Dear Cheren,

How is Kanto? I regret not being there with you, but I came to Unova to discover my identity. So far, the journey has been entirely fruitless. My efforts have summed up to nothing, but my spirit is more difficult to take down. I will not leave until my identity is confirmed, and I know that for certain.

However, I suppose you have heard from Yellow how my leg was cut by a Kanto soldier in the ambush. Thank every lord in the sky that it was not fatal, but that invasion just a few days ago truly frightened me. I thought I might die. For now, though, I am healing astonishingly.

I know that it is not polite to discuss politics, especially in this day and age where one wrong word could set the world firing at one another, but I must say something. I am loyal to the monarchies of Kanto and Johto. I have been all my life, and I have but a faint connection to Unova. Kanto has been my home for most of my time. Despite this loyalty, I do not agree with the king's recent decisions. It is wrong to hurt innocent people, but now it feels personal. I am a citizen of Kanto and I was hurt by my kingdom's actions.

I do not know what to think. Maybe we should all just run away to Hoenn.

I do not expect a reply. I know you think I am just silly and full of nonsense. I quite suppose I am.

Though I do hope my rascal brothers have been courteous since your arrival. They may be older than us, but they surely do not act it, those haughty buffoons. And on a lighter note, the holidays will be here soon! I do hope I can be back in Kanto in time to celebrate with everyone!

Clumsily Yours,

Belle

Dear Belle,

I'm extremely glad you're alive and well enough to send out a letter. Your spirits clearly have not been dampened. But we've all been given a scare over here as far as your condition goes. We're happy to receive your letters and the good news of your steady recovery. Please send word if anything is wrong.

The very air seems tense in Kanto following the invasion. Some people seem not to know about it, though, and others do not wish to think of it. Maybe it's the approaching winter looming above us, threatening to blow snow at us at any time, but Kanto seems to have a particular chill right now. I cannot tell what anyone is planning anymore.

But I do know this much: security is becoming stricter. I'm sure you've heard about the restrictions about travel and correspondence between the allied monarchies and their democratic antagonists. I implore you to heed my warning; though it is your own opinion, I would advise you not to discuss politics in these letters, should they be searched. You could be in even graver danger than you are now.

I wish you the best of luck in your search. You are not silly for trying to find who you are. You are not troublesome just because you run into trouble. But I'll be glad to see you back home, safe and sound, in Kanto during the holidays.

Ever yours,

Cheren

When White ended her shift the sun was dipping below the horizon, leaving a dripping sunset in its wake. Colours slipped into one another and stained the whispering clouds as they rolled past.

The night flew on her coattails as she rushed through the winding streets, a symphony of winds swirling behind her like hundreds of violins. One of Black's more reasonable, but no less eccentric, cousins—a girl called Whitney—let her into the manor that was his residence. White thought it was lucky at all, what with it being the home of the president and his family, but Whitney knew that White was only Black's friend and thought her to be no harm. And of course, the adopted children of Drayden Harmonia were trusted without a shadow of a doubt.

But when Whitney brought White to Black's quarters, they were surprised to discover that he was not there. "That's funny," the girl remarked, running a hand through her pink locks. "I could have sworn that I saw him in here."

Whitney was kind enough to offer to help find him, but White knew she probably had other things on her mind. "I'll stumble upon him somewhere," she said.

But White did not realize how quickly things had escalated since Black's father became the president. Security had thickened and staff seemed more urgent in their shuffling about. Thankfully, though security rolled their eyes over her as she passed, she was not very suspecting. And if she had been let in, there must have been a reason for it.

The next place White tried looking for Black was the library. She skirted between shelves and tables, but she had a feeling that he would not be found in such a place. The manor's library did not have the same pleasant, halcyon aura of the city library; here the light filtering from courtyard-facing window was slight and shadowed by the rest of the tall building. The selection of books was varied, but not extensive. Attendants did not seem to smile or enjoy their job. The place was just overall creepy.

But the library was not all one room. She could see it branching off into a few short halls and rooms, all interlocking. White peaked down each to see if Black was there.

Perhaps that was her mistake.

She passed one door and nearly pushed it open farther, but she stopped short when she heard gruff voices from inside.

"They think they're invincible, do they?" The president punctuated his question with a curse. "I'll teach them a lesson, in due time. Soon, we will have the world at our fingertips."

"Indeed," replied the voice of Drayden Harmonia. White had heard it countless times, always paired with political announcements. "And my children will take care of the little complications. Such as the prince."

White's heart jumped into her throat. She could hear blood rushing in her ears and her pulse hammering. She shook away the fear that someone else might hear it too and listened on, daring to step closer to the door.

"The prince?" President Harmonia sputtered. "I thought he was already dead."

"Unfortunately, no." Drayden Harmonia paused. "I gave the job to Poppy and she has not done it yet. She's been planning, I do know this, along with N, but she hasn't quite done it yet. I warned her recently to get it done. She seems more determined. Or resigned."

"Well, then it better be done quickly."

They began to say more, as they approached the door. White could hear their shifting chairs, their footsteps, their strengthening voices. She ran to a bookshelf—taking the things she was not supposed to know with her, tucking them under her arm—and slipped behind it just in the nick of time. The door swung open and the two men began striding away in the opposite direction, out of the library, to White's relief. Once her pulse slowed, she continued on and nearly rammed head-on into Black a few shelves over. Together, they left the manor.

But though the president had not known there was a spy in his home, Drayden Harmonia had seen the girl just as she had leapt behind the shelves, her ponytail bobbing.

And he knew just how to silence her.

It would all come in due time.

When Black, White, and Wally entered Belle's hospital room, she was sitting up and playing a single-person card game. The first time they had been let into her room—late on the night of the attack—Belle was bruised, bleeding out, and unconscious. They'd visited a few times after, glad she was alive and patient with her inability to walk yet.

White relayed what she had heard in hushed tones over a card game.

"I was looking for you, Black," she began explaining, "and I didn't mean to eavesdrop…"

"Seems like it's a good thing you did," Black replied. "You're pale as a ghost. It must be important." He turned to Wally and asked, "Do you have any kings?"

"Go hunting," Wally responded. "Belle, do you have any threes?"

"Go hunting," she answered happily. "White, do you have a five to spare?"

White forked over two five-cards. "But I heard your father and your uncle talking, Black. They were…"

"They were discussing their hatred for the allied monarchies and plotting their downfall?" Black finished when she trailed off. Belle was interrogating Wally about queen cards in the background.

"They were talking about having the former prince of Unova killed." All joyful playing and chattering halted. Even the whistling wind outside held its breath. Upon seeing Black's froze, wide-eyed expression, White reached over for his hand. "Black…I'm sorry. Poppy is their assassin."

"But she can't be," he said instantly, snapping from his shock.

"And even if she is," Belle interjected, "we can just stop her."

All of them turned to her. Guilt, awareness, and regret rippled through their faces, while her expression was etched with confusion. This confusion was almost a physical thing in the room, standing over her, cursing them all, whispering, Belle doesn't know. And this was true.

It was Wally that at last spoke to her. "Belle, I'm afraid you've gotten involved with three quite tricky people. You wouldn't believe the things we can hide; the mischief that we have cloaked. If you think you're troublesome, you've just met your matches."

"What?" Now Belle was rather panicked. "What is it that you've all kept from me?"

White clasped her hands. "Well it's not just as simple as stopping Poppy. We also must protect the former prince of Unova, who is, in fact, very much alive, unlike the rest of his family."

Belle raised her eyebrows. "You know the prince?"

"He's in this room," Black added hesitantly. He had tried to stick a toe in the hot water, and ended up splashing in face first. Poor Belle sat straight, horror in her eyes.

Wally sighed. "The prince. Right. That would be me."

When Black returned home that evening, he found his father speaking, a scribe eating up his every word, copying it at great speed. It was the president's address in response to the attack on his nation. As Black heard it, all he could think was this: he is making us the willing victims. We are the martyr republic.

When White returned home that evening, it was to a scene quite different than Black's. It was to her aunt sitting in an armchair, her back to the young girl. It was a moment where White knew instantly that something was wrong. It was as if the very air that she breathed was off. Her aunt asked a single question.

"You've been with that boy still, haven't you?"

White's insides burned. She felt like a traitor. A fifteen-year-old girl should not have had to have so many things to worry about. She answered quietly, "Yes."

Her aunt said nothing. She rushed to her room.

Deleted:

(Wally sighed. "The prince. Right. That would be me."

After a moment, he cleared his throat, breaking the stunned silence. "So, um...do you have any kings, Black?"

"DAMN YOU!" Black shouted and chucked three cards at the smiling boy.)

A/N: Hey, all!
I'll admit it...I finished writing this before I posted it...

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokespe or anything else.