(2)

Despising darkness

Mocking light

Trapped in stormy twilight

Like a ghost, I wandered. I never wanted to stay in one place for long. An itch would take me, and I would be swept off with the next wind if I was sober enough to sweep. Often I only was sober because I did not get the money for sake or anything else to quench my thirst. From Kanto I moved into Johto. I went as far north as the Northern Region, and I somehow found myself in Sinnoh and still don't know how I managed it. I spent some time in Unova until I grew tired of the noise, the high fashion, the high tech lights and flashing. I went to Hoenn, quite sober then. I even had a mind to stay sober for a while, I think, but I had to question my sobriety when I saw the quaint scene in the mountain pass.

They say the world is small, but I had never in a million years expected to see Kojiro and Musashi. I had pretty much forgotten they existed, but I knew it to be no others. Maybe I had some sixth sense that came over from the shadow process after all, but whatever the reason, I felt it was those lousy X-agents before I drew close enough to get a good look, and when I did anyone who had met them could have recognized them, except maybe that kid they had stalked and his friends who fell for their lamest disguises. They looked older, calmer, and their hair and clothes were fit to appear almost normal, but they still had a look of eccentricity about them. Then again, I don't think anyone who has worked for Team Rocket for a long period of time can help being at least a little bit eccentric.

Crouching through the brush I crept closer and glared out onto the sunlit hill. The grass blew and the trees gently rocked and swayed, and there they sat. The shrieks of children barely reached my ears as anything more than an echo; the sound of the shrieks of a cat unwilling to play I only just perceived enough to think in disgust of that idiotic nyaasu. As for how many children those two maniacs had in their procession I cared not to know, but my eyes were drawn almost solely on Musashi and Kojiro themselves. The colors of their hair gave them away the most. Musashi's hair was short now, and Kojiro's had lost its teenaged band look, but their colors proved as bright as ever in fruity red and a sort of pastel purplish blue.

As Musashi collapsed into Kojiro's side like she meant to knock him over where they say on their picnic blanket, I noticed that she held something delicate in her lap, and Kojiro and she gazed as though hypnotized upon it. It was another child, I soon saw. An infant. Judging by the blue he wore, a little male infant.

For a moment, I'm not sure why, but I hated that infant.

How many of those things are they intending on breeding? I thought grudgingly.

An image of Yamato flicked in the back of my mind. An annoying flashback of some other time and place when I was happy and stupid and working for Team Rocket like a faithful paper boy tossing papers to the correct doors …

With an atmospheric grace, Kosaburo slipped into the café and was happy to be out of the rain. He released his hold from the collar of his trench coat, which he had been using in an attempt to shield himself from the weather. Now he glanced across the little space to the far corner where Yamato already held a cup of coffee at a small table for two.

They had met here to wait for Namba's call. As the preferred, they waited in stylish atmosphere, and they waited with patience and nonchalant poise.

There was a time when Kosaburo was very young and had not yet had goals for Team Rocket that he had wanted to be an actor. He had once managed to snag the part of the Fox in the shogakko production of Pinocchio. Little had he known at the time, how many times afterwards he would play that same Fox and even with the little female Cat a constant partner at his side.

Not that Kosaburo had a mind on school plays at the moment, however much he still enjoyed any chance he had to act, and he played his parts well. If he played the part of a wise old man, you believed he was a wise old man. When given the part of a happy, stupid counter clerk, you had no doubt in your mind he was just as innocent a fool as he pretended to be. He and Yamato both often played the part of a romantic couple. Their acting was so good in fact that Kosaburo more than once received a wink from a waiter or another such person as if to say Kosaburo had himself a good catch in such a pretty, dainty creature as Yamato.

This more often than not would make him chuckle inwardly, but for a fleeting moment as he looked at Yamato now, he almost fell for her façade himself, and had a strange thought pass through his mind, What if we had a relationship that was more than just an act for professional gain?

Glancing over her sunglasses, Yamato turned to him and woke him from such idle thought.

He shrugged all such distraction aside and slipped into the chair across from Yamato. Having ordered himself some coffee and toast, his mind took up entirely the mission and his act and nothing more in his usual professional manner …

I turned away, and had a strong desire for something to drink as I made my way back into the town from which I had come. I had no desire to stay and watch my old rivals in their Disney-esque happily ever after any longer. What were Musashi and Kojiro and their stupidity to me? I felt nothing but revulsion for them.

With what little money I had left I bought enough drink to get decently drunk. Fortunately, my troubles soon left me; unfortunately, I decided to go for a walk. Right back up into the mountains and even clear headed this was not a safe climb. In the greying evening rocks do become tricky with a mind unable to focus. Steep cliffs do in the best of us under influence. That my head did not crack open had to be divine influence in itself. Need I explain further?

#

After dinner was Kojiro's time for repose of mind. Everyone needs that. No matter how much one loves one's family, one has to escape to oneself now and again, and this time Kojiro chose. His old, faithful Gar-Chan would usually come along, and sometimes Fuuyuki, who was the most thoughtful by nature of the three boys and liked the solitude of being with his father on these walks (his thoughtful nature proved by far much more reposed than Kojiro's ever was), and Kojiro certainly did not mind.

Today however, Musashi had not wanted even Kojiro to go, for the clouds looked dangerous, and rain seemed liable to fall, and in this mountain pass, a little rain could do more than get one wet. In places the water would gush forth like a river and knock one clear to town, and that is exactly what Musashi said.

When it had been discovered that their house in Kanto had been destroyed, Musashi and Kojiro decided to set up home somewhere far away out of Team Rocket territory. Fear of being caught up in Team Rocket yet again would not leave Kojiro be, and he would not risk his daughter nor his wife nor any other child that would come after Bara to get stuck in that mess for all the world. Thus they disappeared into the Hoenn Region and only came out these days for Christmas at the Niwa Estate or with Kojiro's cousins at Uncle Akio's house.

Giovanni would not seek them out, they were not worth the effort, but if he ran across them again, Kojiro had no doubt in his mind that he would suck them all back in.

Today, however, Kojiro was in cheerful spirits and with a mind hardly on such things as Team Rocket or fears about his family's safety. He kissed Musashi playfully and laughed as he warned her, "You'll be become a worrying old housewife if you keep that up." And he meant it in only the most innocent of terms for Musashi always said that she would ever be one of those old wives with old wives' tales or anything like that. Musashi with a wry smile retorted that it was his fault if she was.

Then more seriously, Kojiro said, "I promise. I won't stay out long," And with a last kiss goodbye he flew out the door with the look of a little boy running out after dropping his backpack inside after school with his dog chasing after him.

As dog and man trounced along the easy passes where there would be less danger of the river of rain if they did happen to get caught in a storm, Kojiro certainly did not expect anything eventful. In the danger of the weather no traveling pokémon trainer or anyone else would venture the passes except maybe Satoshi in his younger days, but he had already passed through Hoenn long ago and might be half way across the world by now.

Gar-Chan always stayed on the alert, though, and the dog shortly before the point at which Kojiro had wanted to turn back, caught an unusual scent. He sniffed the air and lifted his nose straight above his head to get the full whiff of it. Then stiffening, he looked out into the darkening scene of mountain brush and stone walls.

"Gar-Chan?" asked Kojiro.

They did not have time for wild goose chases, but as he stepped up to the dog, Gar-Chan paid little heed, immediately darting off the road.

"Gar-Chan!" Kojiro cried, leaping after him. "Matte!"

Even as he caught himself from slipping on a stone, he felt the first sprinkle of rain. With a cry, Kojiro just barely managed to steady himself from falling face first off the road, but he did not chase after Gar-Chan again until he had a look up at the groaning sky.

"Gar-Chan!" he cried again, spinning round and scrambling into the brush.

He pushed the branches out of his way, and his eyes immediately fell upon what Gar-Chan had been seeking.

With a triumphant bark, Gar-Chan sat before the head of the unconscious form at Kojiro's feet.

Kojiro gasped, and dropped to his knees to get a better look. Whoever this person was, he did not look good. Covered in mud and dressed practically in rags with a shaggy green hair and rough face. Cheap drink radiated off of him, proving that even if he was awake, he would be good for nothing out here when the rain fell down. His ankle looked twisted too, also adding to the pitiful state.

Turning sharply to Gar-Chan, Kojiro said, "Stay with him. Stay. I'll … uh, get a wagon or something!"

"Gar-ooo!" Gar-Chan agreed and stiffened himself, vigilant over his charge.

#

I first felt conscious of the sting of something tampering with a wound on my head. All at once, rage flared up inside and I opened my eyes. Once I opened them I found rage to be quite exhausting for just the simple act of lifting eyelids reminded me of my weariness and pain, not to mention a hangover migraine that caused me to feel that I may throw up. My eyes could barely focus on the hand as it left my head with some hesitance, but as I narrowed them in on the form above me. My immediate thought was that I was dreaming, but I glared at him, slowly focusing all his features into place: his dopey round eyes, his purplish blue hair.

After letting my mouth drop a moment, I said — maybe hissed is a better word, "Kojiro!"

Kojiro jolted with surprise, causing his eyes to be even wider and stupider than before. Then he squinted at me, studying me carefully, but I did not let him look long before, I reached out an unsteady hand to push him away.

"Get outa my face," I grumbled.

"Ko … san, uh! Kosaburo?" he asked timidly, twiddling his fingers. Then he paused a moment before the full realization dawned on him. "What happened to you?!" he cried.

I closed my eyes and turned my head away with a groan. Somehow I had a feeling this was not a dream. If it had been a dream he would have finished calling me "Kosanji", and I would have kicked him across the room and clear through the wall. Besides that I probably would have dreamed Kojiro looking the way he always had to me, as everyone from my past had, as members of Team Rocket in full uniform.

"No, really!" Kojiro continued. "What happened? Where have you been all this time?"

"Shut up," I grumbled, opening my eyes reluctantly to him again.

"Right, right, gomen!" Kojiro said with a strange sort of laugh followed by an awkward bow. "Gomen …" he cleared his throat. "You're not well. You just rest and …"

"I going," I told him.

"You can't!" Kojiro cried, but I was already pulling myself to my feet, trying hard to ignore him like some pesky fly. "Kosaburo! Chotto matte!"

He could not do anything to stop me. He just wrung his hands and watched helplessly and tried to continue begging me not to go.

Pushing for the doorway after scrambling off the low cot bed, I found myself in a place that looked sort of like a small barn. A few of their pokémon were hanging out in here, and it caused another surge of anger to run through me to be housed in the same building as pokémon, even if the guest room or whatever it was, would have proven to be a very cozy little room had I been in the mood to appreciate it. I stumbled towards the latched main door, and had just managed to undo the latch before I collapsed onto my side in pain and agony. Head pounding, my ankle writhing, my stomach lurching, I stared out into a storm that had the ferocity of a raging shadow pokémon.

I could not go on. I gave up, relented. Kojiro helped me to my feet, and he gently led me limping back to my room where once I hit the bed I lost consciousness.

#

"Since when did you learn anything about doctoring?" I demanded, examining the neatly dressed wounds on my wrist, just as neatly as my ankle, forehead, and a few other parts of me cut on the stones upon which I had fallen.

"I uh … well," said Kojiro, running his fingers nervously through his hair with an awkward smile. "Partly from Musashi, and partly from experience, and …" he paused thoughtfully a moment and then added, "some local wisdom from the nearby town."

"Really," I snorted.

"Children get hurt all the time getting into trouble," Kojiro explained with a sort of affection that disgusted me in regards to his offspring. (I had almost forgotten about his little offspring). "And you're not the first traveler or their pokémon to come through here injured like this and worse. Up here it's hard to get to a doctor if you're hurt. Cars can't get up here, so unless you got a big well-trained pokémon …"

I'd been bruised, cut, and I had a fever besides, it was soon discovered. All that forced me to remain at Kojiro's little guest cottage. I still considered it a barn where his pokémon slept.

"And now from Team Rocket agent to father and Good Samaritan, huh?" I muttered.

Embarrassment exploded onto his face and full red color rushed into his cheeks; his discomfort pleased me, and I sniggered in delight.

"Well, you're welcome!" he retorted gruffly, or as gruffly as Kojiro could manage.

Besides that, he could not keep it up for long. His face softened with pity I did not want, especially from him, and he looked at me and bit his lip before his eyes faltered to his lap.

"I could go into town and bring a doctor up here if you want," Kojiro's little voice barely spoke above a whisper.

That did not bode too well with me. My eyes narrowed, and I stiffened with a slight angry spark that flickered inside that so easily flammable heart of mine. Being in pain did not help matters any either. Kojiro himself was not helping matters by his very presence!

"No doctor!" I spat.

"Okay, okay!" Kojiro agreed in a sort of squeak before he took control of that unwieldy voice of his like one taking control of the wheel of a runaway car. "No doctor." He paused, his eyes searching the floor a moment as for a lost penny (Or maybe just some lost sense in his brain, I thought dryly), then lifting them back to me, he asked, "Why no doctor?"

"Why do you think, baka? Doctors want records. Don't you know what'll happen with my record?"

Kojiro gulped. "Are you still shadowized?" he whispered.

"No!" I snarled; then I thought a few seconds before added, "I wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave that place without having Pr. Krane and his friends cure me. And you know what agony that was? No, you don't. You have no idea! I left just before I was ready enough for prison."

"They were going to send you to prison?" asked Kojiro hesitantly.

"Yes, stupid," I told him. "Are all your children just as stupid as you?"

Kojiro glowered, nearly dangerously, but it was still too pouty to be taken too seriously, and again, I at least felt a little satisfied.

"No," he said.

I laughed, but my laugh weakened as the heat of my fever surged above the heat of my anger, and I let out a bitter moan.

"You're sick," he told me as if I had not already known, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to sound authoritative. "Just … drink your water." He had brought a bottle of it for me and had set it on the floor beside the low cot.) "And I'll be back and—"

"Gomenasai."

Kojiro spun around, and I too had to look up at toward that little coo of a sound.

I had to admit she was a lovely child, but then no one ever said that a child of Kojiro's would be ugly even if his wife was a tad gangly. She had long, dark purple hair and deep emerald eyes a shade darker than Kojiro's, which were shielded beneath a pair of dark lashes and brows that might as well had been painted on her forehead with a calligraphy pen. It was her brain I was worried about though, not her looks. What kind of mind would spring up with living in the middle of nowhere with puppy-dog Kojiro on one side and boiling pot Musashi on the other — not to mention that talking fur ball Nyaasu who happened to have been spying on me through the window before Kojiro arrived that morning.

However, she looked normal enough, bowing her head in apology for the interruption.

"What is it?" Kojiro asked her.

"Okasan made breakfast if Ojisan wants something to eat," said the girl.

"Food made by Musashi?" I grumbled, hardly enthusiastic.

"She's been taking lessons," Kojiro promised with a nervous smile.

The girl nodded vigorously with smile that was somewhere between Kojiro's awkwardness and Musashi's exaggerated madness. Bringing forward the fake silver tray, she presented it to me, and I took it with a glare in Kojiro's direction.

It had a funny aftertaste and the miso was far too strong, but I could not ignore how starving I felt and ate up the soup eagerly.

"I helped make it," the girl whispered to Kojiro just loud enough for me to make out.

Kojiro stroked her shoulder with such gentle care as he touched a priceless glass sculpture or a tiny, fragile bird.

"Do you want me get you some too, Otoosan?"said the girl.

Although he hesitated, and I saw that hesitance in his shifting eyes, Kojiro smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, alright," he told her.

I rolled me eyes as the girl bowed to me and left the room.

"I hope you get better, Ojisan," she said.

At least she did not call me Kosanji …

#

"Why did you come back here?" Kosaburo demanded, eyes flashing like lightning as they locked onto Musashi's face in the doorway.

"I promised you I would," Musashi sniffed with some offence as she stepped further in through the door, "and Kojiro's here too."

Kosaburo glowered, and it made Musashi suspicious, for he looked liable to pounce from his bed and attack her. With the shadow poison still running strong through his veins he no doubt could. He himself warned Musashi that they had not been giving him any medication recently since they figured out how to adjust the deshadowizing machine for human use. Medication got in the way of the healing process it had been explained later by the staff.

"No!" hissed Kosaburo. He did not boil over, he merely simmered. "I don't want him to come in here."

#

Why only Kojiro came to me, I am not sure. Maybe Musashi was too busy. Maybe Nyaasu and Musashi made him as they used to make him do everything, but I doubted it even then. I did not know anything about that stupid cat, but I remembered Musashi that day she came to picnic with me in Orre.

I still remembered her words, and they burned clearly in my mind: Kojiro is better than you'll ever be … He's … he's … the bravest person I've ever met.

It made me sick. Well, I was already sick and in more ways than one, but it made my meager meals swim and decide to surf up my throat to puke. It should not have bothered me as much as it had. Why should I have cared what Musashi thought of Kojiro? I didn't, and yet it was that thought of Musashi's words that day that made hate Kojiro most. I felt he did not deserve them, and I knew Musashi meant them. However much it gave me warped pleasure to think that Nyaasu and Musashi were forcing him to do this for me so they would not have to, I knew that whether or not Nyaasu would do such a thing, if he did, Musashi would rather chuck the cat in here to wait on me rather than purposely humiliate the delicate balance of her husband.

I did everything I could to make Kojiro's life miserable while I stayed at his house, and by the end of the week I could see notable wear on him.

"How can you live with yourself?" I demanded. "Being such a miserable wreck as you?" And all that kind of thing I demanded of him while he exchanged my bandages for new ones, gave me my meals and medicines, and checked the status of my twisted ankle.

He put up with it all with only minimal complaint and sometimes a shout and the occasional childish pout or leer, but he did not seem to feel it worth defending himself with anything useful in his behalf, or maybe nothing came to his mind to say in his defense.

As soon as he was done with the bandages one day, he picked himself up with obvious effort.

"I gotta go," he murmured in a hollow voice.

I had just finished reminding him of his stupidity on the occasions Yamato and I ran into him. There was a special lingering on the moltres incident, which seemed to hit some nerve and really wear him ragged not to mention have him lose his temper a moment or two.

I smiled now, happy he was leaving. "So you can go cry to your wife like a baby?" I asked.

A visible shudder went through him.

"No!" he snarled. "No!"

He clenched his fists, shaking all over, and he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

JAPANESE PHRASES

Shogakko: elementary school

Chotto matte: wait a minute

Baka: stupid

Gomenasai: excuse me

Okasan: mom

Otoosan: dad

Ojisan: sir (loosely)