(Hey guys, apologize for the late update. I've been working on a long-awaited update to "A Calculation", so you should swing by over there in a couple of days. Hope you enjoy!)

(Important: If you are reading on FFN, you are reading an edited version, with slightly different content but identical plot. You may go to AO3 for the unedited version.)

Sylveon

How did the Master find you?

He went outside in the streets, looking for me.

Why did the lady leave you alone?

She said she had to go home and take care of her son.

What happened when the Master found you?

He said "Come back home already, you little faggot." I asked him what is "home", I didn't know that word. Of course, he didn't understand what I was saying.

He charged towards me, he stepped on my ribbons, it hurt, he did some other things, he sucked me up into that pokeball thing. It was all so fast. Almost so fast that it doesn't seem important.

Important? What do you mean?

Like, it's so undramatic. You're taken like that, then trapped behind a red screen, and it just happened. No words, no goodbyes, no tears. I almost wish I could cry.

Why do you wish you could cry?

Because she deserves my tears.

Sandra

I cried in my room the night the sylveon had disappeared. I took it at first as an omen; that by some shifting in the stars and the moon—oh, the moon. I stared out at the moon. I wondered if at this moment, the sylveon was soaking the power from the bright rock in the sky into his body. It made me stare at the moon outside my room for hours and hours.

But I knew we could never share more than the same moon. It was all how it was meant to be. It was supposed to be this way, after all: Amis was happier, my husband and I patched things up somewhat, and I had a few more hours of sleep every night, not going to visit the PokéPalace.

But how could it be that I was supposed to hurt so much? Was pain my just deserts for all the joyously sinful days with him? The punishment for the flaws and vice of humanity?

As I closed my eyes and tried to go to sleep, images appeared, back dropped by a veil of darkness. The first was the sylveon. Then I saw the moon, its brilliant glow in the dull night, beckoning me, beckoning me to escape the darkness that it was surrounded by, that enveloped my own body. But it was hopeless. I could never reach the moon. Then I saw Amis' rejuvenated smile. Then I saw my husband, smiling. Then I saw shredded clothes, ripping all the other thoughts away.

Then I saw bright pink that washed all the images away. I fell asleep.

Christine

"Nice work, Agent Christine." My shift had ended, and I left the PokéPalace at around 7am on my first day of work. Returning to the International Police building, the staff there silently greeted me (so as not to arouse suspicion), and I removed the wires in my clothing.

"That was not bad, for a first time undercover job," Looker said to me.

"Thanks," I said, wholeheartedly accepting Looker's modest praise. The screams of the pokémon still lingered in my mind, but not as much as they did when I heard them through earphones. Somehow, experiencing the brothel firsthand made it more real to me, more real such that it was there, right in front of my face, as opposed to down below in the dark bellows of crime hell. And that made it less frightening for me.

"Oh, Christine, just to let you know…ah, I shouldn't say," Looker quickly silenced himself. His long stay at Alola had softened him: his poker face was wearing thin, and was more prone to revealing secrets to me: like that the raid was to be conducted that very night. Nothing stood still in the relentless heat and humidity.

Sylveon

How did Mr. Beverly punish you?

Master didn't beat me. He used the high-pitched whistle for ten minutes. He tied me up so that I couldn't cover my ears. I screamed, but he didn't hear me because he covered my mouth with tape also. Then he shouted at me.

"You unfaithful piece of shit!"

"You little runaway faggot!"

"Well, what're you staring at me for!? Well!? Talk to me! Go! Move! Move like the obedient little pokémon you're supposed to be! What? You can't talk? You can't move? WELL WHOSE FUCKING FAULT IS IT!?"

How did you deal with it?

The only thing that gave me hope was the lady. I knew the lady would be there for me. She always is. Until that point, I'd never had that feeling before. Hope. I know what it is, but I hadn't felt it before. When you know there's someone rooting for you, suddenly even the worst torture becomes less painful.

Christine

After taking a nap in my room (I vacated my apartment and stayed in a secretly monitored building near the headquarters, for my own safety), I took a shower, ate lunch with Looker and all the other agents that would conduct the raid, made a toast (at the pressure of my colleagues, "to the safety of the world"), and returned to my room early.

When Looker asked why I was feeling so down, I told him I knew the reason why I was feeling down, but I couldn't explain it.

Sandra

I left home immediately after I woke up, at 2pm. I wasn't one to dash right out of bed, especially without brushing my teeth, eating breakfast, or changing out of my think white silk nightdress. My legs moved like bounding springs, moving my body like a puppet down the street.

It was bright and sunny that day, and after just waking up all I could see was light. Light. Light. That fucking light! I squinted as I automatically trudged down the streets. I knew deep inside that wherever my legs were driving me, I would end up in a building that was dark, with the warm moon welcoming me inside and shining over me. The moon. The moon. That bright, lovely, soft, furry, pink and blue moon.

I heard voices for a very long time while I was walking in the street. Cuss words. Shouts of concern. Sparse greetings. They were so loud, I thought their words would hit me, smack me clean in the face. My shoulder jerked and I suddenly stopped.

"Ouch! Oh, I'm so sorry I bumped into you!" I heard a familiar voice.

"Tania," I addressed her. "Sorry. Gotta go."

She stopped me with her arm, only gently touching me but stopping me in my tracks. Her wise eyes stared at me. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

The lines on her face frightened me. Something about the heaviness of age that set on me like a falling sun. The light. The light. Must go away. Must get to the night. Once the night sets in and the moon rises up, fucks me, then comes again, fucks me, then comes again—everything will be fine. There will be no more light. The light will end. But wasn't the daylight bound to end? Wouldn't it be night eventually? Why was I rushing into the night?

"What's the rush?" Tania repeated.

I didn't answer her question and walked off.

Christine

I got ready for my shift that evening at 5pm. Looker confirmed my hunch: the raid was tonight, confirmed. Thirty International Police agents with 20 trained electric pokémon were at the ready. Looker would not reveal the exact time they would arrive.

"We'll be right there before you know it," he said with a smile.

I nodded my head softly. Looker asked me what was the matter.

I lost my focus packing my things into my backpack. I looked away from him. "I'm taking a 6-month leave of absence after this case closes," I told him.

"Sure," Looker said. "In practice, you're your own boss. You're in control."

"Thank you," I finally spoke. Something about what Looker said made me feel so much stronger. I put the last few things in my bag and headed out to the PokéPalace.

Sylveon

Are you mad at the lady?

No, not anymore. I was mad at first, especially when Master was hurting me. When she left me there outside her house, she promised that no one would take me! She promised! And then Master comes take me away that night and she wasn't there! Even if she couldn't save me, she wasn't even there to say goodbye! But when the lady came looking for me and found me, I wasn't mad at her anymore. She had kept her promise.

But the lady never promised to protect you. She just said to wait outside, isn't that right?

That's what she said, yeah. But you could see her promise. In her eyes. I dunno. It's the same feeling I get when I funnel energy from the moon. It doesn't really matter precisely where it is, precisely what it is. It's just there.

What else can you see in the lady's eyes?

She's young, like me.

She's 45.

Really? I always got the feeling she was younger than that. She acts young. She's a bit crazy. She's boring on the outside, but colorful on the inside. I'm the reverse of that. And having worked at the building for so long, I'm sick of what's on the outside; I care more about what's on the inside.

You know, sometimes when I eat the boring food Master and his people give me, I imagine the lady and all her pretty colors…and life is exciting again.

What do you think the lady sees in your eyes?

A mate.

Christine

"Alright, we've just got one more thing to do," Monica said as we approached the door of the primarina's room. "It's still not well…"—she pointed to the door—"…and we've gotta checkup on it. Maybe sedate it if it's too crazy."

"Of course," I smiled lightly, although inside my stomach churned. I wasn't sure if I was scared about the impending raid, though; the thought of it would make me feel comfortable.

"Why don't you open the door, then? I've got the equipment," she said, holding the high-pitched whistle, emergency sedative, and stethoscope.

I stopped when my hand gripped the doorknob. I remember my hand was trembling. I breathed deeply and tried to shrug it off, but it didn't help. Monica asked me what was wrong. I responded blandly, and when she pressed further, I said "Why don't you open the door."

Sandra

"Where is he!?" my mouth said when I bursted through the entrance of the PokéPalace. My head jerked around, looking for the manager.

"What d'you want, lady?"

"S…s…" I managed.

"Serperior? You want the serperior?"

"No!" I blurted out. I was incensed by his assumption. I wanted "the s…syvleon," I said. "Now. Now."

The manager sighed, and held his hand out. "Well?"

"Y…you mean he's here?"

"Yeah. The little faggot ran away, but it's back now. So pay."

I fumbled under my clothes, lifting my dress up looking for cash, until I realized I had none. When I saw the manager staring at me, I realized that I wasn't wearing my usual outfit.

"I…I don't have money."

"Then leave."

"H…hold on, I'll…I'll find some cash." I paced fervidly about the room. The truth was, there wasn't any cash I could get. The only money I had was at home, and that was too far away.

I stopped pacing. "Please…please…now," I groveled. I think I fell to my knees. It was pathetic. You fucking sylveon! Is this what you want? I thought to myself. For me to grovel to a goddamn balding idiot for you?

All for you and your…your little smiling face and big blue eyes and you saying "Mmmm…!" and smiling and laughing and fucking and fucking and fucking and fucking—no. I could never leave that massive—that sylveon—behind. No…no…I could never leave this place. Not when you are here, you little sylveon with no name.

"Come back tomorrow," the manager said to me. "What's the rush? We'll be here tomorrow." He was wrong, but in his defense he could have never known.

"J…just lemme see him for free this time," I pleaded to him.

"Fine," he conceded. "But you owe me extra money next time."

His whole business would be ruined in a few hours, and all he could care about was one little session with the sylveon.

Christine

"I don't wanna open the door," I repeated, my voice trembling. That was the weakest I ever felt as an International police Agent. I couldn't explain why; it was as if all the power had been sapped out of me. "Could you open it for me?"

Monica nodded. She put her hand over mine, but then paused. She asked, with a smile, "Listen…before that…lemme say something. I…and…we…erm." She stopped. She withdrew her hand and began avoiding eye contact with me. "I was…wondering. If. We…maybe we can go out sometime. If…if that's okay with you. Are…are you…?"

I nodded.

"Heh. I could've guessed." Of course, she did not guess that I was married (to Jan) with a son (Edison).

"But about going out, erm…I dunno," I said, scratching my head, letting a little smirk leak out. "I think it'll be rather inconvenient for the next few days and onward," I said, alluding to the raid. I subconsciously looked around the walls of the narrow hallway.

"Oh, you're busy? Well, maybe after work tonight. We could go for breakfast or lunch or something."

"Sure, I'd like that," I lied.

A woman walked past us in the hallway, dressed in a thin silk nightgown, her arms bunched up tightly and biting her lip nervously. That was Sandra Macintosh.

Sylveon

What did you and the lady do the night of the raid?

At first, we sat on the bed and hugged each other. Things were…different that night.

Why is that?

I was already weak that night because it was the new moon; Master had picked the worst time to punish me. The lady wasn't wearing her usual clothes, and her head fur was all over the place. And she didn't get mad at me when I chewed up her money paper.

What happened after?

We made love. [smiles]

So you fucked?

No, silly! [giggles] We made love! I already told you that that was different. I fuck my clients. I make love to my mates.

Sandra

Never did I take a new moon as such a bad omen. The sylveon was weak and tired, and I could see faint traces of strap marks where he may have been tied up.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I abandoned you." It was my fault he was hurt. I might as well have tied the rope with my own hands.

The air conditioner was down. This combined with the sylveon's warm aura left me in an unpleasant hot, flushed sweat. I grasped the collar of my nightdress while the sylveon stared.

"Mmmm…" he said, his voice a little deeper than usual. Perhaps he had gotten older.

Sylveon

Why do you like it when the lady takes off her clothes?

It's like one layer of her is peeled off, and I see a new part of her that I've never knew about before, a new part of her personality.

Sandra

I took off my nightdress. I suddenly gasped when I felt paper in my fingers and I crumpled the thin fabric. I searched for the source.

Inside the inner pocket were 3 crumpled and faded P10000 notes. It was the full price for 2 hours with the sylveon. I started sobbing.

"Mmmm…?" The sylveon gave me a worried look.

"No…it's all right. I feel good. As I matter of fact, I feel…" Happy.

I must have left the cash inside at some point, and forgot to take it out before sending it to the dry cleaners. The chemicals had worn out the money from a proud embodiment of wealth and power to an old, inked piece of paper with a number on the corner.

I left the notes on the bed, backing away from it as if it was some deadly sinful weapon that I didn't want to hold any longer than I had to.

The sylveon immediately got up and started chewing the numbered paper into little shreds.

I smiled. I threw my nightdress over to the other side of the room, completely baring myself in front of the sylveon. "Now you see…" I began. The sylveon looked up at me attentively.

Sylveon

Why do you eat money?

I keep forgetting that money paper is not tasty. I chew it up and then realize it tastes horrible, then I spit out the little pieces.

I don't know why the lady gave me money paper to eat that night. I think she wanted me to eat it, even though I don't like to.

She smiled at me when I destroyed her money, and that's never happened before.

Sandra

I touched my naked body. "Now you see, I have no money," I said to the sylveon. "I'm not paying you to do this. I am not…your 'client', I am not…your 'customer'."

I let my body sink into the bed and the sheets, my arms spread out to expose my entire body. I looked at the sylveon. "You see, now I am…just me. Nothing else. No fees, no surcharges, no restrictions. Just me…"—I pointed—"…and you," I pointed. He looked at my finger curiously. I withdrew my finger before he could do anything.

"Heehee…!" He surprised me with his laugh.

Sylveon

You mean you didn't know how to laugh?

Yes. But I can now! [giggles] See? The lady made me realize that I could laugh. No one ever played with me before when I was in the building. All the times I fuck with my clients, that's work…or business. That night…that was just playing.

So making love is playing?

Yeah! It's fun, trust me! You wanna play?

Sandra

"I'm not doing this for the money," I said. "I'm doing this…"—I hesitated for only a second—"…because I love you.

"And you're not doing this for…the money," I guessed. "You're also doing this…"—I hesitated for longer than a second—"…because you also love me."

The sylveon didn't respond.

"Well…there's no need for you to reply," I said, positioning myself properly on the bed. "If I'm correct…show me I'm correct in the way you make love to me. Now."

"Heehee…!"

Christine

The raid happened close to midnight that night.

We conducted the medical exam of the primarina at around 2350. Shortly after, at 2355, two International Police agents entered the room with the primarina. Monica was apprehended without electrocution, and did not resist that much, considering the feelings of betrayal that she must have been experiencing.

The primarina had to be sedated with an electric shock, which was extremely effective as he was a water type. Shell-shocked by the blinding light and power, it stood frozen, trembling, its brown eyes wide open in fear.

Eight customers were found and apprehended that night, including Sandra in the room on the top floor. Sandra resisted arrest somewhat, shouting something along the lines of "No money! No money! I love him! No money!", but a mild electric shock quickly sedated her.

Twelve pokémon were found and taken into custody to be interviewed, as well as for therapy. The sylveon resisted electrocution using his attacks, but was already weak and had exhausted himself before anything more serious could happen. Other Agents apprehended and treated the primarina; the undercover medical exam was the last time I ever interacted with him.

(Tentative end, but may be continued. If there are any loose ends you want me to tie, any questions you have, I will be happy to publish another chapter. Until then, thanks for reading and your feedback is always appreciated!)