AN: Well. This took a hell of a time to write, and I still don't know what I'm doing. The end is near, though. Crazy. I never thought it'd come.

Anyway, hopefully my two (or is it back to one...?) readers will enjoy it.

"So… computer storage, huh?"

Kevin was staring at the starry sky leaning once again on the white picket fence, eyeing all the constellations. He couldn't remember the names of all the ones he could see, but he knew a few, the Gardevoir one he had previously stared at several nights ago being the most prominent one. He was pretty sure the one with the Machoke was up there too, though, and that soured his observations a bit.

His father was outside with him, doing the same thing. For the past couple of hours, they'd been catching up with each other. Cory told his son a bit about his work as a researcher of Pokémon behaviour, which hadn't been paying as well ever since his pill had become widespread. And now Kevin was telling Cory all about being missing for ten years.

"Yep," said Kevin, not really knowing how to elaborate. There wasn't much to say about his time in storage, seeing as he didn't remember anything but blackness.

Cory smirked. "Figures you'd have the horrid luck to wind up inside a glitchy Pokéball. I was sure they sent out a recall once Bill figured out something was up, though…"

"They did. Whoever caught me just didn't remember… or care," Kevin said. Whoever caught him… Even now, Kevin didn't know the identity of the person who had done a great part in messing up the lives of everyone he knew.

"Mm…" Cory muttered. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Kevin. I can't imagine how much pain that's put you through, especially combined with all the standard fare of being a Holly."

Kevin frowned, slumping casually. "What exactly would you call standard fare?"

His father shrugged. "People staring at you, noticing there's something wrong. Heck, even in a human's body I get it all the time," he said, seemingly reminiscing about something.

"That so?' asked Kevin. Chikoro had mentioned something about his father giving him an apprehensive feeling, right? Maybe that's what he meant.

"Oh yeah. Day one at the lab, I filled up a food bowl for a Zangoose. It took him two seconds to figure out I wasn't a real human," Cory chuckled. "And I got some flak about the family picture I have on my desk, this one time. That one was a little hard to get out of."

"Family picture?"

"Oh, you probably don't remember it. We took one right after Kyle was born. It was one of the last photos we got before the camera finally broke," Cory mused. He frowned. "Times were a lot better back then, huh?"

That was an understatement. Kevin nodded in agreement, not really coming up with anything to say. Which was odd, seeing as it was the first time in years he had seen his dad and there should have been plenty of things to elaborate on, even with the enormous conversation they'd had. It was kind of bothering him. A lot.

"So," his dad said, breaking the silence. "That Kari girl. What's going on with her, anyway?"

Kevin felt a sudden, sinking feeling for no real reason. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she and Kyle seem to have quite the history, from my observations," said Cory.

Kevin nodded. "…Yeah. They— Today is the first time they've seen each other in a really long time. And, uh, they've got a lot of unresolved stuff they need to figure out at some point, I guess. And I don't think your visit simplified any of that." He didn't know if he were the right person to describe Kyle and Kari's past. His guess was leaning towards no.

"I can understand that. I've always been the one to complicate things," Cory said with a laugh. "From the minute I was born, that's all I've been. A complication."

"Really?" asked Kevin, giving his father a side glance. "Somehow I doubt mom would agree with you, there."

Cory smiled. "No, but her relatives certainly would. And nearly everyone else in the world. It's just part of who I am, really. I've learned to accept it."

Kevin watched the vast whiteness of snow-covered fields in front of him. They were unmoving, their emptiness consuming the tiny town for miles to come. It was strangely captivating.

Cory went on, seemingly talking to himself as much as he was talking to Kevin. "I guess there's something about living life pessimistically that somehow makes my life better, if that makes any sense. Living without high expectations gives you a pretty good feeling when things actually end up working in your favour. I mean, I went a long time thinking I'd never get married… and then your mother convinced me otherwise. I think I've had a pretty decent life, all things considered."

Something in the emptiness bothered him. Without anything else to vary it, it was just that, empty.

"Of course, I have my regrets, we all do. Leaving you was the worst and hardest thing I ever had to do. I'm sorry… Really…"

It was kind of like a Pokéball, only inverted. The same neutral, empty feeling. He wondered how different it would have been to be imprisoned in a white vacuum instead.

"Um, sorry. I didn't mean to get worked up about that. I suppose I can't help it."

And then, something clicked. In an instant, Kevin knew exactly what he had to do.

"Dad," he said, still looking at the snow, "that Master Ball. Where'd you get it?"

Cory was startled at the abrupt subject change. "Er, it's for work. Why?"

"I need to borrow it," Kevin said, turning to his father. He tried to look as confident as possible; though in truth, Kevin doubted his spur of the moment idea would get him anywhere. But it was the only thing he could do.

Cory frowned. "Borrow it? What do you need it for?" Kevin couldn't answer that. Not yet, anyway.

"Just trust me, okay? I won't use it, and I'll give it back really soon. Please?" He wondered if the word would help him at all.

The scientist seemed flustered, but he gave in. "All right. Don't break it, or damage it, or anything, okay? These things are expensive."

He reached for his briefcase at his feet, balancing it in front of him on the fence. Entering the combination, the case popped open, allowing him to reach in and hand the Master Ball to Kevin.

"Thanks," Kevin said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit."

And Kevin hopped over the fence, heading past the expanse of snow towards the evergreen trees in the horizon.

Chuno was angry.

He had done a number to several of the trees surrounding him in the sparse, wintry woods, probably due to frustration. Around him lay scores of electrocuted branches, as well as strips of burnt bark and pine needles. In fact, it was probably more accurate to say he was the most furious he'd ever been in his life.

The Naturalist panted, his tail swishing around in a sporadic frenzy. It appeared that it was all he could do to stop himself from doing any more damage to the environment. Kevin just hoped he wouldn't be skewered before he got the chance to do anything. He took a breath.

"Hey," he said, stepping out gingerly from behind the confines of a few ruined trees.

The Raichu jolted, his tail instinctively shoving itself into the ground. Getting rid of excess electricity, probably. Otherwise, a shock would probably hurt Chuno as much as it did Kevin.

Chuno turned, the brim of his hat low on his face. "Boy. What are you doing here?"

Kevin gave him a steady glare. "I want to talk."

The Raichu sighed heavily. "I don't."

Right. He'd expected that. Kevin pressed the button on the Master Ball in his hand, enlarging it. He then tossed it from side to side in his palms, trying to keep Chuno's attention. "Well, unfortunately for you, you have to. Otherwise, I'll use this."

Chuno raised an eyebrow before giving a dark laugh. "Ooh, a threat. Et tu? Well, I suppose I have no choice, then." He licked his teeth and turned his body fully towards Kevin.

Kevin took another breath, stopping the ball. Well, this was it. "'It was a time when there existed no differences to distinguish the two.'" This wasn't going to work…

"Are you serious, boy? If you're just going to reiterate what your brother said, then I—"

"No, listen," said Kevin hastily, fearing he'd already screwed up beyond repair. "I have a different take on it. I think you might find it interesting."

Chuno stopped talking and looked at Kevin expectantly.

"I think… I think it's not as clear-cut as Kyle thinks it is. I think it's more like— like Pokémon and humans are just as flawed as each other, in their own ways. And they don't necessarily have to like each other, or respect each other at all."

The Raichu looked unimpressed.

"But, of course, that doesn't mean they should be completely separated… or completely integrated into one society. But how it is now has got to change."

Kevin hardly had a plan any more. He was just talking, saying things before they'd even registered in his mind.

"I don't really know how or in what way it should change yet, I'm still working that out. But as I was thinking that, I thought of something my dad said, and it made me realize… There must be someone. Someone you've spent the last few years of your life fighting for, to let them live in the world you feel is best for them. I don't know if that someone is you, or if you care about someone else enough for you to do that, but… that's what I think."

He wasn't even registering his surroundings any more. It was just Kevin and what he had to say.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I get it. You started the Naturalists because you thought Kyle might actually ruin the world you want, or something like that, I guess. So… while everything you've done to Kyle is kind of extreme, it's justified, sort of. And Kari gave him the idea, so I can see why you're angry with her, too.

"I… I have a request. If it's not too much… Leave them alone. You don't have to agree with them, and you don't even have to be polite or anything. But… I don't know. I don't want to see either of them with more scars than they already have. So… yeah. That's what I came here to say."

He had done that in the worst possible way, he knew it. Pleading with a merciless foe? How stupid could he be? Kevin sighed. Awful. Just awful.

Chuno had straightened his stance slightly, enough so that his eyes were almost level with Kevin's. His mouth curled into a small smile, exposing his large teeth. "Boy… you really are an idiot, you know that?"

Kevin frowned. "Yeah… that was stupid."

"You come to me, threatening me with a fate I consider worse than death. Then you tell me I don't have to respect you. And then, you make a request that I obviously don't have to follow, seeing as I have no reason to do anything you ask of me. Do you ever plan out what you're saying?" Chuno grinned, lifting his hat.

Kevin said nothing. What the hell had he been thinking? He thought he'd learned that spur of the moment ideas never worked for him, ever. Kari had said as much, he was sure of it.

"However… just because I don't have to respect you doesn't mean I won't."

Kevin's head snapped up, looking to the Raichu with confusion.

Chuno stopped grinning, his expression very serious. "That's right, boy. Believe it or not, I actually do respect you, along with your beliefs. What I don't respect is your brother's approach to the idea," He shook his head. "Because despite everything he says, he has not convinced me that his idea of a perfect world would be better for me, or my family, or Pokémon as a whole. And you're right, in a sense. I'm taking action against all of you because I believe what he is doing may work out in his favour."

Kevin blinked. "So…"

"I will follow through with your request so long as you abide by certain conditions. Is that clear?" The Raichu's eyes darkened.

"Y-yes," said Kevin. "Name them."

Chuno nodded. He adjusted his hat. "One. You must never join The Shades or affiliate with them in any way, by your own volition or if you are asked."

Kevin nodded, though he wasn't all too happy with it. He supposed it wasn't such a big loss, though.

"Two," Chuno said, "you must never start a group of your own touting the beliefs you have just explained to me. That is very important."

All right, that was fine too. Kevin nodded again.

"Finally, you must grant me one last visit with your brother before I adopt your promise," he said. "If that visit results in harm in any way, you cannot hold that against me. Do you understand?"

Kevin frowned. "What about Kari?"

"You cannot hold any harm that may or may not happen to them against me," he repeated.

That… he didn't like.

Chuckling, the Raichu said, "You do realize that if you don't agree to my conditions, the deal is off, and I'm free to harm them whenever I please, right? I won't accept unless you allow me one last chance to do whatever I want, however I want to do it. So, how about it?"

Kevin narrowed his eyes. Chuno was manipulating him… he knew that much. Sure, only one attempted murder sounded a lot better than an indefinite number, but at the same time, it would still be an attempted murder. Probably. Chuno hadn't explicitly said he was going to do anything that bad, but Kevin figured the implications were clear as day.

Chuno grinned. "Well then. That settles it. I strike at midnight. Until then, farewell!"

Kevin's mouth hung open. "Wha— hey! I didn't say anything yet!"

"But you only have one choice, do you not?" Chuno asked, his voice finding its tone of amusement once more. "Were you really considering the other option?"

Faced with defeat, Kevin sighed. "Fine. One last time. After that, no more. And that's final, okay?"

Chuno nodded, tipped his hat, and spun around. "It's a done deal! See you at midnight!"

Kevin watched the Raichu walk further into the snowy forest, leaving footprints in his wake. Just before he'd rounded a corner, however, Chuno turned his head back and said, "My daughter."

Kevin blinked.

"I'm doing this all for my daughter."

And he was gone.

When Kevin returned, he handed the Master Ball back to his father, no questions asked. He then proceeded to Lana's backyard, hoping to speak to Kari about something. He didn't really care what about, he just wanted her company, or something like that. He didn't know, he felt kind of weird.

He found her, lying in the snow that glittered slightly from the light of the sky. She looked like she had been through hell today, which was probably true. She had her own problems to deal with; she didn't need any of theirs to deal with, too.

She greeted him wordlessly by giving him a slight nod, but it was obvious she was tired. He sat next to her, ignoring the temperature of the ground below.

"How are you?" he asked her, almost immediately regretting it. He could see how she felt.

Kari gazed at the back door of the house, her eyes half closed. "Could be better. The Pokérus is kind of being annoying, but otherwise, I guess I'm all right."

Kevin frowned. "Um… okay."

The Torterra scoffed, giving Kevin a casual glance. "All right. What's wrong with you?"

"What?" Kevin said, glaring. "What makes you think there's something wrong with me?"

"You've never had a good poker face," Kari answered.

Kevin looked at her blankly. Once again, he'd been defeated. He wondered if he was going to win a verbal battle at some point, ever. Maybe he could still pull out of it…? "Well, what if I don't want to talk about it?"

"If you didn't want to talk about it, you wouldn't have come here and sat down beside me. So, what is it, Kevin?"

Damn. "Sometimes I think you know me better than I do myself."

"That or you're being as predictable as ever," Kari scoffed again. "I can't count the number of times you've acted like this since we met. So spill, all right?"

Kevin grimaced. "You're not going to like it," he said.

Kari breathed heavily. "And why not?"

"Because I did something stupid again, Kyle's going to kill me for it, and you probably will too," he said. He was suddenly feeling even stupider than usual.

"What could you have possibly done that would be that bad, Kevin?" she asked, more curious than anything. She probably thought that anything he could have done wouldn't be serious at all, and he'd just… oh, offended Chikoro or something harmless like that. He didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care. Nothing like that had happened, anyway.

He gulped down a bit of air. "I made a deal with Chuno so that he gets one last chance to murder everybody, and then after that, no more." Hoo boy.

Kari groaned. "And why the hell did you do that?"

"I-I don't know! I just kind of did, somehow, and you know, I don't think it's so bad—" He was cut short.

"It's a horrible deal! We have no idea what he's capable of! How can we even trust him to uphold this deal in the first place? Dear," The Torterra had a look of disappointment that made Kevin feel very, very sour.

"He… seemed sincere when he said he'd do it," Kevin muttered. "I know, I know, we can't trust him at all. He's probably just manipulating me like usual, and I'm probably just being an optimistic idiot about everything. But I made a deal, so we're just going to have to handle whatever consequences come of it, okay? I'm sorry."

Kari was about to say something, but he continued.

"I just wanted to do something to help. Everyone's miserable and Chuno is a pretty major reason why, so I figured if I could at least get him out of the picture we'd all be a bit better off, or something, I don't really know what I'm doing nowadays. All I know is that I want this to end so I can go home and forget there's anything wrong with me. And I…"

He growled in frustration. "I don't know! I'm no good at figuring out what I'm trying to say! I usually just say it, and then other people tell me what I meant, and then I realize everything or whatever! And even then, sometimes I don't get it, and it takes me forever to understand exactly what I feel, and I hate that, and I just… I want to… want to…"

He stared at her, watching every move her eyes made. "I don't even know what the hell I want. I guess I thought I'd find out at some point, but even now, I still don't know." Damn it. He'd never felt such a horrible rush of emotion like this. Was this how she…?

Kari's head suddenly found its way into his shoulder; the most comforting gesture she could manage in her form, he supposed. He felt her tears soaking him, though he didn't know why, he was the one who was upset. He found himself petting her head again, less awkwardly this time, though still feeling out of place, if only a little. It was like the day before Iron Island all over again.

He heard her whisper, in a tiny voice that wasn't like her at all. "I wish I had met you at the lab instead."

Oh, right.

That was what he wanted. He just wanted to hear her say those words.

If only they weren't so painful.

…Ha. If only.

They'd be a hell of a lot happier if "what ifs" came true.