I feel depression plucking at me as I look at the house where we all died. I've kept going but existing isn't the same as living. There is little to hint at the tragedy that happened within save for a sombre silence about its grounds and a garden void of life save for weeds. I wonder if the neighbours have an opinion on its state of abandon. I should sell it but I can't.

Two rusting posts stand as a reminder of where a low gate once served as a poor guard to the path winding up to the house. I remember being confused by its broken state that day, I had visions of a wild Pokémon taking an umbrage to it and was already angry over an imagined cost to replace it before I even reached the door. I can't recall purchasing anything new for my current apartment, I have no desire to improve it, it's there because I need to keep up a facade of being okay and getting on with things but it's not home.

I step through the weeds and head up the almost lost path to the door. I glance down to see if I might find the faint remnants of stick figures and colourful blobs with exaggerated fur and wings and spikes meant to resemble my Pokémon years ago. I realise my foolishness quickly, those markings were made with cheap chalks, a rainstorm took them away long ago and history has not been preserved for me.

I look up to the door, the blue paint has faded and chipped away over the years but I remember how soft its summer sky shade once was. I have no idea what colour my apartment door is and I don't care. I tug out my keys and stare stoically at the brass key for this house. It has hung on this ring unused for a decade, another piece of the past I can't rid myself of.

I don't even know why I've come here. It's too late in the night for this but I don't know where else to be. The letter has driven me here I suppose, to relinquish that foolish spark of hope and remind myself of reality. Although the others had their reservations about it, there was nothing to suggest the letter to be fraudulent and I cannot think anyone would be cruel enough to conduct such an elaborate prank but I have lost hope in it anyway. It's absurd to think my daughter would be alive after so long and I am too sensible to dabble in such fantasies.

I slide the key into the lock and frown as it turns with ease. Was this door always so flimsy? Why couldn't I have provided a safer home for them? I often wonder if I could've worked harder then and earned more money so I could've afforded better security. The problem was they wanted me at home more, I missed so many dinners as it was with my overtime, I couldn't give up the bedtime stories as well. Maybe if I had I could've gotten better than the runt of a Houndour litter to protect her. Of course, didn't I miss story time that night? Working hard because my daughter had started to show psychic abilities and I was afraid to go home and face that.

The colours of home have been muted with time. Even when I flip on the light switch I find the photos on the wall shrouded in dust and hanging crooked where the strings holding them up have worn away over time. I have never gotten round to cancelling the bills. I really should, maybe I could work less then but I need the reason to work so much. Besides, it's nice when I receive those payslips and pay off the utilities of home, I can pretend for a fleeting moment that I am still a provider for my family.

I walk through the hall, bypassing three set of smiles that are ghoulish in the dim rays of the bulb. I know I am fooling myself by forgetting the hard times we shared here too. I head for the stairs but my feet lock up halfway as a memory holds me in place.

I can still smell the heated odour of burning curtains and recall the day I arrived home to it. I found my little girl in her bedroom staring at the amber flames licking her curtains as small spits of fire jumped from her fingertips. I had to take off my jacket and beat the flames out with it. I was so scared that when I turned from the curtains and saw fire still slipping out from her hands, I smacked them in a panic. It is my second biggest regret. Just two days later she was gone and her mother dead.

Our last moments as a family were spent at a sulky breakfast with my wife snapping at me that I was afraid of what I didn't understand. I yelled back that she was right and I was afraid I'd find a house I'd worked so hard for burned to cinders one day. I had departed from the table leaving my daughter in tears, distraught that her own father was scared of her.

I force myself to continue ascending the stairs. My guilt will not undo the past and lingering on it is a waste of time. I walk past crinkled pages of artwork stuck to the walls with tape. My wife had no concerns with keeping with the prim look of other households and displayed our daughter's creative pieces with the same pride of having one of Brassius' pieces on display. I remember Hassel always making a point to praise them when he called and promising to tutor when she was older. Age has robbed them of their appeal, blanching the boldness of the pencils and drying out the warmth of the paints. I keep seeing distracting black and grey blobs over and over again meant to represent me and my Starly battling. She called them 'daddy at work' because they were more fun to draw that daddy sitting at a desk exhausted.

I avoid the left side of the house where our bedroom still remains. That door will stay closed to me forever. I can't face seeing what damage may have been done to my wife's clothes by stray Venomoth and Tandemaus. So I head to the right and take a moment to look at the wooden letters on display on her bedroom door- M.I.A.

I feel a horrific smile stretch up my face as hysteria quivers up my throat. I only just swallow it away and summon back my bland emptiness. My little Mia, did I inadvertently predict her fate with her name? Perhaps if her mother had picked her name I might suspect a psychic's forethought at play but the name came from me. She had radiated her mother's brilliance but I had hoped for her to have a little of me in her and so I had named her- my little me- Mia.

I push open the door and hit the light switch. There is silence and a stale scent in the air. What was I hoping for? A sign to pursue the letter? I don't know.

I step into the room and want to recoil as the sight of partially chewed Pokémon plushies greets me. No doubt the work of Tandemaus taking materials for their nests. A Komala plush has lost its ears and a Starly plush its beady eyes. Her favoured one, a Girafarig, is gone. I don't know if she had it when they took her but I hope she did.

I turn to go as I realise I have only wasted my time here. Maybe I'm better going to the Treasury Eatery to see if the bar is still open.

A small yip breaks the silence in the room and I glimpse the flicker of a flame out of the corner of my eye. I turn in alarm, fearing the ghostly memory of curtains on fire but this flame is tiny and frail, flickering a faint violet atop the candle like head of a wispy white form.

Another yip follows, emitting from a mouth that smiles with jagged points rather than teeth. A soft head butts lightly against my trouser leg. A moment of annoyance courses through me but when it butts me again and its wisp of a tail starts to wag I feel an odd empathy for it.

I crouch down to welcome the distraction and reach out a hand to pat the head of the endearing ghoul. It is a Greavard, conjured up from the shade of the other world though I'm not sure why it should be here instead of wandering about some graveyard or ruins. I flinch as its tongue licks upon my hand and it offers up another friendly yip. There is something about this Pokémon that seems familiar but I can't place it.

Its head thumps against my ankle stubbornly and I sit down, offering my right hand out to it whilst my left clutches firmly at my briefcase. Its tail is wagging in a blur, delighted for the attention but I take no joy in it. I give it a single pat on the head in a failed attempt to be kind to it. It turns and retreats to under the bed and I figure it's gone.

I stare over at the dark patch under the bed curiously as I hear low growls. It does not sound like a battle cry but perhaps one of frustration. What can this Greavard be at?

A blur of white bolts out from under the bed and I feel shock seize upon me.

The Greavard has returned with its trophy, a small, pink shoe dangles from its mouth. I remember the Houndour pup in its very brief time with us managed to gather up a collection of our shoes under Mia's bed. This is what the Greavard reminds me off, that poor, young Pokémon, barely lived before it died in a horrible, bloody fashion.

I lean back and cross my legs, welcoming the Greavard up to my lap. It drops the shoe into my lap and I reach for it but the Greavard needs attention too. My hand releases my briefcase so I can scratch behind its cold ears whilst I cradle her shoe with my other hand.

I feel tiredness creep up on me but I don't care. Would it matter if I slipped away here? What if she is out there though? What if after all this time Mia is waiting to be found? I let the thoughts trickle away from me, they're fogging up my brain and I just want a break from it. Just a little moment of rest.

The Greavard nuzzles against my shirt and I continue to scratch at its ears and pretend for just a moment that this is more than a shade. I imagine that the Houndour and I are here together as we were all those years ago, waiting for Mia to arrive home with her mother so we can surprise her.

I hear a tutting noise echoing through my head and try to shake it away. I don't want to give up the oblivion I've found myself in.

"Larry you idiot." Alas, someone is quite determined that I should come back to reality.

"Is Mister Larry going to be okay?"

"Well I wouldn't say that squirt, he wasn't okay to begin with." I recognise Rika's amused tones.

My body feels heavy with fatigue, every limb aches and my brain is fuzzy with a desire to sleep. I feel two hands shoving against my shoulder quite rudely.

"Mister Larry wake up please!" Poppy sounds like she is on the verge of tears. I wonder if Hassel might be here too but presume not since I don't hear sobbing.

I can't quite work out what the problem is, I'm just too tired and I'd rather ignore them both and go to sleep.

"Poppy wait here, I'm going to get help."

I ignore the voices as I am determined to slip back into sleep's oblivion. I don't care why I'm tired although I am a little curious as to why Poppy and Rika are here.

"Oh dear, oh dear." Poppy's small hand keeps shoving me making it clear she's not going to let me slumber. "Wake up. Wait, I know!" There is a sound of rattling against metal and then the crinkle of plastic being fidgeted with. "I've got candy, it'll help you wake up."
Candy. The thought abhors me- cheap with only sugar for a taste probably. I am a connoisseur of foods as eating is one of the few pleasures I have left, I do not want my palate ruined by mass produced sweets designed to silence children with short bursts of sugar.

I tense as something is shoved into my mouth. Apparently Poppy has never heard the term- choking hazard. It's something soft with a dry dusted coating that starts to dissolve against my tongue. I taste sweetness but it's not sugar, it's a very fine blend of flowery honey that melts on the tongue rather than sticks to it. Perhaps Geeta has been generous on the treats she buys for Poppy rather than snatching up the cheap brands. Does it come from generosity or guilt? One might never know with our champion, she is the type to have a child in full-time employment after all.

I hear a low growl calling from somewhere, it sounds afraid rather than fearsome.

"You...you behave now!" Poppy attempts bravado as she responds to it. "Corvi's keeping an eye on you, you've made Mister Larry almost dead!"

I'd be amused with Poppy's dramatics if I didn't think they might be true, my entire body still feels like it weighs a ton and I have no desire to snap my eyes open to see if Poppy is real or part of some bizarre dream.

I hear footsteps and voices. "Here he is." Rika has returned then.

"Oh, um-right!" A woman's voice fumbles alongside an awkward shuffling of feet.

"He took a candy so he's still alive," Poppy advises confidently.

"He took it?"

"Well.. I helped him."
"Squirt you know he could've choked on it, right?"

"Um..." I feel a hand touch my brow and withdraw as quickly as it arrived. I open my eyes at last and frown as I am faced with the nurse from the Pokémon Centre, she is a person who specialises in healing Pokémon.

"Oh good, you're awake!" She gives me a bright smile though her wide, blue eyes are animated with unease. "I brought a thermometer but I didn't really know where to um..." Her cheeks become tinted with embarrassment and she turns away from me. "I mean you're the Gym Leader and..." She reaches up to rub at the pink ponytail barely snared under her cap. It's a colour trend I don't understand, a lot of young women seem to be following it and I'm fairly certain Iono had a hand in popularising it. "Well...it's not oral with Pokémon."

Rika's laughter drowns out Poppy's confused questioning over what that means.

I realise I am lying on the floor with my back propped up against a wall. It takes me a moment as I take in Rika's amused expression to realise where we are. There is an orange glow from a Growlithe night light plugged into the wall, above it faded stickers of happy Pokémon smile in the parts of the wall that aren't covered by repetitive pictures of figures that are meant to be depictions of Mia, her mother and I with our Pokémon.

It takes a moment to feel the dull ache in my right hand. I look down and see I am clutching a small, pink shoe so tightly its rubber soles are making grooves in my palm. Then I realise my left hand is empty and a moment of panic seizes me. I scan the room and spy my briefcase standing unharmed, just a few feet from Poppy's large Corviknight. I gaze up at the bird Pokémon with displeasure as I consider the damage its steel tempered sable feathers might do to this fragile room.

"Why is he out?" I point in the direction of the bird.

"To protect you," Poppy answers.

A defiant yip from in front of the Corviknight gives me a clue as to what from.

"Um...are you feeling okay Mr...Gym Leader sir?"

Rika chortles at the nurse's awkward question. I glance up to Rika again and raise my eyebrows in question. Why is she here? How long have we all been here? I'm a little fuzzy on the details now. I can remember departing the League in displeasure, understanding of the others' scepticism over the letter but in no mood to discuss it. I just wanted to come here and mourn and think about the possibility of hope alone.

I nod. "I haven't died in the time it took you to ask that question so I suppose okay is a fair term."
"Larry," Rika chides me. "She means well, she's just not used to human patients."

"No," the nurse babbles as she bows her head apologetically, "I'm really not, it's usually the Pokémon of challengers you defeat or the ones battling Pokémon in the wild grass and those patients of mine make noise when they're not okay."

She beams at me with a perfect sunshine smile and pats me on the head. "You've been a great patient so far!" She withdraws her hand quickly and blinks as her blush returns as she realises what she's just done.

I catch Rika raising a hand up to stifle her giggles.

"A patient of what? What's going on?" I demand.

"You were almost killed!" Poppy exclaims dramatically. I look her way as she points to her Corviknight. I stare at its talons clicking on the wooden floor and envision the scratch marks it might leave there. "Corvi's got the cupcake covered!"

Rika's laugh slips out this time. "Culprit Poppy not cupcake. That would be a Greavard."

I hear the panicked yips again, which are silenced as the Corviknight snaps it beak out warningly.

I remember now, the ghost dog Pokémon and I were here together sharing sad memories of Mia.

"Oh dear!" the nurse exclaims. "They're notorious for draining people's energy, the amount of young trainers who catch them on a whim and then end up passing out because they don't know how to handle them. Next thing, the Greavards are right back to abandonment! It's very sad, they can't help it, they're needy by design."

"Aren't they ghosts?" Poppy gives a soft eek and steps back quickly. "Corvi be careful!"

I attempt to stand at last, pushing myself up slower than I'd like from the floor. My knees bend slightly in protest but I stay upright and wave off the concerned nurse's half-raised hands. I take a step forward to peer past the Corviknight.

A small form of wispy white fur is shaking on the floor, atop its head a candle's violet flame winks in and out of existence. It tilts it head up but I don't know if it sees me as its eyes are hidden beneath a mop of fur. It yips excitedly and wags its tiny tail.

The Corviknight gives a warning caw and there is a sound of metallic clanks as it sheds some feathers onto the floor.

"Poppy, can you recall your Corviknight please?" I request calmly.

"But I don't want you to be sleeping forever Mister Larry!" I hear the sob building up her throat and glance over my shoulder to face the girl but I fail and look to her shoes instead.

It's too hard to see a girl of similar age standing in Mia's room where she should be. I want to order Poppy to get out but that's not fair, she seems to have come all this way just to check on me though I can't imagine why.

"It's fine."

"Alright, come back Corvi." In a flash of red the bird Pokémon is taken back into its Poké Ball.

The Greavard hurtles forward to butt its head against my legs. I place my hands on my knees and bend down to survey it. Ghost Pokémon hold no interest for me, they are Ryme's speciality, I have no time or patience to deal with something that can travel through objects. Bad enough to be harassed by people without appointments without having something drift through the walls to intrude upon your sanctuary.

I look to the pink shoe I am pressing against my right knee. Is this the sign I was seeking? I feel that this could be her Houndour, has it appeared to me after all this time so I can reunite them? It seems like wishful thinking.

I pat my jacket with my left hand and fumble through my pockets. "Does anyone have a free Poké Ball?"

"What for?" Rika quips. "Aren't you juggling enough with Normal and Bird types without adding Ghosts to the mix?"

"Maybe but do you have one anyway?"

"Here, this should work well."

I look to the ball Rika has just handed me, it's a Dusk Ball. I nod in gratitude before turning my attention back to the Greavard. "Alright then." I swing the ball forward and up with little effort. It smacks lightly on the Greavard's nose and swallows it up in a red light.

"Well that was definitely the laziest throw I've seen," Rika remarks.

"I'm still tired." I reach up to fix the knot of my tie as the ball rolls gently on the floor. After two rolls it goes still.

Poppy claps in delight. "Well done Mister Larry!"

I lean down to lift the ball, hesitating as a moment of dizziness strikes me. The room wavers slightly before solidifying again. I grab up the ball and stand upright again. I turn to Rika as I feel her stare upon me.

She has her hands at her hips, copper eyes glinting with concern.

"Why are you here? It's late," I address her calmly.

Rika raises her arms to fold them. "Yes Larry, very late to have left the League instead of staying like a sensible person."

"We had nice sandwiches for you," Poppy says mournfully.

"I wanted to be alone."

"After that kind of news?" Rika's dark teal eyebrows rise up and she tilts her head slightly before shaking it.

"Well it's not even confirmed as real," I use Geeta's words on the matter bitingly. After her comment about the letter I chose to leave the League for Medali.

"Larry it didn't even give a meeting place or anything to confirm what it said."

"Yes it did, it was just concealed." I consider this fact evidence to support the validity of the letter. "He said he could pick up radio signals best by the department store which has sales on Monday and that he would take two more visits," I explain. "I haven't looked into Johto yet but there's probably somewhere in relation to radio with a department store that he wants me to meet him at on a Monday within two weeks."
"That's quite a reach."

"Um...you aren't injured are you Mister Gym Leader? I do have plasters."

I look back to the nurse whose existence I briefly forgot. She has a finger up in the air as if raised in question. I shake my head at her. She gives another brilliant smile before unzipping the pouch at her waist, from it she withdraws a biscuit, which she holds out to me.

"Well then I can go but you've been a great patient!"

I stare down at the dry biscuit with disgust. "Is that for Pokémon?"

"Just my favourites!" She drops it back into her pouch, zips it up and turns away from me quickly. "Sorry!" She apologises with a backwards wave of her hand before racing to the stairs.

"You really are a people person aren't you Larry?" Rika mocks me.

"Chitchat gets me a pay docking," I murmur.

"Well look, it is late and Hassel is probably demented searching for you and Geeta's probably tired of looking so we should go, find them and get some rooms at the inn."

I look over to Rika in surprise. "They're here too?"

She nods. "Of course! We split up to look for you, couldn't be sure if you'd be at your apartment or your Gym or a restaurant or here. Larry we all care about you, you know, you should've just stayed at the League."

"She won't let me go to Johto."

I have so many responsibilities here, even if we have no challenges lined up for the League the Gym will still have its share and there is a mountain of paperwork waiting for me at the office. It's not even forsaking the work that will have Geeta standing in my way. I know she won't like the idea of me wandering stray, free from her carefully controlled League.

"She will if she knows that you're serious about it, that you actually believe that letter could be true."

"I owe it to Mia to look." It's odd saying her name, I can't even remember when I last uttered it aloud.
"Well you can't go alone!" Poppy pipes up stubbornly. "You don't know Johto, do you? It's probably big and scary and full of weird Pokémon!" Probably Poppy is right about that.

"And people," Rika adds humorously, "and we know how good you are with them." This is also a fact I suppose but I don't like where Rika is going with it.

"I have to go alone."
"Nonsense," Rika scorns with a shake of her head before giving a wink, "you'll need my charm to help you over there."

I know her offer is meant to be helpful but it will set up barriers for me. There is no chance of Geeta having more than one of her Elite travelling for an unknown time in a different country, it would look unprofessional. I think about telling La Primera my intentions and realise I would prefer to be drained by the Greavard than face her.