those. But repressing them will only make things worse. You need to take the time to decompress. Drowning yourself in alcohol won't do that. It's only a temporary escape."

He tried to protest but caught himself. He knew she was right, and that any further argument would be useless. So, he relented. "I met... an old acquaintance. He wasn't happy to see me. I wasn't happy to see him. In short, things got ugly. It opened my eyes to singular truth. One that he preached before that I failed to listen to. He said that I haven't changed. That I can't change, no matter how hard I try. I doubt that he was wrong..."

Rose was silent. She couldn't find the right words to say. Hearing him say these things with such doubt in his voice, doubt in himself, and what was bordering on hopelessness made her wonder why she placed him on such a high pedestal. It made her remember that he was a living thing too, and that he had his own problems. His own trauma that he was working though. He was struggling. He was struggling very hard and even she could see that it was a loosing battle.

She found her words after a long period of silence. "You know that's not true, right? Everyone can change. If you want to change for the better then there are people who can help you do that. And even then, you still can."

He looked at her with a skeptical expression. "How can you be sure? How are you so sure that I'm not beyond the point of no return? Because he was right. I haven't changed. I'm still the same as I was before all of this."

Rose snapped her head towards him. "That can't possibly be true. I don't know what you were like before but it's obvious you're not proud of it. If you really were the same as before, then why did you go out of your way to help me?

He snapped back. "It's not that simple!" He spoke aggressively before he was intercepted by her.

"It IS that simple! you're already changing. You're just not letting yourself see it." She got off of the couch in a huff and took a deep breath, leveling herself out. She walked to the kitchen and looked in the pantry. "If we could put a pin in that, I'm hungry. And that makes me angry. Anything in mind for dinner?"

The umbreon was more than comfortable with moving to a different subject. He remembered the address that James left him and reached into his pocket for the card. "Make whatever you want. I have a friend I need to meet and explain things to." He tried getting up to walk. He succeeded in doing so but was visibly struggling to maintain it. He was met almost immediately by Rose putting him back on the couch.

"Oh no you don't! You're not in the condition to be walking like that. Not yet."

"But I can't stay here for the night. He'd go berserk."

"Too bad. You need to at least sleep it off before doing anything physical. Your body needs time to rest. And even though you are abnormally resilient, your body still has limits."

He sighed and flopped back onto the couch. "...got anything sweet?"

"I have some Pop Tarts, if those count."

"What flavor?"

"Cherri Berry."

"..."

"Pop Tarts will work."