Hello! I'm back with an update! I know that I'm using Japanese names and honorifics, but they just sound so much cooler to me. With pokemon, though, I'm not so sure. It would be easier for me to use their English equivalents but like I said earlier, Japanese sounds so much cooler. Decisions, decisions.

If you've actually stayed with me, have a virtual cookie. Gives all of you faithful fellows virtual cookies.

Disclaimer: He doesn't own pokemon ever. Ever. EVER.

Takahiro stared at the beige wall as Akiyama studied his legs. "Right, we should also make sure that your leg is waterproof in case of rain."

"Akiyama-sensei, is this really the only requirement?" Takahiro questioned.

"I'm not a cruel person," Akiyama said. "This is for everyone's good."

"Everyone's?"

"How would we doctors feel if you got hurt because we didn't alter your leg?"

"Well, I just thought that you would limit me," Takahiro sighed. "Like staying only in this region, or no pokemon over two feet."

"Two feet?" Akiyama looked at Takahiro straight in the eye. "Do you know how hard it would be for you to catch pokemon under two feet? I would never do that!"

"I know, but-"

"Takahiro-kun," Akiyama smiled, "I know how you think of us. But even though we are doctors, doesn't mean we take away your fun."

Takahiro pulled at his sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, there's no need to apologize," Akiyama said as he continued to study Takahiro's legs. "Oh, since you'll be walking around a lot, that means the metal will wear out quickly. I should probably teach you how to fix your leg."

"What?" Takahiro asked, almost falling off the chair. "No way, I can't do that."

"Why not? It'll be fine. It's not like the leg will malfunction like the first time we put it on you."

"Yes, it will," Takahiro said. "I'm horrible at managing my leg."

"Well, we could always use plastic-"

"Anything but plastic. That stuff is annoying." Takahiro made a disgusted face. "Every time you take a step it makes a squeaking sound."

"I would prefer plastic sounds over metal sounds, though," Akiyama commented.

"That's just you," Takahiro mumbled.

"Would you like a completely different leg or should I take your leg off?" Akiyama asked to shift the subject.

"Different leg," Takahiro answered.

"It'll be done in an hour. Come back to your room once it's finished."

Takahiro nodded.

"How will your new leg look?" Miyu asked ecstatically, her hands waving around. "Will it have rocket boosters? Guns? Ice cream machines?"

"Why would it have an ice cream machine?" Takahiro asked, staring at a piece of paper.

"You never know when you might need one." Koichi nodded in agreement with Miyu as Takahiro threw the paper away in anger.

"I don't need an ice cream machine." Takahiro raised an eyebrow and reached for another piece of paper.

"When will it be ready?" Haru asked.

"Dinner, probably," Takahiro answered, transfixed on his drawing.

"Um, Onii-san," Arata queried, "once you get your leg, will you immediately leave?" That line silenced the whole room. "Um," Arata stammered, "I- I'm sorry . . . for saying that. . . ."

"You don't have to be sorry, Arata-kun," Koichi reassured with a smile.

"Won't . . ." Miyu started, "won't it be lonelier without Taka-nii-san . . . ?"

"It won't be that lonely," Takahiro reassured them. "After all, I don't really do much here."

The others looked hurt by those words.

"That's not true," a teenage girl—Aiko—said. She fiddled with the ends of her red hair. Her hands dropped. "You've been a great friend here."

Takahiro looked up and tried to smile. All he could muster was a straight line. Everyone here besides Takahiro had no chance to go out and travel. Many of them, including Arata and Miyu, could not even walk without assistance. "I'm sorry."

"Takahiro-kun!" Akiyama called out. He held something wrapped in a brown towel. "It's ready!"

Takahiro turned around on his seat and looked at Akiyama. Behind Akiyama were some other doctors and Takahiro's mother. All of them were smiling or grinning.

Haru, Koichi, Aiko, Miyu and Arata were not smiling. They had just remembered what they were talking about earlier in Arata's room. Takahiro did not feel like smiling, but he forced a small smile for Akiyama and the other adults.

"Really?" Takahiro asked.

Akiyama's grin grew wider. He dropped the wrapped item in Takahiro's hands. "Put it on yourself."

"What?!" Takahiro asked in shock. "I can't do that myself. . . . I can't . . ."

"Look, Takahiro-kun," Akiyama said with a grave voice, "this is the test. If you can't prove to these people that you can take care of your leg, you go back to being stuck in this hospital. Do you want to chicken out or go outside?"

Akiyama did not know that what he said struck a nerve for all of the children present. Takahiro was afraid of his leg malfunctioning, and if he did not properly put his leg on, he would end up staying at the hospital. If he did, he could go anywhere. It was the typical bird in the birdcage scenario.

Takahiro lay the wrapped leg on a table near an open window. The sun shone through and speckled the room with light. A doctor placed tools for administrating the leg on the table. He flashed Takahiro a grin. Takahiro could feel all of their eyes pecking a hole into his head. He gulped. He wanted to get out. He wanted to stay. But most of all, he wanted a miracle.

Takahiro started to unfold the brown towel. With every second, he remembered a memory. He remembered the lightning. He remembered the fire. He remembered the scars and the burns. He remembered the loud screams coming from his own mouth. He remembered the adults yelling for a savior. He remembered the parents ushering their children away from the deadly fire. He remembered the men who carried the weak and injured body away from the falling beams and hot tongues of the flames.

He remembered the first time he saw Akiyama's gentle face. He remembered the first time he saw Koichi's uplifting smile. He remembered the first time hearing Haru's charming laugh. He remembered the first time Aiko cared for him like he was her little brother. He remembered the first time Miyu bothered him with questions that reminded him of the scars or entertained him. He remembered the first time Arata said good morning and hello.

He remembered the games he would play with everyone after lunch and dinner. He remembered smiling as he tried counting the stars with Miyu and Haru. He remembered the stories Aiko made up from the top of her head to entertain Arata and Miyu. He remembered the snacks and treats Koichi would bring from his home. He remembered Akiyama giving him his first leg. . . .

But he also remembered the flashbacks. He also remembered his hope. He also remembered listing all the pokemon he would catch when he was five years old. He also remembered the grass and the sounds of older kids calling out to their pokemon. He also remembered his dreams. He also remembered the beaches with shells and sand. He also remembered horizons and sunrises. He also remembered the trees he used to climb every day. He remembered his determination, dying more and more as each day passed.

The metal leg shone in the speckles of the sunset's pink and orange light. Takahiro held the lost fold in his left hand with hesitation. He dropped the fold and the whole leg was revealed. It was sleek and waterproofed as Akiyama said he would adjust the new leg. It was also made of a special metal that did not rust easily. Takahiro touched it. His ears heard the pounding of his heart increase.

His hands moved to the tools. As soon as his hands left the leg and moved onto the tools, a black and blue blur moved into the room and out. When the blur disappeared, everyone's eyes turned to the leg. Like their predictions, the leg was gone.

The doctors sweatdropped. The children deadpanned. Takahiro stood with the same expression on his face. Five seconds passed. Akiyama opened his mouth to say something.

Takahiro: *Jumps onto table and dashes out window*

"TAKAHIRO!" everyone screamed, horrified expressions plastered on their faces (and I swear Haru looked like that one Edvard Munch painting).

"Where is that pint-sized idiot going?!" Koichi screamed.

Miyu wheeled herself over to the window and Akiyama ran over as well. "I can't see him!" Akiyama yelled.

"What?!" Takahiro's mother screamed.

"How fast does he even run?" Haru asked.

"Don't ask questions that are meant to stay unanswered," Arata said.

"Takahiro!" Akiyama called out. "Come back! You might get hurt!"

Takahiro whirled his head in different directions. He had to find the leg or . . .

Or? Takahiro stopped to think. Wouldn't it be better if it stayed lost? Why are you trying to look for something that is currently stressing you out? The truth seemed to seep into view. Takahiro knew why he was so worried about it. He wanted to leave.

Takahiro wanted to travel.

I'm still wondering if I should use the Japanese equivalents of the pokemon... Do you have any opinions?

And so, Takahiro now has to find the thief and his leg. Who is the thief? What does he want? Hopefully, he'll find the answers. I hope you enjoyed the read! :)

Next time: "Dark Pasts"