"I'm unsure what is confusing about this."

"You said... weeks."

"Correct. Give or take a few days, if my memory serves me right," explained the Sinnoh investigator. "It truly is odd how the time flies."

The last few hours had been… rough.

After Fennekin had come down for the emotional downpour, the vixen had curled into a ball, light snoring now rising from my lap. Looker had taken the liberty to ensure I was stable enough to resume questioning. Although I was initially hesitant, I reasoned that remaining impassive would do little, even if the thick miasma of somberness lingered in my chest. Fortunately, the officer was kind enough to answer a few of my own in turn. It was the answers I received that rooted the seed of dread.

"Is that an issue?"

I let out a long, contemplative sigh. "In some ways, yes." Speech was thankfully reduced to a mild irritation to the back of my throat.

"Are you comfortable elaborating on that?"

I thought to myself for a moment before softly shaking my head. Although he didn't indicate it, I felt a twinge of disappointment from the man.

"It feels like it's only been a day, yet a full year at the same time."

"That's likely your mind playing a trick on you. Often when a person is in critical condition, their senses become warped and disoriented. That would include your, erm, 'internal clock'. Unless some intervention were present, feelings lose their reliability.

"That reminds me, the state you were in when arriving at the hospital. The list of injuries, well... to put it simply, I've seen resilient people succumb to less," Looker coughed into his fist awkwardly. "I have to say, speaking to me as you are now is a miracle on its own." He commented, raising his eyebrows slightly as though hearing his own words for the first time.

Glancing to my right, I observed Looker swiftly scribbling into his notepad, withdrawing it almost mechanically. The behavior drew an internal eyebrow raise. I knew that my case was — evidently — interesting, but the haste embedded in the man's fingers seemed ill-suited. There is only so much to be had from a handful of cursory statements.

Although lacking a notepad in my hands, I too was able to scrounge some from our exchange.

The first piece gathered was that I had been taken to the region of Kalos, as evidenced by Fennekin and the existence of Santalune Forest, which I had, allegedly, arrived within the inner sanctum of. At the very least my conscience could rest on the question of "where" being fulfilled.

Secondly, and at the time more pertinent than the first, Looker was tenacious. Almost terrifyingly so.

As fate would have it, Looker wasn't exaggerating about taking as long as necessary. He and I had been talking for some time, mainly going off of the receding glimmers of light retreating from the window sill. I wasn't sure how many hours he had spent trying to chip away at my unresponsive state following Fennekin's meltdown, but it had occupied a majority of my memory of being conscious in the facility. Evidently, that included most of the remaining daylight too. Not once did the man tap his foot on the floor, nor even a steeple of fingers on laminated countertop.

Nurse Joy herself seemed to share the operative's patience, even if her concern over my well being challenged it at times. While I was trapped in my own unresponsive trance, the attendant had tried to coerce Looker out the door. Much to her chagrin, he replied with a blunt "I have time" and seated himself in the lobby. I had partially figured it was the same technique he used when I first came-to. The idea of Looker being in the room when I initially awoke being a mere coincidence was just too much of a jump in logic to write off.

Third, I had already been stranded for a minimum of five weeks in this world. That bit of info was… well, I couldn't quite accept it.

I was taken into the center's care at the beginning of dusk after passing out, a time of respite for the pokemon center as most trainers usually began to settle down for the day to prepare dinner. I reasoned that the figure I'd seen amidst the haze was the one responsible for my salvation, as few were in the streets at the time. A miracle in its own right, and one I wasn't soon to forget.

What was also a miracle was my rate of recovery, which, oddly, astounded me for different reasons than the other two. I estimate the average recovery time needed for a burn victim typically lasted well over two months. Considering I had been dealing with nearly a third of my being swathed in flames and a plethora of other wounds, my body was mere inches from giving up entirely.

Yet, within four weeks, I was fully coherent and regained fine motor function across a majority of my body. Granted, the technology within the pokemon world was far more advanced than Earth's own. Regardless, I cut that time in half.

Thankfully, none of the cuts from the brawl had caused enough damage to require surgery, which I hailed as a boon. I wasn't fond of spending anymore weeks confined to a bed too small to properly accommodate me.

While my recovery was an interesting topic to stew on, I continuously caught my mind sliding back to Looker's previous comment.

'... speaking to me as you are now is a miracle on its own.'

How had I managed to survive for so long?

The question just didn't seem to make much sense. No answer I came up with seemed to satisfy it.

I recalled an article I had read about two weeks prior to my last memory discussing the human body's limit tolerance for trauma before utterly failing. Placing myself into context with the article, I doubted that any of the authors had much experience in the medicinal field, or were at best vaguely familiar. At least the articles were effective in describing the chances of survivability, even if they were repetitive.

Frankly, if I had let myself collapse when entering Santalune, then I'd have never stood again.

I would have never woken up.

A foreboding gust passed through my soul.

That same line of thinking brought me to another discovery. Surprisingly, this world was a collage of Pokemon properties. Some aspects of what I found seemed to coincide with the anime, while others aligned themselves with the games. I tried to draw upon the distorted image of what the town had looked like when I arrived, but that was met swiftly with a pained flicker and a swirling headache. My guess was that it partially explained why I sustained wounds from pokemon attacks and how Ash remained unscathed in the anime — at least, he was at the end of moves on many occasions before casually shrugging them off — and now a bit of my own world's physics had transferred over.

Why or how this came to be was completely beyond me.

"Pardon my impatience, but you have yet to answer my question." Looker commented, huffing at my blank stare.

I blinked away the clutter occupying my head. "Oh. Come again?"

"Concerning your… most recent activities." An exhausted stare was leveled with him. "That you can recall, that is."

Recognition dawned upon me in a soft grunt. "You would like to know what my soonest memory was, aside from the woods."

"Correct."

With every passing moment I could feel his intensity bearing down on me. I had half a mind to spin a yarn, but the lumbering fatigue wrapping my person suggested that keeping track of anything other than memories would be ill advised.

Looker seemed to read the slight give in my face. "This poses a problem?"

"Kind of. It's hard to say."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure I even can."

"I am asking for you to try."

I winced slightly from the singe accompanying my frown. "Even I think it's absurd."

Looker seemed less than enthused with the answer. Although, I may have misread his expression.

"Believe it or not, I have had to deal with my fair share of absurdities in my line of work. I am willing to listen."

In another time, I would've rounded his adamant tone. But by then, any inkling of fight left had been thoroughly snuffed long ago.

The welt of dread in my chest pulsed.

"Alright. Fine," I sighed, defeat seeping into my breath. "But I need something."

Looker raised a brow. "And what might they be?"

"Nurse Joy, if we could, um, have some privacy. I would like for you to... escort Fennekin outside with you, too. Just for a moment, please."

Sharing skeptical glances, the officer reluctantly nodded his head. The stewardess looked as though an argument was building behind those eyes, but the words died on her lips as she stepped forward to receive the dozing pokemon from my arms. With the furry package rocking back and forth in her arms, Nurse Joy exited the room.

'That would be one wrinkle hammered out. Hopefully he understands how much I ask.'

"There." I paused. Looker eyed me cautiously, rolling his hand. "I'll try to be clear. What leaves my mouth will be heard by only us. This isn't for you or I, or either of the two outside."

Lord, did I hate it.

The methodic breaths of an observant, yet wary mind sizing up the looming weight before them. The rigidity in the man's shoulders masking the offput twitch of his fingers. The narrowed creases bordering an aged and wise stare that could see everything in between, but not the beginning or the end.

It stabbed me.

"Explain, please." was all he said.

Heh. Stabbed me right in the heart that I couldn't tell him outright.

"Would you put an foreign, survivalist organism into a land with plentiful resources and few predators? How do you mute the mighty rumble of a lightning bolt with your hands?" I swallowed back the climbing tremors.

"How do you retrace your steps when the cliff crumbles behind you? It's that. It's an impossible question. You don't ask people for logical fallacies, because answers aren't piles of rhetoric. They're physical, they're supposed to solve something. Even 'maybe' is an answer, even if it doesn't tell anything. Rhetorical questions only leave answers that occupy space that isn't there. You can't give an answer to a question that can't be answered, or you waste time."

I shifted my posture, running a few fingers along the thick fuzz coating my chin. "I want to give an answer. But if that answer only creates a chain of looping questions, what good does it do?"

The man's serious exterior warped into one of befuddlement, then astonishment.

"I think you see," came the faintest glimmer of a smile.

"I want nothing more than to go home, and leave these questions behind. But, that's the problem. Can't really go back if the tracks you're looking for shouldn't have existed."

As Looker processed my words, I craned my neck to the rising ruckus in the hallway just beyond the room's doors. The sounds of muffled grunts meddled with irritated yips as the scuffle mounted. After around a minute of tussling, the noises died down.

A particularly tired and aggravated Nurse Joy wrenched the door back open, the cap of her uniform now haphazardly perched on her head. The once brilliant white of the stewardess' apron was now littered with all manner of cuts and signs of struggle, her forearms bearing similar shallow scratches.

A few steps behind the nurse came a fuming Fennekin, eyes still hazy from her rude awakening. Her fur was ruffled and mangy, the small scar divots in her pelt partially covered from the displaced hairs.

The tiny fox pokemon took a robotic stroll to the bedside and slung herself onto the frame's smooth railing. With her back half still draped over the bars, her back legs scrambled for purchase along the edge for a moment before flopping to her back. Fennekin brushed herself off with a quick shake, curling back up beside my stomach. She blew out a thin gust of smoke from her nostrils, finally setting her head down. Mere seconds had passed and she was out cold.

The hints of amusement flickered around my chest.

"Well, that was the meat of it. At least we know she doesn't appreciate being moved without permission," came my hollow joke.

Nurse Joy wasted no time leaving the room.

The fox merely stirred for a moment in response, tail tickling my nose as it brushed by.

"Your claim, while it is especially apocryphal, holds strong." Looker coughed, drawing my attention. I returned an exhausted nod. "However," he added, "While there is no discrepancy with what has been said; I, too, have a few points to bring to light. You've proven yourself to be a smart young man, so I can only assume you've pieced together that I was not stationed in Kalos with the intention of learning your origins. I mean no disrespect towards you, there are simply other matters."

"None taken." I replied. It wasn't as if an unintentional jab would do much to my psyche at the moment. However, the operative's words echoed internally.

'So, he did have other business. It makes sense at least. Half of me is glad that I'm not fully on the radar yet, and the other half is itching to hear what drew the attention of Interpol. I can only imagine it's Team Flare's doing. He did mention them already, anyway. The question is, when in the timeline am I?'

Looker then withdrew a miniature tablet from a brown satchel resting beside his chair. He quickly swiped through the device before presenting it.

Displayed on the screen was the symbol for a video playback of a news broadcast. I vaguely recognized the logo from the monitors in the pokemon center's lobby.

Hm.

"Discretion is advised," the detective added.

When the video began to play, the rapid whirring of helicopter blades blared through the speakers. A pale, blond-haired woman sat in front of the camera from the safety of the helicopter hovering in the sky, blue cardigan billowing in the gusts. The microphone was grasped as if she would plummet to her death were she to let it go. A ghastly terror had taken custody of her color-devoid features, her attention locked on the scene playing out below.

As if on cue, the camera panned down to the tree line, focusing in and out from the overcast night sky. Even though the feed was grainy, I felt my breath hitch at the grizzly sight. I mustered what remaining willpower I had to control the quivering in my core.

Acres of trees and wilderness were swirling in a hellish inferno, mounds of sickly smoke spouting into the now gray sky. What appeared to be miles of forest had been completely consumed by fire, a large deposit of stone and dirt lying a few hundred meters away from the helicopter. Luckily, the craft had flown clear of the fumes, but a single peek was all it took to turn my insides. Hopefully the shambling outlines on the ground were only firefighters. So much destruction… for what?

"We at PokeBC are here, live over the spreading wreckage of what was once the beautiful woodlands surrounding Glittering Cave, bringing you, ergh– bringing footage of an ongoing disaster! It seems th- that an enormous forest fire has erupted from seemingly nowhere! Local authorities and officials are doing all they can to contain the flames, but–"

A gut-wrenching explosion rocked the helicopter. The camera feed began to fizz and jolt around sporadically from the force. Choirs of beeps and whirring could be heard from within the cockpit followed by frantic shouting.

The anchor raised her microphone again. "Sources are now coming in that this is an act of intentional terrorism on Kalos, the assailants are unknown as of this moment. Resi- wha! Ahem, ur– residents in Ambrette Town, Camphrier Town, and Cyllage City are advised to remain indoors or seek shelter if able and evacuate routes as quickly as possible. More updates on the situation will arrive soon–" The video concluded as Looker turned the device back around and exited the playback.

...

I sat there. The pixels were engraved in my mind. I ran a hand along my left arm, still as a statue.

The flames had– well, they just... kept burning. Even though the pixels remained stagnant, I felt the heat radiating from the screen. My lungs were tight and shrunken, struggling to let me draw breath. I could almost taste the charred remains of the crumbling forest, the splintering bark still smoking on my tongue.

"Norman?"

Good god…

"Stay with us, my friend. Are you alright?"

I blinked, and down came a freezing splash of reality. A quick sputter opened my airways once again, slowly releasing the tense hand gripping the bed rail for dear life. The hammering in my chest began to slow.

"I…" My eyes flit around the bed. "I don't know."

My well being was clear, but Looker thankfully didn't press further. The detective cocked his head to the side with pursed lips.

"You aren't alone in your horror. It's created quite the conundrum, coupled with how a motive has been revealed yet. Most conventional casualties such as fossil pilfering were deemed improbable. No man, even with assistance from technology or Pokemon, could venture through that with valuables of any sort. Teleportation would be pointless, when considering how the cave is at the heart. Teleporting out of harm's way would be too far. Fear tactics have yet to be ruled out, but I personally believe this is an inaccurate judgment." He grimaced.

I, on the other hand, was lost in thought.

'This... this throws a wrench into everything. A large wrench. I don't recall Team Flare ever acting this brazenly, especially so soon. All they did before was block off the cave itself. The worst that happened was minor assault and stealing, not spur a blasted forest fire...'

I shook my head, shifting the topic. 'I'll need to tread with care from now on. Hell, what am I getting wrapped up in? Lord knows what may happen should I become entangled in that mess.'

"Norman." Looker called.

He received an affirmative grunt.

"Are you okay to continue?"

A beat passed, and I swallowed the stupor. Out came an exhausted sigh, and on we went.

…had either of us known what to say next.

The two of us sat in an awkward silence for a while, both partially drinking in the moment.

Eventually, I finally found my tongue. "I don't think this went how you might've expected."

To my mild surprise, the detective chuckled. "Hm. There wasn't much expectation to begin with, but that didn't matter all too much."

"S'pose." I ran a hand along my chin and the odd protrusion surrounding the remnants of my left ear. "I didn't expect to have half a beard on my chin and who-knows-what buzzing where my ear should be."

"That would be the device responsible for preventing your eardrum from rupturing by a morning breeze. From what I did hear, it won't be visible after installation, but the nurses needed to make sure that the regenerating tissue accepted it and grew correctly. Er, unintentional word play aside."

I didn't react, tapping into the residual tingles. They seemed to dance along my cheek in line with my fingers. "It still burns, you know."

"My condolences."

"Hmph." I waved it off. "Isn't much that can be done, I guess. If this is what I'll have to deal with..."

"You have my respect, then. There aren't many in the world who can regard permanent damage in a flippant manner."

One hand massaged my already tired eyes. A puff blew from my nose. "It's better than most alternatives for now, but I'm not sure how long I can hold onto that."

"That it is. Best to try and foster the ideal response while you can."

"I guess. I wouldn't know how to respond to a wildfire after running into trouble identifying a victim."

Looker shook his head. "Not quite. You see, what I presented– it happened approximately two days before you were... discovered. But, it seems I have no need to delve further."

That statement threw me for a loop.

"Delve further?" I repeated wearily, glancing to the form and clipboard the detective silently slid me. The paper clipped in bore the words "RESIDENCE VISA" in bold, demanding letters.

I sent a sideways glance back to the stone-faced officer, searching for a foothold.

"Pardon the wording. Believe it or not, there is a second reason I can place faith in what you've told me, Norman. I wouldn't be where I am today otherwise. During your period of, um, recuperation, the Kalosian League called for a thorough investigation for any possible suspects encountered linking to Team Flare or seemingly suspicious individuals. With the rather horrific event, I think you can gather why. However, no matter how much the Joys and I searched, not one fact of information could be found anywhere about you. We were left, completely and utterly, mystified."

I knew Looker was a smart man. He was shown to be as much should his extensive, if not perilous track record was to go by. Certainly the kind of person who practically bled determination and craftiness.

Although, never once had I spotted Looker as the sort of person to catch on to a discrepancy that quick. Perhaps basing the game's portrayal of the character– no, portrayal of the man wasn't a sturdy basis. Maybe I was just too foolish to give him the credit he deserved.

He was the detective, after all. I was not.

"I will be blunt. I don't particularly enjoy divulging information that civilians aren't initially privy to. As far as the world is concerned, you've never existed. That is, until now. If you would be so kind, my friend, I want you to fill out a few sheets of paperwork regarding your personal information and background, mainly to prevent you from rousing any unneeded attention for as long as possible. It would also be helpful if I had a name to work with." He sternly requested. "A full name."

I winced internally at the realization that despite my — albeit unintentionally — cryptic responses, Looker had managed to press a diamond from coal.

Had my face had room for anything aside from the crushing weight on my soul, I might have stared in astonishment. I mean it– sincerely, too.

"If I may add, you've been rather quiet. Something on the mind, young man?" The detective asked.

My eyebrows furrowed. Looker picked up that he wasn't going to receive a response to that.

"I apologize, a bad question. I suppose what I meant by this is that you've taken much of what I have told you quite well, despite the circumstances. I simply wanted to ask how you are, though that seems to be, um… somewhat redundant."

Honestly, I wasn't quite sure what to make of that. It certainly broke me from my stupor.

"Is that so much to believe?"

"No, I… I mean. Hmph. I wouldn't be surprised if I woke up next in a mental hospital after tonight." I muttered, dread pressing harder upon my shoulders. Something still niggled my insides though.

I released a sigh. "Sir, I–"

"Formalities are unnecessary. Just 'Looker' will do."

"I… mm. Alright, Looker. Just, one last question."

"Go right ahead."

"I get it's outside of your field, but is pokemon data usually distributed by Kalos' Pokemon Professor?"

Looker queried an unreadable look at me. An aspect of the man I was rapidly picking up on was the absence of reactions. No matter what was thrown at him, he never seemed to vary too much from an icy gaze of seriousness or thick, pointed eyebrows. Aside from what he wanted others to see, this detective refused to let anyone see past a few cracks. I hated to admit it, but the man refused to budge even an inch. At all.

"Not necessarily, but I do understand your inquiry. And despite the... unique circumstances, I cannot fathom an instance of the professor lending a spare pokedex to someone not currently registered as a Lab Trainer."

'Shit.'

I allowed myself to careen back onto the pillows of the bed. Fennekin shifted at the movement, irritated at the disturbance. Looker sat back down across the room and picked up his mug of lukewarm coffee, the heat long gone from the lengthy exchange.

Scenarios swam in my head through the static confusion of my situation. What would happen if I simply told Looker everything? What would he be able to do? What do I do with myself?

Hm.

"Looker. Have you been here long?"

"Can you elaborate further? I'm not sure I follow."

"How long have you lived in Kalos."

It was subtle. Most would have missed the new crease lining the detective's otherwise stoneface. It was enough.

"I'm not familiar with Kalos. But you seem to be," I shrugged halfheartedly. "Considering your insight."

He gave no reaction.

"I was hoping to learn what borders Kalos. There isn't much else around that can tell me."

The officer appeared briefly deep in thought. "That would be Galar. However, leaving will be difficult without proper paperwork."

"...a passport."

Looker nodded with a sip. "Among other identification."

For a while, the room was silent.

"Thanks."

"Of course. Do you have business there?"

"…No."

"Oh. Alright, then."

"…"

I massaged the dry sting from my eyes. "What else."

"What else?"

"What do you want." I phrased more as a flat statement than a question.

"Excuse me?"

"I won't repeat myself. What else do you need from me. I have nothing to help you."

The steely emotional guise held strong. "You've already helped me more than you know. There is plenty that you can do."

"And there would be more to help with your case where it happened with more pressing leads, rather than 'half the region over'." I said dryly. "If you were only here to identify me, there would be a normal officer, not a high-ranking detective."

No response. I took the silence as a pass to continue.

"It makes no sense. If you wished to only help, then there wouldn't be as much urgency. Police don't just 'take interest' in an accident and a man without a penny to his name."

With every deduction, Looker's jaw tightened. Vexed sparks crackled in his chocolate eyes before being extinguished.

"You already concluded that I wasn't a suspect. And you haven't left."

Fennekin nudged my hand curiously, tilting her ears to the side. I motioned to guess she was now interested as well. Either that or she wanted for me to shut my mouth. I took it as the first option regardless.

A sigh heaved out my chest. My bones creaked and groaned as I sat up, glossy gaze matching Looker's.

"You are here to ask me questions, for whatever reason. Ask."

I saw a few ideas cross the man's mind, but none came out. Eventually he asked, "Have I done something wrong?"

"Just ask what you have to."

"Alright, I will. I can. But, please– I'm here to help you with this situation."

I cleared a stretch of phlegm gathering in my throat. "Then maybe you can provide me with what I need."

"I apologize for the interruption, but forging trainer licenses far exceeds my jurisdiction. I refuse to condone illegal activities." Looker responded coldly. He leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes as though he were exhausted.

'God damn it, Looker.'

"That's not what I meant-"

He didn't waver. "You don't have to back out of your intentions, if that was what you had wanted. It's alright. It won't be held ag–"

"Let me speak."

The rest of the detective's sentence died on his lips. I hadn't raised my voice, but it had come out more demanding than I would've liked. After a moment, Looker clamped his jaw shut.

My posture relaxed some. "That wasn't what I meant. What I need is my home. As it stands, I can't go back. I need resources."

Looker adjusted his seat. "And would they be?"

Ah. I see you've returned, ache in my heart.

"...I don't know." I took a deep breath. "Basic needs, of course. But beyond that…"

I'd been trying not to think about it much, but it was too large to ignore. The faint glimmer of hope in my chest, writhing against the cold reality, was fighting. It was fighting for some way to keep going. It wanted so desperately to live and have something to fuel it. But as much as it searched, there wasn't anything around.

If anything, it was just grasping blindly now. It really wanted something, even if that something wasn't entirely real. It needed something.

"That's it, Norman, yes. That need. If you can just say it, then I can get you that help. That's all."

I just stared at him. I didn't know what else to say.

It was sickening, not being able to say anything. I honestly wanted to, but all that happened was a swing of the jaw, then it shut again. I couldn't even speak.

So, I just stared at him.

That was all I could do.

"Well then. Norman," Looker softly declared, voice laced with a forced calm. "If you believe this is where we should stop, then alright. We can stop. Our conversation has been very enlightening. Now that matters have been addressed, I must be going." And with that, Looker dusted himself off, collected the partially-filled clipboard, and strode over to the door. "Perhaps we will be in contact again soon."

'Wait.'

'Please, wait.'

I had to do something. So I did.

"Sometimes, I think about Cyrus. Or, what the world would've looked like."

I had realized it much too late.

I needed that man. I needed him horribly. Looker was the only person in the literal world who knew my name. The detective in the room, nearly out the door himself, was the only person alive knowing that I was alive.

I could feel my heart throbbing the closer he came to the door handle. He had connections. He had resources and aid at his side. He had stayed after getting his answers because his heart forced him to care, no matter how hard he tried to mask it beneath professionality. He wanted to help, and he wanted to do right by the wronged.

I had nearly driven him off. I couldn't bring myself to let that happen.

I needed that man.

Looker stopped halfway through the door, snapping his head around so fast his neck nearly snapped. "How–"

One glance at me, and whatever was about to pass from his mouth had died for a second time. His bitterness seared like the caffeine staining the rim of his mug. I couldn't exactly place his full reaction on the subject though. Whether it was from his naturally tight guard or my lack of coherence, I'm not sure. I was fairly sure of one thing though.

It was fleeting, but I swore I saw it. I could see it for just a moment in the man's eyes. He had seen me with a look of empathy.

What fight Looker had built internally just...wilted.

I had to ask him.

"Don't leave yet. Please, don't."

If I had any question on whether or not the detective had felt for my words, that sentence solved it. His whole body seemed to crumble– the stoicism, the articulated posture, all of it.

He just looked lost.

"Norman, you are… you're really pressing farther than you should. It would be within both our best interests to drop this for now."

For a while, we simply regarded each other. Neither of us had much else to say.

It took all I had to not buckle inward on myself. By then though, there was little left to buckle into. It was difficult to hear the raw honesty coming from his voice.

He glanced back with an unreadable expression, eventually ambling towards the chair. His gaze shifted between Fennekin and I, who had silently witnessed the dispute. Part of me sympathized for the tiny pokemon, wondering how she had the patience to sit calmly while her… whatever I was to her had utterly lost in life.

Oh, the things I'd have done to trade places with her at that moment.

The hardened officer studied the floor. The air seemed so thick with tension that even a Weezing would choke on it. His mind was elsewhere, still taking in the heated exchange we had wrought.

At some point I had unconsciously latched a hand onto one of Fennekin's thin paws, something she quickly took notice of but had never bothered to move. She placed her head on the softly quivering hand, the vixen's focus trained on the detective seated at the opposite of the room.

...

"...just tell me when you finish." He sighed, defeat dragging in his voice.

Guilt clawed at my gut as Looker handed me the forms back. I kept my eyes on the questions. I didn't have it in me to make eye contact again.

The first page mainly consisted of basic questions like my first and last name, age, height, etcetera. Simple enough, nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn't until the "current residence" question that I began to run into trouble.

'What should I put? 'N/A'? Homeless?'

I kept staring at the paper, waiting for it to magically fill itself.

'To think, filling out a simple sheet would be so… intricate.'

The box was left blank. My pencil hovered to the next question.

A curious and moist muzzle nudged its way underneath the hard plastic, followed by two bright red eyes. She began to nose her way in between me and the clipboard to see what sorts of neat activities I had been up to, but didn't find much of interest.

The rest of the sections were left either blank or "not available".

Only one other sheet caught my eye as I mindlessly filed out the papers. The page was under a subsection of personal belongings, marked simply as "Pokemon" followed by six open boxes and a smaller section marked "Trainer ID". Luckily, I was able to leave the trainer ID box empty as I focused on the Pokemon name box.

'And now there's an impasse. If I mark Fennekin's name down in this box, then it'll probably register her as a pokemon of mine, but I don't know if she wants to come with me. No, that's not right. She clearly does. It's really a matter of should she come with me. Eh, if things come down to it, I could leave her to Looker. I don't even know the basics of pokemon care regardless. Helluva trainer I'd be.'

I glanced down to the curious pokemon beside me and held the paper at an angle to let the fennec have a view.

Fennekin studied the offering, then me.

"So, you can't read."

The pokemon flicked her nose side to side.

"...right. Eherm. This asks for your name. What do you want?"

Fennekin cocked her head to the side. Did she not expect to be given a nickname? Did she even know what one was?

I twirled my hand in a circle, trying my best to conjure an explanation. "Y'know, a nickname. Something special to call you. I don't want to continue calling you 'Fennekin' for long."

Recognition dawned upon the pokemon as she nodded eagerly, sinking down and stretching out her back with a few pops down her back. Her body rocked back forward, a few mumbles of 'fennekin' mixed with yips following suit. The fennec ended it by pawing at her ear, batting away hairs.

Fennekin stared at me, which I did to her too.

Eventually, the creature let out a drawn whine, looking between the paper and I.

I wasn't sure if it was just the blur of motion, but it looked for a moment like the fox's face had a slightly red hue. For a moment, the cold feeling in my chest spurred with a pinch of warmth.

I sighed, waving a hand and thumping the edge of the tiny pokemon's ear. I sat in silence for a moment, the gears in my head churning.

Then, I had a fleeting moment of inspiration.

"How do you feel about Fenway?"

Fennekin chewed over the question with the occasional twitch of an ear. Finally, with one definitive "Fin!", we had it.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the pokemon's jubilation.

Honestly, the fluffy little creature baffled me. One moment, she was a timid child with no interest in anyone, and the next moment her eyes were full of wonder and excitement. Somehow she even understood a few nuanced concepts. Weird.

The rest of the papers were finished shortly after. As I placed the clipboard down on the nightstand on my right, Looker reluctantly stood from his slump and retrieved the papers. He gave them a quick once-over, then placed them back in his satchel. With his back turned and coat adjusted, he walked to the door.

"This has been quite the… interesting meeting. I wish you a stable recovery Norman, and now, I'll be taking my leave. Good day." The detective said, swiftly departing. He had never turned back to look at me, but from how he had slumped in his chair, I could see the effects I'd had. My heart ached as I thought about our interaction.

A muffled conversation began to wobble in from the hallway, catching our ears. After a few minutes of discussion, faint footsteps trailed off down the hall that were closely followed by Nurse Joy peeking through the doorway. She did a quick sweep of the room before stepping in to check for any other surprises, soon traveling to the foot of my bed.

The nurse gave a polite bow. "I apologize for any trouble Detective Looker may have caused you, he's been rather stressed lately. Are you and Fennekin alright sir?"

I blinked, glanced at the chair, then rolled my jaw. "We're fine."

Nurse Joy nodded back silently, readying a tray she had stationed on the counter. I couldn't make out much more than a few pill bottles or syringes from the distance, but the contents weren't as bothering as the gnawing that resided at the bottom of my gut.

Fenway stirred in my lap, slumbering peacefully on my belly. I stared at the pokemon, expression blank. She seemed so calm back then, and as I observed her dozing there wasn't a care in the world to her.

Part of me envied her trust and confidence. The other part of me wanted to grasp onto her for dear life and crumble into a heap.

But all I could do was slide down in my bed and yawn.

'I suppose I'm in for the long haul with you now.'

I let that sit for a moment.

'Fine then.'

As the attendant finished setting up her assortment of medical utensils, she turned to administer treatment only to find a pair of exhausted souls, swaddled in a deep sleep.

For the first time since she stepped in the room that morning, Nurse Joy's smile wasn't forced.


"Twenty years old… 203 centimeters… green eyes… Maybe it was the truth, but..." the frustrated man murmured, peering at the screen of the laptop, then back to the packet strewn across his desk. There had to be more somewhere; a thread of purchases under his name, a previous travel record– even a vague sighting was a hint he was willing to jump on by then.

The detective had been scanning over each page thoroughly for nearly two hours now, leaning back in his seat as he wiped his eyes in annoyance.

At least there was more decaf in the coffee pot if he began to drift off again. The last thing he needed was to smudge up the forms that took oh so much work to acquire. A weary sigh escaped through the man's lips as he tried to recall something — anything — to explain what could have caused such a headache.

...

He had been in the region for only a month and a half before receiving a report of an unidentified man arriving in Santalune City's pokemon center. At first he wanted to wave off the problem as some punk "losing" their Trainer ID after licking the wounds of a lost battle.

The officer had already been bombarded with instances just like it from disheveled nurses that either didn't know how to properly access the ID classification archives or lazy officers who'd rather pawn off their work to another poor soul. He ended up trashing the request and shutting off his laptop, content with a brief bit of relaxing before closing up. Today had already been rough enough, what with having to deal with plenty of Flare nut jobs and being forced to endure an agonizingly long virtual debrief with the deputies and police chiefs of Lumiose and Anistar City.

Besides, there was local law enforcement. They had jobs. He had his.

The next day, the man received another message from the center, this time urging him to visit again. Apparently, the matter was still unresolved. This only drew more irritation out of the detective as he once again trashed the message.

He wasn't just any officer to be dispatched; they should be contacting the Santalune police force instead. But no, the center chose to flood his inbox. He was only in the region for the case he was already on, the one Captain Henrietta assigned him. A case with but a single lead; an enormous energy surge appearing above the western quadrant of Kalos that was leagues higher from anything a natural horde of pokemon could create. Ever since, he only had a crumb of info to dwell on, and dwell he had.

The officer's "dwelling" lasted for the rest of the week, that is, until Sunday as the messages continued to flood in. The man had entered his vacant office for only a few minutes before a call began to resound on his Pokegear. However, one detail seemed to catch the officer's eye.

Rather than a torrent of notifications from the Santalune Pokemon Center, the inbox had been filled with messages addressed from the Santalune Police Station. It piqued his curiosity, sure- but it wasn't enough to detract from. He only accepted assignments from one source, anyway.

A sudden vibration rumbled against the man's thigh. Breathing out a sigh, he haphazardly fished out the device from his pant pocket and snapped it to his ear. Regardless of his energy levels, courtesy is always right. "Hello? May I help you?"

"Of course, Lieutenant. How has the transfer been treating you?" rang a strong feminine voice, the hint of a country accent creeping out. The man began to massage the bridge of his nose as he readjusted himself in his chair.

"Captain. I've been just fine acclimating, no need to worry. If I may– you've never called without prior notice. What would you wish to discuss?" he asked.

"Straight to the point and dead-on. I've taken the liberty to review your findings from the folders and files within your hard drive and SD chip, or rather lack thereof, and understand you've found...nothing.

"I get that in your eyes there is no such thing as a dead case, but the truly wisest course of action would be to wait for another event to arise."

The man began to bite the side of his lip at the suggestion. He'd known it had been well over a month and half. He knew. He only needed a little bit more time to gather evidence and suspects. There must have been a witness to the surge incident, linking thread or not.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I doubt this is a dead-end. I have been assigned under the notion that I could continue where others have forfeit. I know this is possible."

There was a pause over the line.

"I–"

"I am fully aware of my own actions, Lieutenant. I'm not calling to relieve you of the case. Rather, a probable lead was discovered not far off from the site of the disturbance. One of our agencies stationed within Anistar received word from a Pokemon Center in Santalune City that they had recently taken in a patient on death's doorstep. However, this male had no identification on him and not a bit of registration within any database that resided within the Center, nor the League's servers. He's completely off the grid. If anything, I'm more surprised you have yet to hear about it."

The man's chest tightened when the words reached his ear. A mix of emotions swirled within him as his boss continued on.

"I understand your loss has been difficult, and you've been working diligently through it. Moreso than any of our coworkers could. But I must say that if this becomes too big, then you will be relieved of the task and will be… substituted with another team. I'm only doing this because I get it, Lieutenant. I know who you are, what's going on in your head. Just– remember you're human."

"Yes, captain. I understand. You need not worry for me. I've been trimming into the instance as well with the lad, and do know that I'm already in the midst of discovering what I deem to be vital details. There is no fallacy when I assure you that I am fine, ma'am. There's no need to lose much sleep at night." He reassured her. It was all a blatant lie, but the man prayed she would believe it.

A throat was cleared through the speakers. "So, how'd the kid react?"

The man playfully scoffed.

"Huh?"

"It's– it's nothing."

"Alright. Spill."

"That was no child, I assure you."

He could practically see Henrietta's cheek curl into her confused frown. "What's that supposed to mean? Someone got his age wrong?"

"Moreso the term. He may be a young man, yes, but there was no life in those eyes."

"Oh."

"Indeed. But he hasn't given up yet. He's holding on for dear life, but his grip can only be so tight."

"...well, that's some news at least."

The officer chuckled grimly. "Interesting fellow. I don't think I've ever met anyone like him."

She remained silent, making the lieutenant sweat bullets in anticipation. Then, a sigh came over the speaker.

"Don't overdo it, Looker. If you need backup, request it. Arceus knows what this could be, and, hell, it might lead just where we need it to. Who knows. Be cautious." Henrietta finished, light beeping following the message as she hung up. She just wanted the best for both him and the world.

But Looker couldn't bend a knee yet– not when his gut roared at him that there was something.

He knew it.

...

The grizzled officer stared at the ceiling blankly. Norman had left a few of the sections blank, as Looker expected he would. His eyes met one box in particular, a foreign idea growing in the back of his mind.

Looker bent over the desk, running his hands through his hair. No, he shouldn't involve the boy. He'd already collected what he needed, there was no reason to involve him. He doesn't need Norman; he can handle this case on his own too.

It's just like any other. He and Cro-

Oh. Right.

...

Lifting his head, Looker glanced down at the paper, then back up to his computer monitor. Henrietta was right.

He scrolled underneath the "RESIDENCE VISA" sheet, clicking on a single box he had left on his first reviews.

Looker tacked away at his keyboard and hit 'Enter', shaking his head disapprovingly at his own actions. Underneath the 'Current Residence' box there were now two words residing between the pixels.

Looker Bureau


Updated: February 5th, 2023.

Note: I intend on continuing and fixing this fanfiction as much as needed until I finish it, no matter how long it takes.