Ariana was a master of not looking like she was waiting around.
Curt, poised steps towards Yellow as the young girl arrived from Giovanni's office. A dismissive glance and once-over, making everything seem like the usual business. After all, nobody could know that Ariana was skulking around like a little rat.
"Well," Ariana said, seeing Yellow bow, "I suppose it went well?"
That question felt loaded, but the recruit nodded. Ariana tutted as she strode over to Yellow and started to take a closer look at her posture. Yellow fought the urge to shrink back and kept her spine upright through sheer will alone.
"What did you three discuss?" Ariana asked, holding the question close to Yellow's neck.
Yellow's mind tumbled into confusion. Should she tell Ariana? Giovanni did not want them to reveal the conversation, it seemed, and he was higher on the ladder than her own master. But it was her master, which was a whole other issue entirely.
Could she get into trouble for obeying Giovanni, but disobeying Ariana? Undoubtedly, Archer was wringing the same information from Lancelot and most likely in the same fashion. It seemed the Executives were a special type of busy-body.
Ariana picked up on her hesitation like a cat to a mouse, "Dear Amarillo. Surely you would want me to help you and Giovanni? How could he possibly expect you to carry his will—a little girl with no knowledge of how the world works—all by yourself? And Lancelot?"
What Ariana didn't say was "And if you don't tell me, I'll make your life hell until you do before beating you for wasting my time."
Yellow forced down her swallow, twisting her ponytail around her finger. Her body felt smushed against two rocks and there was no way out. Parts of her voice cracked against the solid metal tile, trying to find footing between the choices.
"Madame Ariana, I… I…"
"Do I look like I have time to wait around all day, Amarillo? Spit it out."
Didn't she? Ariana already waited. A sick, mischievous part of Yellow's ego sprang up before her tongue, suddenly reminding her that Yellow had something that her master did not. Bubbling arrogance built in her stomach, ready to throw it back in Ariana's smug face.
She had a special conversation with Giovanni and a special task from him. Why, Yellow even got to have special training with him! That meant something around here. So Ariana can whine and bitch all she wanted, but if Giovanni didn't want her included…
Yellow folded her arms across her chest, now bursting with pride. "Master Giovanni said you should talk to him, Madame Ariana."
Ariana's face didn't fall. "Did he?"
It felt strange, having the upper-hand for once. Yellow almost didn't know what to do with herself. The knowledge and weight of Giovanni's secret was a valuable treasure. But it was something that belonged to Yellow and she wouldn't let it belong to Ariana too.
Yellow might feel differently when she's being punished, but for now, she's riding high.
Ariana didn't wait for an answer, but smiled instead. One of those devilish, wicked smiles that held a dark intent. Yellow could see her whole future in Team Rocket behind those dark, red lips and poisonous fangs.
It's one thing to be obedient. Entirely another thing to draw sides.
"Well," Ariana said, "If Giovanni wishes to talk to me further, then we'll talk. Go on, Amarillo. We'll see what the fuss is about."
Yellow made sure she didn't sigh in relief. She's escaped the torture for now. But as she bowed again, Ariana pointed towards Giovanni's office.
"Do remember that if you want to see Giovanni again, Amarillo, that you have to ask me to bring you back here. Don't come here on your own."
These Executives were excellent in the long game. Yellow shivered, stepping back towards the base area as she left her master behind. All she could do now was wait for that future to unfold and focus on the present.
Getting back to normal. That sounded like an excellent goal.
x
It was dinner time before Yellow spotted Lancelot again. She wanted to call out, but the agent bringing her tray would report their talk right away. Far less dangerous if Yellow waited until they were supposed to be asleep.
Yellow swallowed everything she could on her plate before getting ready for bed. Her heels bounced around the floor, trying to steady her footing as she waited impatiently. The young girl threw her head towards the ceiling, looking for the omnipotent cameras.
Were they watching now? Waiting for the two to talk?
Yellow hesitated, settling on her small cot. Of course they would wait for a time like this. She could feel a pair of eyes zeroing in on her, waiting for the first move to be made. Yellow was more active at night, so it would make sense to ramp up the watching.
'Tell us everything. Tell us everything.'
A tight squeeze around Yellow's neck. Secrets don't live long down here in Team Rocket. She blamed Giovanni for putting her in this situation. How could he expect a small girl to go against the horde of devouring agents and Executives?
She buried herself in her small sheets, pressing her face against the pillow. It was too easy. Yellow remembered seeing funny stick and twine contraptions in the forest that nestled amongst the darkest bushes and trees.
Traps, Mother Forest said as she swept them aside with a gust of wind. To catch Pokemon when they weren't paying attention or looking hard enough.
But those were carefully disguised traps. Could traps also be easy to spot? Was it worse when they were?
Yellow could imagine her tiny body wriggling in one of those traps. Struggling against the suffocating and binding twine, waiting helplessly as the hunter came upon her. Visions of the baby Wooper whipped across her brain as she remembered their frightened eyes and mewls for their mothers…
Her body chose for her. Sleep.
x
Dreams are fickle.
But Yellow can't remember any.
She knows there's something there, but her hand presses against the wall of her mind. Solid, blank, and empty of thoughts.
What was Yellow dreaming about? Was she dreaming at all?
All the young girl knows is that she can't press against the blank wall any further. It pushes back—gently, at first—before shoving her completely off. Locked away forever and shut off from what Yellow thought was hers.
Mother Forest—
Mother Forest is not here.
But Mother Fo—
Mother Forest is not here.
… Some things can never be finished. And thus, Yellow sleeps.
x
Yellow learned the next day that Lancelot did not like dogs. Not one bit.
"Get a move on!" Incubo, the warden Houndour assigned to escort them, shrieked at the two children, "Aya! Move!"
"I know my schedule," Lancelot said in a rather testy voice, "You don't need to remind me."
"Master Archer said to be escorted! That's what I'll do!" Incubo proclaimed, his tail upright, "Move!"
Lancelot would have strangled that yappy dog if he could and Yellow could tell that he was seriously still considering it. However, he shuffled his books as he softened his mumble into the hardback covers.
"I'd rather deal with Proton than this," the boy muttered, "Much less stressful."
"Master said no talking!"
"I'm not talking, I'm practicing rhetoric," Lancelot snapped at the bossy Houndour, "I can rehearse in the halls if I want. There's no rule against that."
Yellow eyed the Incubo, seeing the huff expelled from the dog's throat. Interesting way to win the argument. There must not be a lot of respect in letting a small Pokemon dominate a Rocket agent, after all.
Much less Archer's Pokemon.
"Fine, but you better be quiet!" Incubo said, walking down the hall, "One word out of line and I'll tell Master Archer!"
For the first time in a conversation about Archer, Yellow saw her peer roll his eyes. While the act was minor and easily overlooked, it shocked her that Lancelot displayed such rebellion so openly. It was as if the boy had lost his mind and forgotten his whole fear against the Executive.
"Lancelot, are you…?" Yellow asked.
"No talking!" Incubo snapped at her.
Yellow stiffened, "I… was… practicing rhetoric?"
Lancelot stared at her as the Houndour growled, making her think that this was going to come up later.
x
Proton was not going to let a little thing like Archer's will or Pokemon stand in the way.
"Well, hi, handsome!" Proton greeted, seeing the two children enter the physical training area, "Come here often?"
Lancelot sighed—probably wondering what he did in a past life to deserve this—before pointing to Luna and the other trainers. There wasn't much said, but it was obvious he was trying to indicate that he had other business than a pissing contest.
"Aw, well, that's real cute," Proton said, ignoring Yellow for now, "But check the sparring board, gorgeous. You're going up against me."
Board? Yellow glanced around, trying to find whatever board he was talking about. Lancelot looked pale before throwing his stuff aside, running towards a large electronic screen in the corner of the men's changing area.
Yellow tossed a hard look at Proton, but it didn't do anything. She chased after him, seeing Lancelot stare at the blinking lights. Hard, bold letters wrote out his fate:
GASTROP vs. BENJAY
LANCELOT vs PROTON
LUKA vs LUNA
ACERO vs SPADE
"That's not fair!" Yellow exclaimed, "He's bigger than you!"
Lancelot squinted, turning around to find a smirking Proton, "You changed it. You're out of my league, they don't allow lower ranked to spar with higher ranked."
"Aw, well, things happen," Proton gestured, "Must have been your lucky stars."
"Master Archer would never allow this to happen," Lancelot said, throwing down his anger in a shaky voice, "It can't happen. The ranking system doesn't allow—"
"Wow, you still think I give a fuck about Archer?" Proton taunted, "I don't have all day, gorgeous. Hurry up and put on your ass-kicking undies. People are waiting."
Yellow flailed towards Lancelot, "We should tell! Master Archer will stop this!"
Lancelot threw a look at the board before glancing over at the other Rockets. Some part of Yellow could sense that he was weighing the options. If he ran away to Archer, he would be seen as a coward. If he didn't, Proton would surely beat him senseless and toothless.
Yellow couldn't understand what the big damn deal was, frankly. Reputation was one thing, but so was being smart. If Proton did something he wasn't supposed to, shouldn't people know it? Shouldn't some accountability be held?
"You don't have to do this, Lancelot," Yellow said, wanting to shake reason into him, "He's bigger. It's not fair."
Lancelot pretended not to hear her, "Fine. I'll be out in a minute, Proton."
No wonder Lixue had a low opinion on boys. They were so stupid and consumed with nothing! Yellow scanned the board again, seeing Luna's name against a man. Maybe there was a way around this. Lancelot shouldn't have to go through with this, regardless of his dumb reasons.
"Girls can spar with boys, right?" Yellow asked, darting between Proton and Lancelot.
Proton got her intention right away, laughing, "Oh, no, sweetie. Don't do it. Let Lancelot fight his own battle."
Lancelot said nothing, walking into the changing room.
x
There was something about how a man walks when he knows he's going to win or die. It's different in a twisted, awe-inspiring way.
Lancelot kept his gaze steady and his gait straightforward. Every step was rehearsed with calm precision, giving nothing away to his true emotions under the steely heart. Unlike his previous beat-downs, Lancelot took his time to marinate in his decided fate.
Yellow thought, in midst of her disbelief in how a boy could be so dumb, that he looked like a knight in fairy tales. Proton was the dragon and the tale of their fight would be spoken about in the halls of Team Rocket forever. Regardless of the outcome.
Luna nor any of the other trainers presided over the match. It was someone with another purple bandana and it was obvious that this guy was in on Proton's little scheme. In fact, considering that a small-yet-plausible crowd started to form around the back sparring ring, this all seemed so rigged.
"Proton's gonna beat down the ratcatcher," Yellow heard one agent say, "Ten on the kid not lasting a minute."
"Why is Proton getting such a hard-on for this kid? Jeeze, nobody likes Archer, but this seems wrong…" the other agent said, "Fifteen on him not lasting forty seconds."
"Kid's a crock. Gets to be an Executive just by being Archer's student. Nobody is gonna listen to a shoe-in. Someone like Proton knows what it's like," the first agent said, "Twenty-five on forty seconds. He looks like he's gonna lose an eye."
A hard pit dropped in Yellow's stomach. So the agents of Team Rocket didn't like the childrens' fate either. Was there anyone in Team Rocket besides Giovanni that did? She remembered Silver bringing up the same complaints in the safe room.
Team Rocket agents wanted to close ranks. Team Rocket Executives wanted to keep a legacy. The two ideas clashed. But Yellow felt it was too easy of an explanation on why Proton hated Lancelot and desired to see him bullied. Too simple, too convenient for someone that wanted pain and misery.
Proton could be using it as a way to get into good graces. Always finding the opportunity to be well-liked.
"Better bow, kid," Proton snickered at Lancelot's steady posture, "Get used to seeing the ground."
"You're not an Executive," Lancelot said, his eyes locked on Proton, "And until you are, I don't have to."
Yellow twisted her ponytail as the teenager straightened up. Proton didn't expect Lancelot to answer so elegantly–in fact, it reminded Yellow of Archer's tactful conversation. Refined, dignified, yet deadly.
Lancelot picked up more than academics from his master.
The sparring overseer lifted his hand to give the signal.
Lancelot tensed up.
Proton winked.
The hand lowers.
"Who authorized this?"
A voice broke through the small crowd. In seconds, the crowd began to disperse in a slow but efficient fashion to cover up their ill intent. Deniability was the goal here and even Yellow started to look around as if she was entirely preoccupied with something else.
Archer. Someone said his name too many times.
Proton didn't back down, but he still had his mouth shut. Lancelot used his heels to keep himself on the ground and made a stiff bowing motion towards his master. Archer took no notice of the silent child as he eyed the electronic sparring board in the back.
"I must not be speaking loud enough," Archer said, "Who authorized this?"
Proton took an obvious route, "The board."
Yellow blew out some air as she read a random equipment inscription for the fourth time. Archer didn't humor that one bit and turned to his student. Lancelot straightened back up, making sure to keep his gaze at eye-level.
"Lancelot," Archer made sure to throw full weight behind his words, "Who authorized this?"
The boy allowed himself one blink before answering, "The board."
Smack! Archer backhanded Lancelot, making it echo across a now-quiet training room. Lancelot pulled himself back up, fighting back tears as blood started to leak from his nose. A bright red bruise began to spill across his right cheek.
"I don't like arguing with children. I especially don't like them lying to me," Archer said, watching Lancelot try to stand straight again, "And I especially do not like dick-measuring contests that involve you. Lie to me again. See what happens."
Yellow could see Lancelot's courage fall away. Everything he was before—all the exasperation, bluffing, bravery, and mindfulness—melted into what he really was before Archer.
A child. And Archer was the closest thing to a parent that Lancelot had.
"I don't know," Lancelot said, his voice now a tiny whisper, "I don't know who authorized it."
Archer wasn't totally satisfied with that answer, but he knew Lancelot was not lying. He turned on his heel to stare at Proton before grabbing Lancelot's collar. The boy lurched a little as Archer dragged him off the ring.
"I will see to it that the glitch is fixed then," Archer said, making sure Proton heard it, "And check the change logs myself."
Yellow saw Proton's face fall a little.
x
When one door closes, another door opens. Opportunity had a strong scent in Team Rocket and everyone could jump on it.
In Silver's case, it was Archer not lurking around the training rooms to ban him from entering. So the heir seized the chance to rush there and throw his own weight around.
Yellow had finished for the night and was leaving when she saw the red-headed boy arguing with Luna. It was obvious that the older woman wanted to smack that boy into next week, but held herself together best she could.
"Your father has banned you from here due to your behavior," Luna said, cutting above Silver's complaints, "Kicking agents without warning in changing rooms because you're a sore loser doesn't bode well here."
"My father is not here to tell me no," Silver said, insistent, "Neither should you be."
"Imagine that I get paid for this," Luna said, "Go on, Silver. The agents are getting ready for their night shifts. I don't have any sparring partners for you even if I wanted to entertain this."
Yellow couldn't imagine there were any agents lining up to be in the sparring ring with him anyway. Silver looked into the room, seeing it sparse for the time being. He tossed his hand back, turning away from Luna.
"My father will hear of this," Silver said, "I should be allowed to train whenever I want. Isn't my future physical health a priority here? Did my father not build this for me?"
"No, it was built before you," Luna corrected him before finding her serenity again, "But I'm sure Giovanni can speak to me if he wants."
Yellow took a few steps down the hall before Silver spotted her. In an instant, he rushed towards her and grabbed her by her ponytail. The poor girl yelped, spinning around on her heel to see Silver's demanding stare.
"You can spar with me!" He proclaimed as if he had done Luna's job for her, "You have nothing better to do!"
"I already had physical training!" Yellow yanked her hair back, "Ow! Let go!"
"No! You come with me!" Silver snapped, pulling harder, "You're so stupid! Follow instructions! That's all you came here to do!"
Yellow tried to grab her hair back—this boy was going to pull it right off her head! She yelped again as painful tears ran down her face. Silver couldn't just go around grabbing ponytails and making girls bald! It wasn't fair!
It wasn't fair at all.
"Let me go!" Yellow shrilled, hoping someone would help.
Silver tightened his hold, "Come here!"
Life in Team Rocket wasn't fair. If it was, Silver would have let go. Or better yet, never have done this. But Yellow couldn't make it fair unless she stepped in and did something. Opponents, like Luna said before, never waited to offer her tea and cakes.
Yellow pulled back her fist and threw it forward.
Smack!
Silver was so startled that the pain didn't even register. He let her go and stepped backwards, quite shocked at the act. Yellow massaged the back of her head to ebb the aching feeling in her brain.
"Did you…?" Silver said, aghast now, "You're really are stupid."
It took Silver running off before it hit Yellow. Her soul felt iced over, making her toes frozen to her very spot. Yellow fell into a wide-eyed stare as if she could see a thousand miles away and her body began to quiver at the very thought.
Did anyone see?
Of course they saw.
Cameras are everywhere.
Eyes are everywhere.
Mother For—
Mother Forest is not here.
Yellow was alone.
x
It took two hours for Ariana to come to her door.
"Giovanni wants to see you," She said, "Make yourself presentable. Now."