"Is that really necessary?"
I ignore the query as I reach into my wallet for my card and hand it over to the beaming sales assistant. Everyone here is so full of energy I am now convinced it is most definitely a Goldenrod City thing and perhaps a Johto thing. I glimpsed some tower blocks when walking over here but perhaps they were condominiums or other shops and maybe Goldenrod City lacks the domineering presence of offices that Medali has.
"We can't bag it for you," the sales woman says chirpily, "but I can offer you a nice ribbon for it."
"How much?" I query warily.
"It's included." She seems to spring to life as if waiting for someone to want a ribbon with their purchase.
I watch, almost mystified, as she bustles about under the counter, flinging back items before she bobs back up with a tray of ribbon spools. There are a variety of colours and I realise I am out of my depth here.
I glance over my shoulder to Looker, his face is bearing the stain of impatience and he is fidgeting on the spot, shoving his hands into his coat pockets before lifting them out and repeating the gesture.
"I don't suppose you know anything about ribbons?" I query quietly.
He raises his dark eyebrows and his mouth parts slightly. He waits a moment, probably expecting me to laugh but when I don't he frowns. I expect him to shake his head but he charges forward and pushes me slightly to the side.
"Well the gold will just blend in with its coat, pink will get lost in the spikes. Silver, yes, definitely the silver," Looker announces.
I am a little afraid with the intensity Looker goes through the ribbons and reminded of Brassius' disturbing devotion to his art.
"Okay," the woman says cheerfully as she continues to smile at us, "do you want the silver then?"
"Sure."
She moves so quickly it's almost in a blur, tugging out the silver ribbon, snipping it free and then binding it about the neck of the oversized Pokemon doll I am purchasing in an extravagant bow.
"Perfect," she praises herself.
Looker bends over slightly to scrutinise the bow and nods.
I hand over my card and she rings it through. "Alright then, let me get you a receipt."
"Did you have to get such a large one?" Looker demands.
I glance over to the Girafarig doll, which stands almost to my shoulders. "I didn't see any others," I answer.
"You didn't really look." This is true.
When we exited the rooftop I was quite prepared to hurry down the stairs without a glance at any floors but a shop that lets you escape so easily isn't very well designed and this department store is most definitely well designed. When I spotted the awkwardly sized Girafarig standing alone against a wall, forgotten for the more popular Pikachus and Eevees, I knew I had to get it for her. It's silly, I'm hoping after all this time that she stills holds the same affinity for them she did in her youth. Does Mia even remember how she liked to see them grazing on the plains near our home? This odd, dual headed Pokemon that she loved because it was half like her daddy's Pokemon and half like her mummy's Pokemon as a Normal and Psychic type.
I wrap my free arm under the toy's stomach and hoist it up against me. I hear Looker sigh as I manoeuvre it awkwardly towards the lifts.
"That is impractical, what I read up about you implied you were very practical," Looker mutters as he walks beside me. "I hoped you would be helpful, that is I hoped to help you too but this will slow us down."
"Why, do you know where she is?" I demand as we reach the lift doors.
"Shh!" Looker scolds me before pressing the lift button. He glances about quickly and frowns at me. "You don't know who's listening or watching." He shakes his head. "Anyway, if I knew that I would be sending her to you not trying to get you to her."
I feel a bubble of despair growing in me. Of course it wouldn't be so simple but now I'm starting to doubt this man knows much and that maybe Geeta was right to be cautious about my coming here on his word.
The lift doors bing open and I am relieved to see it is empty as I pull the Girafarig toy in with me.
Looker presses on the 'Close Doors' button rapidly and I feel a very small prickle of fondness for him. Probably he is doing it out of paranoia but I like people who avoid crowds as I do.
The lift starts to descend and we are treated to advertisements for shop wares through the speakers instead of music.
I flinch when I feel Looker's hot breath brush against my face as he leans so close to me his nose is almost touching my cheekbone. I don't like close contact from people at the best of times and I'm not making an exception for a stranger in a lift.
"Alright," he says quickly under his breath, "I think she could be here or coming here. I had word that the Rocket Executive Troy was heading this way and I believe he is tracking her."
The lift doors bing open before I can respond. I see Looker pull back swiftly out of the corner of my eye and glance forward as I hear someone running.
A young male enters the lift in a pant. He reaches up to grasp the metallic wall for support as he leans over slightly to catch his breath. The doors close and he stands upright, his curious stare fixing upon the Girafarig doll.
"Late home from dinner too often?" he quips mockingly with a wink in my direction.
I stare back at him calmly as he smiles. Like Whitney he's in the world of adults but he still has the lively charm and plucky naivety of youth attached to him. His fashion sense of a hoodie with a Jolteon on it and the caption 'I find you shocking' emphasise his juvenile side. He is perhaps another decade away from the sombre reality the weary working world will bring to him.
A loud screech sounds from above us and the lift halts. The doors do not open and a metallic rattle sounds out as the box judders slightly.
A curse escapes from the man and he grasps at his thick, dark brown hair with both hands, turning the downward spikes into a mess.
"Nope, nope, nope," he starts to ramble.
There is another low creak and he lets out a yelp.
Looker and I exchange a glance. Looker's dark stare shows annoyance but no concern.
"I can't be stuck in here, it's too small and there are no windows!" The young man turns round and starts banging his fists against the doors. "Let me out of here! Help!"
I press the call button as the man continues to beat the doors. The speaker buzzes a few times before there's an answer.
"Apologies, we've had a security alert," a man's voice advises, "the lifts were stopped as a result. We'll get you out of there as soon as we can."
Looker's arm shoves me back as he reaches out to press the button unnecessarily. He leans across me to the speaker. "What security alert? What's happened?" he demands loudly.
"Nothing major, please don't panic sir."
"I am not panicking!" Looker exclaims it loudly as if it is the worst thing to be accused of. "Tell me right now what's happened?" I resist the urge to point out that he does sound like he's panicking.
"Er well it was a petty theft sir, someone has taken an evolution stone. Please don't worry, we have the police coming and we will have the lifts up and running soon."
"LET ME OUT!" The panicked man continues to beat the doors.
I think of how peaceful this situation could be, kept secure from the business of the shop with a moment to rest, free from the obligations of the world but instead here I am with a terrified stranger and an over-reactive detective.
"Thieves but is that all they did or all you are revealing?" Looker demands.
There is no response and I hope the line has gone dead.
"Hello? Hello! I am a member of the International-"
"Let's help him!" I interrupt Looker almost revealing his identity to this stranger who I swing my briefcase in the direction of.
The man is back to grasping his hair and groaning. "I can't breathe, there isn't enough air!"
"Well that's hardly possible, it's only been a couple of minutes, give it another hour then we can be concerned about that," Looker advises unhelpfully.
"I think he's claustrophobic," I venture.
I by-step Looker and squeeze between him and the Girafarig to approach the man.
"If you're worried about the air you mustn't breathe it in so quickly," Looker says.
The man points at him accusingly with one finger as his mouth rises in a snarl. "That's not helpful!" His free hand clutches at his chest as he starts to inhale and exhale rapidly.
"It's unfortunate," I address him, "but there are worse things."
His dark eyes enlarge with disbelief as they fix upon me. "Is that meant to be comforting?" He quivers slightly as an odd, hysterical laugh erupts from him. "Hyuck-hyuck-hyuck!" It sounds like he is gagging on his own laughter. "I'm trapped in a small, steel death box and it's with you two nuts!" He shakes his head as he continues to laugh and drops to the floor in a nervous show of giggles.
I glance down at him as he grasps his knees and starts to rock back and forth. A small, golden furred head pokes up from the V-neck of his Jolteon marked hoodie. I stare down in surprise as the whiskered face of the Pokemon glances up to me as its nose twitches. It looks like a Rattata but I have never seen one with this soft, pale gold fur before or the unusual cerulean eyes it searches the lift with.
"What's your name?" I implore the man.
He glances up to me in surprise and rubs at his mussed hair. "Huh? Kenji. Why? Want it for the tombstone? You'll be a goner too when this thing drops." He shudders and a groan of worry slips out.
"Kenji it's a malfunction, they happen. They are an irritating delay to one's work but part of life."
"What?" He shakes his head at me before hugging his knees once more. "I seriously can't breathe here."
"If you couldn't you would be dead already," Looker states the obvious in a sardonic tone.
I wonder at his accent and Kenji's, neither of them matches in with Whitney's twang but I don't know all the Johto dialects to tell where either of them may or may not be from.
I wonder how long the mechanics will take. I do not expect to die in here but I am concerned it could be a while before we are freed and my stomach is growling now.
Kenji's odd laugh comes out of him again only quieter this time. "Hyuck-hyuck, how can you want food right now? I feel sick!"
"I'm hungry," I explain. I don't understand why I shouldn't want food just because of this inconvenience. If you're hungry, you're hungry.
"Yeah I gathered!" Kenji frowns up at me before his gaze darts to the Girafarig. "Is that thing going on your dinner date? Big apology to someone?"
I nod. "Something like that."
"Hyuck-hyuck, you must've really annoyed them to be spending that much. You probably could've spent less winning one at the Game Corner. Well, that is if you know which buttons to hit on which machines."
Looker steps forward and pushes back the ends of his coat to prop his hands on his hips as he stands over Kenji in a dramatic stance.
"That sounds like cheating," he accuses.
Kenji tilts his head up to Looker and smiles. "Just being lucky."
"Hmm." Looker raises his right hand to his chin in a moment of thought. "You were in a hurry to get in this lift, is that why you're panicking? What were you running from?"
"What? I was running to catch the lift! I have an appointment to make," Kenji answers hostilely.
I consider Looker's words for a moment as I stare back down to Kenji. If we are in a lift with a thief I don't want to know about it, Mia is my mission here, I don't have time to be sorting others' wrongs.
The lift box starts to move, startling us all. Kenji jumps up with a scream and I wince as he grabs me about the waist.
"Don't let me die! I'm too young and I still haven't shown my Batty the National Park or gotten a haircut yet! I can't be buried with my hair like this!"
I am starting to think Kenji might be on the Buneary slippered side of crazy.
The lift takes us down at a normal not plunging pace. The counter notes G as the doors open us back to reality. Kenji glances over his shoulder to the shop floor before whipping his head back round to me. He offers me a wide, flashy smile as his gaze glimmers with embarrassment.
"Alright then, gotta go!"
Kenji releases me and bolts off in a run.
"Hey!" Looker moves to give chase.
"Wait!" Looker glances back at my call. "You need to keep the doors open for me."
I reach up to tug my tie back into place, feeling that Kenji nudged it with his desperate embrace.
"He's probably the thief you know!" Looker admonishes me.
"He's not our problem." I lift up the Girafarig toy and manoeuvre it out awkwardly. "Let's get this to my hotel room and you can tell me what you know over dinner."
"Over dinner?" Looker splutters at me indignantly. I suspect from this he is not a man who has time to enjoy good meals. I want to admire that devotion to work but I can't, one has to appreciate a good meal.
"I need to eat."
"Where are you staying?"
"The Sunset Strand Hotel."
"Oh, that's near the beach," Looker approves, "some lovely shells along there and stones."
I think Hassel would probably like this crazed cop but I am finding it hard to believe he really knows anything about Mia and my bubble of despair returns.
We bypass uniformed cops and their Growlithes, and a mixture of concerned and curious shoppers as we head out of the department store. If they missed Kenji running out of here like he had something to hide then more fool them.
It takes longer than I would like heading back to the hotel. I can't walk as quickly as I want with the sizeable Pokemon doll and Looker offers no help. I suspect this is deliberate as he was against the purchase.
When we reach the hotel I check in at last and ignore the receptionist's questioning looks at both the Girafarig doll and Looker.
After our experience in the shop, Looker wants to avoid the lift but my room is on the third floor so I opt for practicality and insist we take the lift.
We arrive on the third floor without further trauma. The hallway has an aged ornate appearance to it, something once beautiful but now forgotten as its blue carpet has darkened with age and the bronzed gildings on the wall have dimmed with time. I know how the hotel feels.
My room is nothing wonderful, there is a bed and that is all I could hope for. I leave the Girafarig free-standing beside it.
We head back downstairs and venture to the waiting restaurant.
"Let's go to the patio," Looker suggests. "Harder to eavesdrop outdoors."
Since I don't care where we sit I let him lead the way through the quiet dining room and out the glass doors to a raised patio area overlooking the ocean.
The salty sea air prompts me to glance out at the hazy, blue-grey ocean. I hear cawing and glance up to see a couple of Murkrow flying overhead.
I can remember the only time Mia got to go to the beach. I had been working long shifts and her mother had gotten into several heated arguments with me that had led to dishes spontaneously exploding in the kitchen as a psychic side effect of her rage. Taking the hint, I had booked one glorious day of leave. We had gotten up before the sun and caught a flying taxi out to a secluded beach. It had been a day of Wattrel dodging and Finizen watching while eating ice-cream and building sandcastles. Mia had been completely mesmerised by it all and declared it 'The Best Day Ever'. She had begged to go back but I had never found the time.
"Larry?"
Looker's voice snaps me back to reality. He gestures to the right with one hand and I look to see a waiter ready with menus.
I glance down at the menu but nothing jumps out. I order a dish of pasta and seafood with water, entirely unadventurous but I'm feeling tired.
The waiter heads back to the kitchen and I stare across the table to Looker. His lilac tie is out of place and his shirt wrinkled, he doesn't strike me as an organised man.
"How did you connect this psychic girl to me?"
Looker spreads his hands open on the table. "I have spent a long time following Team Rocket," he explains, "trying to observe them, to infiltrate them or stop them. One day I got close enough to keep an eye on this Troy, a man with burn scars about his face. He makes no secret of the cause, a girl who can create fire, who he once had in his grasp. Well I looked into it, there aren't many girls of psychic powers gone missing at that age and only one whose disappearance was connected to Team Rocket. It took time to find all the connections, after all, here we are in Johto, there you were in Paldea, and there she was in Hoenn."
"Hoenn?" I am stunned by this revelation.
Looker nods sombrely.
Hearing laughter, I glance over the white paint chipped railings. I can see figures in the distance on the small beach. A female runs ahead, chasing a Pokemon I can't quite make out. Her hair flies behind her in the wind like a whip, bound in a ponytail or plait maybe. There are two figures walking behind her, one I see has pale, silvered hair. I look to the female again, the laughter is coming from her. I wonder if it's the people from the train.
"Troy went to Hoenn, I was a few days behind his trail unfortunately," Looker explains grimly.
I turn my attention back to him but his tone has me wishing I could avoid this news. "What happened in Hoenn?"
"A woman was almost murdered by Team Rocket while trying to protect her daughter."
A humming fills my ears and redness blurs the edge of my vision.
I don't know how long passes but suddenly I feel Looker presses a glass into my hand. I can see him mouthing words but I don't hear them. I lift the glass and take a gulp. Relief pools through me as I swallow icy water and am revived by it.
I set the glass down and stare back to Looker. I want him to repeat what he has said but I also don't want to hear it again. What kind of horrible coincidence can this be?
"Why?" I query quietly.
"Her daughter is a psychic," Looker explains, "something the family tried hard to keep quiet about."
I shake my head disbelievingly. "I don't get it, how does that bring us here?"
"The woman is a Mrs Lucy Stone, mother to the former Hoenn Champion Steven Stone. He's vanished from Hoenn, easy for him, he was a wanderer there anyway but odd to be gone so soon with his mother still recovering in hospital. I looked into it, into a hospital at Rustboro City where it all happened, the woman and daughter attacked in their own home, saved by the son's return. There were records, sealed but I got them, of a patient who shook the furniture in her room as she slept, whose door kept opening and closing in time to her screams, a psychic with a history of troubles but only a brief history. No birth records. Ellie Stone, sister to Steven, daughter to Lucy and Joseph but no signs of her being born to that family."
Ellie Stone. Something in it shakes at me. My eyes go to the beach where the people were. They've left. Ellie Stone.
I jump up from my seat and run to the railing, grasping at it as I lean over to look at the beach. It's not possible is it? It's not! It's nonsense! Has she spent all this time masqueraded in another's family?
"Ellie! Ellie!" I yell the foreign name across the salty sea air but only a Murkrow calls back.