Chapter Nineteen
Bruno waited until the flickering blue light of Peter's soul dimmed, like a hot coal taken out of the fire. Then he gently wriggled out of the sheets, unlocked the bathroom window, and slipped out onto the roof. His padded paws made no sound as he sprinted across the rough black shingles. Then he leapt down onto a brick wall, sprinted across its length, swung on a tree branch, and dropped to the ground.
Bruno darted through the shadows, down musty, cracked alleys strewn with filthy papers and broken glass, until he arrived at a battered, rotting wooden door at the far end of a cramped alley. Bricks were popping loose from the surrounding masonry, and the mortar crumbled at the slightest touch. A fine mist of wooden splinters coated Bruno's fur as he rapped twice, paused, and rapped twice again.
A Delphox opened the door and gestured for Bruno to enter. His groomed fur shimmered in the diffuse city light. A branch sat in his right hand, carved and polished into a sinuous, elegant wand that reflected the fiery colors in his fur.
The white stone floor of the dilapidated building was ground into coarse gravel, and nothing remained of the tables but a cracked, dusty sheet of varnish and heaps of moldy wood. Only the circular bar and its ring of stools remained untouched by time, both being made of stainless steel muted with grime. The shelves behind the bar, also made of the same resilient metal, held glass bottles so caked with dust and cobwebs that their labels were completely hidden.
In six chairs, five Pokémon faced the bar. One was a tall, lean Alakazam with a neatly trimmed mustache, ornate carved silver spoons, and a thick leather-bound book floating an inch from his nose. A Gardevoir sat next to him, her flowing white robes tossed to one side as she kicked her feet up on the bar. She smiled and waved her unruly green hair out of her eyes when she saw Bruno enter.
Taking up a pair of chairs, a Metang ate a metal girder. Iron filings drifted to the floor as its hulking white teeth shredded the beam like a monstrous blender. Its metal body shone from a recent waxing, and a USB port jutted from the back of its head. The Metang always complained it itched, but it could never reach it with its stocky metal limbs.
The last pair, sitting opposite the Metang, were a Mienshao and a Hypno. The former wore a clean, pressed white kimono tailored to its shape, and the latter wore a dusty black cape with a faded star, its yellow dye turned gray by age, adorning the center. The Hypno cradled a pendulum made of platinum, cracked down one side, in his hand, while the Mienshao held a slender paper fan, fully extended and adorned with cherry blossoms. The Mienshao's beady black eyes darted across the room, while the Hypno's dead gray eyes, ringed by blotchy patches of white scars, fixed their lifeless gaze far beyond the walls of the ruined tavern.
Bruno and the Delphox, Aurum, took the last two seats. The Alakazam lifted a spoon, and seven glass shots floated out from under the bar, each meticulously clean and brimming with a clear, green liquid.
The Mienshao eyed his cup in distaste. The top was so wide in his tiny hands he couldn't wrap his fingers around it.
"Why can't I get a smaller cup?" the Mienshao complained. "I can't go home drunk like last time."
"This batch is weaker," Preston the Alakazam explained. "Never fear, I haven't forgotten about you."
The Gardevoir sniffed at the liquid and scrunched up her nose. "Too weak. Might as well drink water."
Bruno took a sniff and found himself agreeing with Jacqueline, the Gardevoir. He could barely smell the alcohol in the fermented berry juice.
"You're welcome to the stronger stuff after the meeting," Preston said. "Just put up with it for Sakura's sake."
B9-42, the Metang commonly called Benign, gripped his glass between three pincers, so huge relative to the glass that the slightest twitch of them would grind the shot into dust.
Everyone held up their glasses towards the center, silently toasting before draining them. Benign threw the entire glass down his gaping maw, shredding up the glass with the juice and eating it all. Jacqueline held her head up high and poured the liquor down her throat while Sakura daintily sipped at the top. Houdini, the old blind Hypno, groped across the bar until his fingers brushed against the glass, then he drank with exaggerated care and set the glass back down with both hands. Aurum swallowed and let out a small puff of flame. Preston made the cup float to his lips, and swished the liquor over his tongue. Bruno took a long swallow and let the flavor wash over him.
While this batch lacked the sweet burn of stronger brews, it made up for it with a delicate interplay of sweet and spice. Hints of lemon and orange tickled his tongue before a powerful rush of cinnamon crested on the back of his tongue and rushed down to his gut like a fragrant tsunami. The aftertaste of vanilla, creeping in after the cinnamon, prepared the palate for the next mouthful.
After the toast, the seven Pokémon spoke of their lives. Sakura complained yet again about how all the humans thought he was a girl in that kimono, and how the steam kept making his hairs split and curl, and that the kimono sleeves kept catching on doorways, and assuredly many more complaints had Preston not cut him off.
Houdini went next. His life was a wheel stuck off the ground, trying to move forward but always winding back the way it came. Long gone were the days of its magic tricks and performances, and instead, it specialized in trauma therapy, using its hypnotism to force people to forget accidents and losses before they became long-term memories. His tale leapt between past and present in a confused jumble. No hypnotism could make the old Hypno forget the panicked Rapidash whose kick missed his skull by an inch, instead scorching his eyes, and he made sure no one else ever forgot it either.
Once Houdini had a proper amount of time, Preston asked him to let Jacqueline speak. The Hypno nodded, and Jacqueline, without waiting for permission, launched directly into her account. She never talked much about her life, just saying that the week "was quiet" or "was a bumpy ride" depending on her mood, and adding a few anecdotal details, such as "a lot of fat ones this week," or "they were so young." Bruno, once concerned by these vague details, spoke with her alone and told her about the laws regarding prostitution and what the police could do for her. Jacqueline had laughed it off and told him that she worked in a hotel, but Bruno wasn't convinced until he had followed her back one night. Afterwards, Bruno had the uncomfortable feeling that she wanted to give off that impression. Her soul was like an electric fire, giving off light but never any warmth, and he could never tell what she was thinking.
Preston was quite the opposite. His soul burned so faintly that Bruno had to squint to see the flecks of gold smoldering inside of him, but the warmth radiating from his skin felt like a second sun. He spoke at length about the courses he taught at the university during the past month, about the new students cluttering his halls, some gawking or taking pictures, some averting their eyes each time he looked at them, and some eagerly drinking every word he projected through the air. He was rather displeased that he had spent the last two weeks teaching introductory biology for a teacher out on vacation, but the promise of an advanced physics class made his mustache curl up with his smile.
Once he had hit his precise lecture limit, he passed the conversation over to Benign. The metal behemoth had quite a lot to say about the current market trends of popular pharmaceutical brands, the short-selling of a company's stock whose most profitable patent had expired, and the diversification of a biomedical portfolio with stocks from the cosmetics industry. The stream of numbers, names, and statistical trends slid in and out of Bruno's ears like an eel, too slippery to hold.
Aurum went next. His life was one training exercise after another, punctuated by battling tournaments. He had spent the whole month dodging rubber balls, torching straw figures, and lifting rocks with his mind. A huge international tournament lurked around the corner of next week, and his trainer was chewing his fingernails to splinters, so he said.
Bruno spoke last, giving brief accounts of the transfer to the new department, the arrests he made, and the trip to the movie theater. He had just about run out of time when he remembered the dark-haired Pokémon in human clothes.
"Preston, I beg your pardon, but could I have a bit more time? I have something important to share."
Preston fingered his mustache. "Well, let's hear the start of it at least, and we'll decide from there."
Bruno hastily told them about how he saw the Pokémon wearing human clothes he saw in an alleyway, and how the other humans didn't seem to notice her unusual appearance. When he told them how he could feel her soul across the city, Preston's brow furrowed.
"So, do you think she would be a suitable member of our circle?"
"I think so. But I think she's in trouble. Something bad happened to her today, I could feel her pain." Bruno slammed a hand down on the bar, leaving a small dent. "We should help her!"
Preston sighed and twirled a spoon in his hand. "You're not thinking straight." Bruno silently stared at him as he considered his words. "You are of that age, you know, when girls do funny things to your head."
"But it's not–"
"Enough." The alakazam spoke softly, but with such authority that Bruno's mouth slammed shut. "As I said, you're not thinking straight. We can barely make time for these meetings. How do you expect us to find this individual, discover their situation, and help them out of whatever mess they're in? This, of course, is assuming that everything you've supposed is true. It could've been a human in costume, or–"
"There's no way she was a human."
"Or a Pokémon lacking the mental faculties we were blessed with, or beyond our help, or any number of reasons we shouldn't go poking our noses into business that does not concern us."
"But–"
Preston leaned back and examined his reflection in a spoon. "Please take my advice. Do everything in your power to put her completely out of your mind. Only when you can do so, can you make objective, rational decisions. Acting on emotion will only get you in trouble. Understood?"
Bruno gritted his teeth and bowed his head. "I understand."
Jacqueline brushed her hair aside. "Nice going, lover boy. You used up all our time. Now, I better run along before I'm missed."
With that, she vanished. Preston teleported away after her, as did Houdini. Benign shot out the door like a bullet, smashing wooden splinters across the alley until they stopped in midair and reformed the broken door. Sakura leapt out a window, cursing as the corner of his kimono caught on the windowsill. Aurum gently opened the door, burning away the splinters that floated onto his fur, and Bruno followed after the Delphox, closing the door behind him. The two Pokémon walked together through the alleys.
"Don't take it too hard, man," he said. "I saw this beautiful Ninetales, once, in one of the tournaments, and I haven't seen her since. You'll get over it."
The story soured Bruno's mood. With a curt goodbye, Bruno leapt onto a rooftop, sprinted back home, and closed the window behind him as he slid back into bed. He tried searching for that radiant sunset, but it had been snuffed out like a candle. His sleep that night was dark and troubled, and as he shivered in bed, he worried that Preston was right.
Changelog
9/26/2018 - minor edits, also fixed a naming error.