Nanu was resting with his eyes closed on the couch inside the police station that doubled as his home, his feet propped up on the table next to an empty bottle and a glass of some kind of alcohol.
"Eh, boss-man?" Guzma called, peeking his head around the open door.
"What is it Guzma?" the Kahuna sighed, not caring enough to open his eyes. "I'm tired. I'm trying to nap here, as you can see."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it...I just...I found somethin' and thought you might want to know about it."
"If it's not a million dollars or a dead body, I don't care."
"Well, it's funny you say that..."
Nanu finally opened his eyes and leaned forward with more urgency than he normally would have. Guzma was partially in view, sweat on his brow from the hot Alolan sun.
"I'm guessing it's not a million dollars," the Kahuna said, rubbing his eyes and failing to stifle a yawn.
"Nope. Dead guy," Guzma confirmed, stepping entirely into the doorframe. "At least, he looks dead. I didn't check."
"Geez Guzma, don't just pick dead—" Nanu stopped when he realized that he recognized the limp figure in Guzma's arms. "Lie him here," he said, moving the table to make room. "Quickly."
Guzma set the man down and Nanu checked his pulse.
"Arthur," he said, patting the man's face. "Arthur, it's me. You need to wake up."
Arthur groaned and moved his head away before grunting in pain. There was blood caked in his hair and sand sticking to his body like glitter that had been wildly glued to a child's art project.
"Oh shit, he is alive," Guzma remarked. "I found him outside our walls. My guys didn't do it, I swear."
"No, this was someone else," Nanu said. "I have a good guess."
"What the hell?" Arthur said after rapidly blinking his eyes and trying to sit up. "Nanu, is that you, or am I seeing things?"
"No, it's me," Nanu replied, sitting back on his heels. "You're in rough shape. What happened?"
"Team Rocket is what happened," the Interpol agent groaned. "The bastards. Kept me in one of their hideouts for days and finally just let me go. Not before giving me a beating, I guess. Should've killed me."
"Looks like they wanted you to live," Nanu said. "They wouldn't leave you alive by mistake. Guzma, fetch me the first aid kit. It's...eh...it should be somewhere around here. I used it the other day when one of my Meowth gave a bratty kid the what-for."
Arthur reached around for his knife, patting around on his belt for it where it was usually sheathed. Sure enough, they had given it back to him before letting him crawl away. He took it out and began to feel parts of his body with his other hand.
"I know they chipped me," he said. "They let me go to track me back to the prison. Your old Champion has taken it over and they want to find her so they can do who knows what. It's as small as a grain of rice these days, but sticking it in my neck is the most obvious. It's probably...there."
Arthur rolled his tattered plaid sleeve up and gently broke the skin on his upper arm, digging a little until he found it. He was right. It was as small as a grain of rice, used mainly for tracking, while Morai's slightly larger square chip carried more technological capabilities.
"She did what?" Nanu asked. "She's out?"
"She ain't going anywhere," Arthur replied. "Unless the beast can fly, she's stuck until Team Rocket finds her, and the protocol is to shut all of our devices down and sever what little connection they had to the mainlands. Everything I know so far has come from Team Rocket, and it ain't much, but I'm sure my guys have it under control. My wife and daughter were there. When I get my hands on her, I'll strangle—"
"You won't, because you're not going back," Nanu interjected. "You'll lead them straight to her."
"I can be deceptive," the agent replied, slightly offended. "I've got family there that could use an extra hand in getting that brat under control. Not that you'd know much about that."
Considering Arthur's situation, Nanu let the jab slide, eyeing his "family" of Meowth scattered sleepily about his place.
"Hey, Nanu's got plenty of family," Guzma growled, grabbing the kit he just found. "I've got a whole town who's got a bone to pick with anyone who says otherwise."
"Right," Arthur sighed sarcastically. "I've got to go back. I'm going to put together a small team and fly there before Interpol launches their inevitable attack. I've got to get a hold of one of our pilots first, and that'll take a few days. Want in?"
Nanu looked around the room.
"You know me, Art," he sighed. "I don't get involved in that stuff anymore unless I'm dragged into it by force."
"Your old friend is heading for dark times, Nanu," Arthur argued.
"She's different now," Nanu said. "I got a notice in the database the other day. Her old Trainer ID is null and void, and the person it belonged to is deceased. Morai doesn't have one. She might as well not exist. I'm guessing the Internationl Police wanted to get rid of her identity so it'd be easier to do whatever they were going to do."
"We were going to take care of her, at least, knowing her background," Arthur said. "That scientist at Team Rocket is nuts. There's no telling what they're about to do, but whatever it is, it doesn't bode well for her. You hate Team Rocket almost as much as I do. If she's heading into the pitch black either way, the least you could do for your friend's memory is ensure that Team Rocket doesn't completely desecrate it."
Nanu thought for a moment. There was a reason he didn't get too close to people. It was easier to let them go that way. But Arthur was right. Morai, or the person that came before her at least, had been one of the few people that weren't as easy to let go of. He didn't like to think about it too much. When she had come to defend her title, he almost treated her like a stranger. But there was a small glimmer of familiarity behind those eyes when they weren't flaring red. The retired agent tilted his head back in a big sigh as his shoulders slumped more than they already were.
"...Alright," he said. "One last time, to stick it to Giovanni."
"That's more like it," Arthur smiled, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
"Uh, hello? Officer Nanu?" a voice called. The head of a young girl peered into the entryway.
"Yeah, kid? What is it?" Nanu asked.
"I'm here for the Grand Trial," she answered.
"Oh wow, really?" he sighed. "Haven't done one of those in a while. You cleared the two trials?"
"Uh-huh," the kid replied.
"Alright then," Nanu groaned as he got up. "I guess I'd better do my job."
Arthur watched as the Kahuna nearly wiped the floor with his challenger outside. It was always a little funny watching him unenthusiastically do the steps required to use a Z-move.
"Geez, you'd think he'd take it a little easier on the next generation," he chuckled.
"Never," Guzma replied. "The third Grand Trial's nothin' to fool around with! He beats 'em down and doesn't let up."
As the challenger returned her last Pokémon to its ball, seeing her disappointed face reminded Nanu of a trainer he battled before.
"Train and get stronger," he said with crossed arms. "Even the Cham—the first Champion had to come back for a rematch. More than one, actually. Losing is where you learn."
"The one that turned evil?" the challenger asked. "What happened to her, anyway? No one ever talks about her anymore."
"She's where she belongs," Arthur said from the sidelines. He had gotten a piece of fruit from the counter and was cutting it with his knife.
"But what does that mean?" the girl pressed.
"Prison," he replied as he chewed.
"What did she do?"
"Don't you listen to the news?" Arthur asked. "She went mad and went on a violent spree across several regions. Those are crimes, and they land you in prison. She's dangerous and should be kept far away from society, which is where she is."
"But I heard that wasn't really her. It was someone else. Morai. The Mask Maker or whatever. That's why our Champion is in the Hall of Fame and Morai isn't."
"The name doesn't matter," Arthur said with a shake of his head. "Morai was once the Champion, she changed, and now she's a violent criminal. The person she was is gone and the only person to be held responsible for her crimes is her."
"But if she took something that made her change...is it really her fault? I heard that she was forced to take it to fight off Team Rocket and couldn't stop after that."
"She made the choice to take it," Arthur argued, getting agitated. "We can take into account the circumstances that led her to do it, but in the end it doesn't matter. She willingly took it again and again and committed countless crimes under its influence. And guess what! Even without it she's still a beast. It's scarred her brain forever and she's irredeemable. Your Champion's gone, kid. I thought the world had already held their funerals."
The trainer looked to the ground as she frowned and dug her feet around in the dirt.
"You can take her place," Nanu said. "Be the hero she was. Just go train for it."
As the girl trudged away, Arthur shook his head.
"Maybe we should start broadcasting everything she does," he said before spitting on the ground. He had abandoned his fruit and was pacing around instead. "She was a hero! She saved us! Well, now she's a cannibalistic demon who can't go a day without trying to rip someone to shreds. We could put up the pictures of the nurses and guards who left the island after getting mauled. Hell, all we would have to do now is show people a picture of her! Why can't anyone grasp the fact that whoever she was before doesn't matter?"
"Take it easy," Nanu said. "You're not helping your injuries getting all riled up. We've all got a common enemy here, including her, and it's Team Rocket."
"Oh, she'll kiss up to them as long as it takes to get off that island. She's too dull to realize that she's not leaving without serious consequences."
"What do you mean?" Nanu asked. Guzma had subtly joined the conversation, inching closer with his hands in his pockets.
"My wife and I have been assigned to Morai's case since before her identity was revealed, but Giovanni's been dealing with her for much longer. Heck, as soon as she became The Mask Maker he plucked her off the street and made a deal. He's dumped thousands of dollars into making her what she is. She probably hates him, but that won't matter. I don't exactly know what we were going to do with her either, but it's better us than them."
They both eyed each other. Neither path was good, especially not for Morai, and they knew it.
