Chapter 16: Blue

Immaculate.

That was the most appropriate word to describe his office. The bleached walls perfectly matched the white tiled floor. Even his desk only held the essentials: a slim white monitor and a stack of files neatly placed in an upper corner.

Ein took a sip of coffee from his mug—also white, to match the rest of his belongings, and without blemish, as all things should be. He scowled down at the cluster of pages before him, the only things that threw off the tidiness of the place. The pages were yellowed with age, smudged and torn in a few places. He suppressed a shudder; he had been less organized back in the day, less precise, less dignified. But as much as the small coffee stain in one corner haunted him with his former imperfections, he pressed on, scanning the words for any sliver of information as he had done countless times before:

Data Entry Log #132

It has been ten days since administration. The results so far have been...poor, to put it simply. Survival rates are failing to improve despite our many adjustments, though at the very least we can say they are remaining at roughly 50%.

Of our 25 subjects, 10 have perished so far, and we expect 2 more to expire in the coming days. Of the expected 13 survivors, all have shown signs of gaining immunity.

This is promising, but it is not enough. We are still unable to replicate the results of our very first test. My partner continues to insist he is replicating the serum exactly as he did the first time, but I still maintain strong suspicions that he is not divulging everything he knows. This is unacceptable.

Until now, I have always been the one possessing every bit of available knowledge on this team. The thought that someone other than myself has a missing part of the equation and refuses to share is...quite infuriating to me. My patience has now worn thin. I will seek to rectify this imbalance as soon as I am able. I had been hopeful about accomplishing this through more diplomatic means, but, regretfully, I may have to resort to more...convincing methods to get the truth out of him. It seems I have no other alternative.

I will not waver, however. This is for the cause.

Ein hissed softly in frustration and set his mug down—delicately, of course, to avoid even one spilled drop. Emotions could be useful, but they could not be allowed to interfere with his constant precision.

Twenty years. Twenty years of this Arceus-damned research, and he was still no closer to the answers he sought. Even now, his partner's foolish morality was determined to haunt him, to hold him back from obtaining more information.

Damn you, Ian—

"EIN!"

Ein tightened his lips at the distant roar. Gods above, of all the days for this buffon to shove his way into his office—

The door burst open and promptly slammed into the wall. Ein raised his eyes to see his visitor and made a mental note to get someone to buff out the scuff marks later.

"Gonzap," he said dryly. "To what do I owe the marvelous pleasure—"

"We had a deal, Ein!" Gonzap bellowed. His face was splotched red with rage—and half-healed burns, too, it seemed. Such unfortunate blemishes on an already incredibly unfortunate face.

"I have no memory of any deal, dearest Gonzap."

"Don't you 'dearest Gonzap' me," the man hissed. He drew himself up to his full height and crossed his arms, evidently trying to appear as large and menacing as possible. Not that it worked; muscles could only get one so far when they were directed by such pitiful intellect. "What the hell is this about not encroaching on Cipher's territory?"

Ah. This was about that. Ein straightened his glasses and cooly returned Gonzap's gaze. "Precisely that. We've decided to neutralize the threat as quickly and quietly as possible. We cannot afford to let that boy live any longer, and that girl—"

"That's not what we agreed on!" Gonzap's veins were popping now. "I told you I wanted to deal with that bastard myself, didn't I?"

"You want him dead, do you not?"

"Hell yes, I do!"

"Then I fail to understand your complaint. Cipher has already set things in motion to have him eliminated."

BAM. Gonzap's massive fist slammed down onto Ein's desk with enough force to rattle the computers and send several papers fluttering to the floor. Ein's mug bounced from the impact and shattered on the floor, spraying its contents in every direction, staining the polished whiteness—

"You said you would give him to me." Gonzap's face was inches from Ein's now and was rapidly transitioning from scarlet to violet. "We made a deal, you filthy lab rat!"

The coffee continued to pool across the white tiles. Ein's temples throbbed.

Rising slowly from his seat, he maintained Gonzap's stare and replied steadily, his tone laced with ice, "I would be careful, dearest Gonzap, of whom you call a 'lab rat' in these parts. I would hate to take your insubordination as an invitation to turn you into one."

Gonzap paused. He curled his lip at the threat, but there was no mistaking the glint of fear in those feral eyes.

He still knew his place, then. A shame, really. He would make a delightful test subject.

Ein straightened his lab coat. "That deal was then, and this is now. The boy has become a much larger nuisance than any of us have anticipated, and considering your remarkable failure to control your subordinates is what created this predicament, we can no longer afford to entertain your vengeful wishes. Not to mention we now have that girl to deal with."

He suppressed a shiver anticipation at the last sentence. That girl. There were far too many coincidences from the reports about her. She had to be the one, and if so…

If so, he could finally get his answers.

A snarl rose from Gonzap's throat, but Ein silenced him with a raised hand. "However," he said curtly, "should he manage to survive our next attempt, I will negotiate with Nascour on your behalf, on the condition that you never show your hideous face in my lab ever again."

Gonzap blinked for a moment, then barked out a harsh laugh. "That all you want? Hell, it would be my damn pleas—"

"In addition," Ein interrupted sharply, "you will provide me with two extra shipments of subjects. Do that for me, and I'll be sure to keep your little traitor alive just long enough for you to have at him."

"Two?" the larger man snapped. "In case you haven't heard, that bastard blew up all our machines!"

"Not all of them, if I've been informed correctly."

"Yeah, genius. He took the last one with him."

"Is that so?" A smirk danced across Ein's lips. "You failed to mention that to Nascour, Gonzap."

All the deep red hues suddenly drained from Gonzap's face. Ein's grin widened.

"I—that's not—that is to say, we planned to get it back—"

"Ah yes, I'm sure you did. How unfortunate it is that you haven't succeeded yet. Not to worry—I'm certain Nascour will be nothing but understanding once I pass this along."

For once, Gonzap was speechless. Ein relished the fear now etched across every line of his face. Ah, few things were sweeter than watching an inferior being quiver with dread…

"Fortunately for you, I'm feeling generous today." Ein straightened the papers on his desk before looking back up at the man, who had now taken a few steps back from Ein's desk. "Once we give you the boy, you will let me have that girl. Alive. You will also supply us with every subject you have left."

"Them Pokémon were supposed to get shipped to the Under—"

"Dearest Gonzap, I am far more of a threat to you than a few black market peddlers. Do not forget what organization this is." He tipped his head back. "The Under belongs to Cipher."

Gonzap swallowed, then dropped his gaze. "Yes."

"You forgot something."

His jaw clenched. "Yes, sir."

Ein smirked again and stood. "Very good. Now, if you excuse me, I have another project to attend to." As he breezed past his subdued foe, he added lightly, "Oh, and please do fetch a peon to clean up this mess of yours. Tell them if I come back to a single stain, they'll become my newest subject."

The door shut behind him in the sputtering Snagem leader's face.

Hey, it's me again, back for another data entry! Ugh, I don't even know what I'm saying. Who am I even talking to? This feels weird. Wes says to just write what we know so far—and that's what I've been doing, but he says little personal notes like this aren't necessary. So I'll try to keep it more straightforward this time. ;D

Progress remains slow, but there's still progress! The Pokémons' auras are getting brighter and brighter every day. I've noticed that the more often they're out of their balls and interacting with others, both people and Pokémon, the calmer their auras are becoming. Even the more antisocial ones like Marlow (Flaaffy) and Nani (Croconaw) appear to be benefiting from it, which is a huge plus!

Training with them has been even more effective. I suspect it's because it gives them an outlet for all of their negative pent-up energy. Duking and Silva have been trying to keep an even rotation with as many of them as possible so they all get some time to train, but it's been tough with so many...At least Wes' team is able to get consistent training in.

Speaking of Wes' team, they're farther along than any of the others at this point—sometimes the dark aura is barely noticeable! I know they've been with us the longest and have had the most training, but I also think a lot of the credit goes to Wes for how gentle he is with them. He'll never admit it, but I think he's actually a bit soft on them. (Don't you dare erase this part, Wes.) ;)

We've been working a lot with Noctowl in particular lately! We've named her Nyra, and I think she'd be a good fit on Wes' team if he decides to take her in. She has a lot of opening up to do, but that's what I said about Maku and Kohna, and now they keep cuddling up to Wes every chance they get. (He likes to pretend it annoys him, but the other day I caught him putting a blanket in his lap just for Maku. I see right through you, Lycas.)

Even Nani is more cooperative than she used to be...well, most of the time, anyway. I think she's even warming up to Neo a little? So I'm sure Nyra will make progress, too. I mean, if Nani can, then I think anybody can, right?

Duking has noticed something that's caused us some concern, though. He says it looks like several of the Pokémon are well past their evolution stage—meaning they should have evolved a long time ago, but they haven't. I hadn't noticed at first, but after he pointed it out, I think he's right: Fi's leaves are wilting, Nani is shedding her scales more than I think is normal, and Kohna will flare up out of nowhere, as if she can't keep all of her fire contained. We suspect this has to do with their unusual condition, but we have no idea what's specifically causing it. I didn't realize this would be such an issue, but according to Duking, it is. I guess it's not healthy for a Pokémon to prolong evolution once they're ready? Now that I think about it, it makes sense. But is it different for the ones that evolve through stones? It must be, because Rika hasn't had any problems and she'll probably never evolve.

And I'm rambling again. Sorry!

Anyway, I think that's all for now. I'll write more if anything changes, or—I hope to Arceus—we find out where this all started. Bye!

P.S. Novo still doesn't like me, but I DID get him to accept a treat from me yesterday. It's a work in progress. :D

Rui set down her pencil and sat back with a sigh. It was an unusually peaceful afternoon in Duking's kitchen. She glanced through the open doorway into the living room, where Neo, Novo and Kohna were curled up together on the couch, fast asleep. Maku was at his usual perch gazing out the window, and even Nani was dozing in a corner.

With the kids all in the cavern working on homework assignments and Duking and Silva at the Colosseum making preparations for the upcoming tournament, the house was unusually quiet and still. The afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows, illuminating the kitchen in a cozy glow, and in the warm silence, Rui felt a little drowsy herself.

"You finished?" Wes' voice tugged her back from her thoughts of an afternoon nap. He sat adjacent to her at the table, looking at the notebook in her hand.

"Yeah, I think so. Let me know if I missed anything?" Rui handed the notebook over to him.

She watched for his reactions as he read. She noticed him roll his eyes at her small jabs at him, and she couldn't help but grin.

Wes had grown just a little more relaxed around her over the last few weeks, and while Rui was grateful for that, she was becoming more and more aware of just how little she knew about him. He certainly wasn't keen on talking about himself, and none of Rui's attempts to dig deeper seemed to be working.

Back home, it had been easy to develop friendly relationships with her neighbors, the younger kids, the clerk at the supermarket—in Agate, a friendly wave and a smile was always reciprocated, regardless of how familiar you were with the other person. Making friends had never been a struggle for her—until now.

She tried not to pry, as it was clear he was a private person, but her curiosity kept getting the better of her. She'd tried using as many conversation starters she could think of, only to get short, barely helpful responses. Her ears burned as, unbidden, the memory of her last attempt resurfaced:

"So, Wes, where did you get your bike?"

"Had it since I was a kid."

"Really? Did someone give it to you?"

"No. I restored it."

"Oh! So you know your way around bikes and cars, then?"

"Not really."

"Did you just teach yourself how, then?"

"A friend taught me."

"Oh, cool! Who was your friend?"

He hadn't answered that. Other attempts at conversation were about just as successful as the first:

"So, what's with the line on your face?"

"It's a tattoo."

"Wha—really? Why? Is there a reason for it?"

"I was sixteen and an idiot."

She hadn't known how to respond to that, so the conversation had fizzled out.

So here she sat, across from him at the kitchen table, pondering how on earth she could possibly get to know someone who seemed adamant on never opening up.

"I don't see why that's a problem, dear," Beluh had said over the phone one evening. "Some people just like to be private about themselves. Why, old Garlin scarcely says more than ten words to Eagun when we go by the market, and they've been battling together for years."

But that was the problem, Rui thought; even old man Garlin had friends, yet Wes seemed bent on not making any friends at all. But hadn't he claimed to have friends who helped him steal the Snag Machine? Where were they? What sort of people were they? What sort of person was he, for crying out loud?

She rested her chin in her palm and observed him as he flipped through the pages of the notebook. The sunlight through the kitchen window settled on his shoulders, outlining him in rays of gold. She found herself taking note of the way his hair, perpetually messy and wild as it was, overlapped in silvery waves and framed his face, contrasting with his tan complexion. The windswept look suited him, especially considering how much time he likely spent flying across the desert in that motor-

Wes raised his head and locked eyes with hers, and Rui suddenly realized just how long she'd been staring.

Her face flooded with heat. She tore her gaze away from him, but not before she caught him raising an eyebrow at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly.

She could practically hear his frown. "Doesn't seem like nothing."

She'd always been such a pathetic liar, and Wes was far too good at detecting falsehoods. Say something.

"What's, um..." Come on, Rui. She forced herself to meet his eyes again.

"What's your favorite color?" she blurted.

That was it? That was the best you could do?

Wes fixed her with a blank stare. Rui was endlessly grateful he couldn't hear her internal screaming.

"What?"

"What's your favorite color?" she insisted. "Everybody has one. Mine's purple."

"That's what you wanted to know?"

She didn't trust herself to sound convincing, so she just nodded.

"For gods' sakes, Rui." Wes shook his head and returned his gaze to the pages on the table. "I thought it was something serious with how long it took you to say something."

Mew's marbles. He'd noticed. He had noticed her staring. Rui forced a laugh and resisted the urge to lock herself in the nearest closet for the next thirty years.

"W-well, you still didn't answer my question!"

Wes shrugged. "Don't have one."

"What?" Rui blinked at him, still attempting to shove down her embarrassment. Thank the gods he wasn't looking at her night now, her face felt so red. "Come on, everybody has a favorite color."

"Apparently not. I don't have one."

"There's not one that makes you think of...I don't know, good memories or something?"

"Why do you care?" Wes' eyes snapped back up to hers as an edge crept into his tone. Rui flinched a little at the flare of hostility.

"I—I was just curious, that's all!" she said hastily. "I just...wanted to get to know you better. As a friend."

There was silence for a moment. Rui found herself unable to hold his intense gaze and instead glanced about the kitchen. Great, now she'd made things awkward. Why had she bothered to say anythi—oh, right. Because she'd been staring. By Celebi, she was such a hopeless case—

"Are we friends?"

Surprised, Rui looked at him again. The question had been blurted out so...innocently. The look on Wes' face was one she hadn't seen before: rather than his usual somewhat sour expression, he wore a look of surprised curiosity. With his head tilted slightly to the side, he almost looked like Neo or Novo whenever they were confused. It was a look she'd never seen on him before.

She bubbled out a laugh—not a forceful effort to hide her disgrace like the last one, but a genuine one—and playfully slugged him in the shoulder. "Of course we are, you moron!"

Wes stared at her, completely bewildered. He glanced at his shoulder, then back at her. "The hell was that for?"

Rui froze. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?"

Wes spluttered in indignation. "Did it hu—for Mew's sake, that was the most pathetic punch I've ever felt. No, it didn't hurt." He sounded downright offended that she'd thought she could injure him.

She blinked. Clearly, Wes had never engaged in this kind of banter before. "It was a joke. You know, like a playful jab?"

He looked at her like she'd sprouted a second head. "What, you hit people for fun?"

She sputtered. "Wh—not like that! It's harmless. Teasing, you know?"

"No, I don't," he said flatly. He looked her up and down, then added quite matter-of-factly, "You're weird as hell."

Rui let out a guffaw of laughter at that comment. His brutal honesty was refreshing, even if it sometimes came at her expense. Not that she minded being called "weird" in the first place; while it bothered her when she was younger, after years of strange looks and classmates calling her "that aura girl", she'd decided to embrace it as a compliment anyway.

"Yeah, okay, I'm weird," she chuckled as her laughter subsided. "I'm just trying to teach you how to have fun. Is that so bad?"

Wes frowned—apparently, he didn't have an immediate response to that. He looked as though he was working on coming up with a reply when a muffled shout came from the direction of the cavern.

What was—?

Wes was instantly on his feet and heading through the kitchen. Rui followed suit, her laughter immediately vanishing in a new sense of urgency. As they burst through Duking's office towards the secret door, the voices became more and more distinct.

"I don't care what you think!" Lon's voice was fierce, echoing off the stone walls as they entered the room. "I think it's stupid!"

Rui stepped into the room just behind Wes and flinched at the blazing, aggressive auras that immediately assaulted her sight.

"You're stupid!" Marci fired back. "Everybody needs to know how to read, and you promised my dad you would try!"

Secc, who was the only one actually sitting at the table they used for homework, glanced up from his book and threw Wes and Rui a desperate look that plainly read, 'please help me'. Marci and Lon had risen from their seats and were exchanging shouts across the table.

"Yeah?" Lon sneered. "Well, your dad's a prude!"

Secc's gaze snapped over to Lon. "Hey," he said in a low voice, "don't talk about our dad like that."

"Why?" Lon rounded on him, his sneer turning into a snarl. "Don't like it? Well, it's true! You're all prudes!"

Secc slid his bookmark in his book and set it delicately on the table; a simple gesture, yet he managed to do so in a marvelously threatening manner.

Marci slammed her hands down on the table. "Listen, greasewad!" she spat. "Call my dad that one more time and I'll break your teeth!"

Lon stared at her for a moment; Rui wasn't sure if he was baffled by her bold threat or if he was still processing the insult "greasewad."

"All right, that's enough, all of you." Rui stepped in with her hands out in an effort to calm the raging atmosphere. "Everybody needs to calm down—"

"He's the one who started it!" Marci pointed accusingly at Lon. "He's been nothing but mean ever since you guys brought him here!"

She wasn't entirely wrong; Lon had made it clear he wanted no part in their gatherings and usually kept to himself with his Pokémon. While he seemed to enjoy his pickpocketing missions, he was quick to slide in a snide comment under his breath whenever receiving coaching from Wes, and Rui suspected the only reason he even half-heartedly agreed to take some online classes was because, despite Duking's generosity and kindness, the man still intimidated him.

"So what?" Lon snapped.

"'So what?' We gave you a place to stay and food to eat and we've been nothin' but nice to you, and you've just been a slimy little-"

"Marci, stop," Rui said sternly. She moved a little closer to the table to look the girl in the eyes. "This isn't helping anyth-"

"No, let her finish!" Lon barked. "Go on, say it, Princess!"

Wes groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, for the love of—"

"Alright, I will!" Marci shouted. She balled her hands into fists, her face red with fury. "I hate you! You talk big and think you're all that, but you're nothing special! You're just a leech!"

"What did you just call me?"

In an instant, Lon had a Pokéball in his hand, and Rui felt her stomach drop. "Lon, please, you wouldn't—"

"YOU THINK I WON'T?" Lon roared. "TRY ME, THEN!"

And before anyone could stop him, he threw the Pokéball to the floor.

Rui's breath caught in her throat.

She hadn't actually seen Lon's third Pokémon before; she'd only ever seen him let his Azurill and Igglybuff out of their balls, and at meal times he'd always made a point to feed his team somewhere privately...and she now understood why.

Sickly black aura flickered around the Slugma, swirling like an eerie specter. The Fire-type gurgled, flames bubbling from his mouth, and Rui had the horrifying realization that Lon wouldn't be able to stop him if he decided to erupt-

"Enough!"

The cold fury in Wes' shout sent chills down Rui's spine. He pushed himself past both Rui and Marci, and with a flick of his wrist and the flash of a Pokéball, Novo was immediately at his heels.

Wes rounded on Lon, his eyes blazing with a ferocity Rui had never seen before, his posture rigid with tense anger. "You make even one move, kid, and you'll have to answer to me!"

At this, Novo stepped in front of his trainer and stared hard at the Slugma, rings pulsing ominously.

Lon wilted under the heat of Wes' angry stare, but maintained a degree of defiance. "D-don't tell me what to do!"

"Don't threaten us with your Pokémon, then!" Wes spat. He towered over the boy as blue flames of aura lashed upwards and danced around him, their brightness reflecting his rage. "You call yourself a trainer?"

Lon took a step back; behind him, his Slugma made himself taller and gurgled out a sound that was somewhere between a hiss and a sputter, his black aura spiking at every movement. Novo tensed at this, a growl rising in his throat.

Rui's chest tightened with alarm. "Lon, call off your—"

"I am a trainer!" Lon clenched his fists, ignoring her altogether. "I have a team—"

"I don't give a damn!" Wes roared. "If all you use them for is to intimidate defenseless kids, then you're no better than a common thug! Is that what you want?"

The Slugma quivered. Steam hissed from his body, dark shadows swelled at every shout that echoed off the cavern walls, threatening to burst—

Rui clenched her teeth and seized Wes by the arm, yanking him back a step. "Stop it, both of you! Lon, call off your Pokémon!"

Wes flashed her a furious glare. "Rui, stay the hell out of—"

"That Slugma's one of them, Wes!"

He and Lon froze. Rui heard Marci gasp. Rui glanced at the girl and her brother and hastily gestured for them to leave; they scurried off quickly through the secret door.

Lon slowly looked over his shoulder and paled at the sight of his quivering Slugma.

Wes spoke in a low voice. "Call it off. Now."

For once, Lon didn't need to be told twice. He fumbled with his Pokéball, and only after the Slugma disappeared did Rui exhale shakily.

Wes leveled his gaze, and Rui was sure the quiet fire in his eyes would melt Lon on the spot then and there. "Where. In the hell. Did you get that thing."

Lon stumbled backwards, clutching the Pokéball tightly to his chest. "N-none of your business!" He boldly returned Wes' glare, but failed to hide the tremor in his voice.

"I won't ask again, kid!"

"He—he was given to me, okay? I got him for doin' a favor for somebody, that's all!" He retreated a few more steps. "But you can't take him! He's mine!"

"You're out of your damn mind if you think I'm gonna let you keep it!" Wes snapped. "Hand it over! Now!"

"No!"

"Lon, please, that Pokémon is dangerous!" Rui said. "We can help—"

"NO!" Lon clasped the ball in both hands and squeezed it so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Lon—"

"I NEED HIM, OKAY?"

Lon's voice broke as tears spilled down his cheeks. "I n-n-need him—he's the only one strong enough to battle, 'cause Mimi and Ozzie are just babies an' I need money to feed em, and—and—" He sniffed and wiped at his tears with a shaking hand. "An' when this gig is over, I'll still need him!"

Wes paused and took a step back, the hostility draining from his face. He ran a hand sheepishly through his hair and appeared unsure of what to say.

Rui stepped ahead of him. Lon flinched and shrank back as he approached.

"Lon," she said softly, "do you think we're going to kick you out once this mission is over?"

Lon blinked and sniffed again. "Aren't you?"

"No." She crouched in front of him. "Why would Duking want you to take classes if he was just going to throw you back on the streets after all this?"

"But…" The boy glanced from her to Wes in disbelief. "Wh-why'd he want me?"

"You're a good kid," Rui said gently. "And Duking sees that. What's important is that you're not going to have to worry about Mimi or Ozzie while you're with us, okay? You're all safe here."

He stared at her for a moment. "An-an Mel, too?"

"Your Slugma?"

He nodded.

Rui smiled and reached out her hand. Lon paused, then took it, and she gave him a reassuring squeeze. Merciful Celebi, he was just a child, and the kind of life he'd had to live already...had Wes had to grow up like this, too?

"Your Slugma will be safe, too...but we need you to let us take a look at him, okay? He's sick, like all the other Pokémon you've been helping us find." She looked into those frightened eyes. "Can you do that for us?"

He tensed. "Do I still get to keep him?"

She glanced at Wes, who had narrowed his eyes at the question, then back to Lon. "You can keep him, but he'll have to stay under supervision, okay? No battling or sending him out without someone else until he's better."

Lon looked down at the ball in his hand. "You promise you'll make him better?"

Rui's stomach clenched. Could she promise that? She thought of Maku, Kohna, Nani. They were recovering, that was for certain...but was there a permanent solution? A real cure? They hadn't found one yet...gods, they hadn't found anything yet...

Still, she met the boy's gaze. "Yes," she said fervently. "I promise."

For a couple beats, Lon didn't move. He looked at the Pokéball for a minute, chewing his lip, until he slowly handed it out to her. She gently took it from him, and even through the ball, she could feel the hot aggression pouring out from within.

Rui gave him another soft smile. "Thank you, Lon." She rose to her feet. "Why don't you head to the kitchen to get something to eat? Wes and I will be right behind you."

He nodded and, after glancing at Mel's Pokéball one more time, shuffled out of the room.

"Did you really mean that?"

Rui turned to Wes and found him frowning at her. "Of course I meant it," she said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, for one thing, we don't know if we can cure all these Pokémon." He nodded at the ball in her hand. "And for another, how do you know Duking won't just toss him out?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you think he would? Besides, he made this cave in hopes of helping Pyrite kids one day, remember?"

"Sure, but he can't stay here forever. And you didn't answer my first point."

"I—I know." Rui dropped her gaze. Novo, no longer needing to be on guard, had settled himself contentedly at Wes' feet and looked ready for his afternoon nap, yawning widely.

Surely these Pokémon had been just like Novo, once; normal, healthy, mentally sound. There had to be a way to get them back to that state. And Wes had a point; generous as Duking was, Lon probably wouldn't be able to stay forever. But where else could he go? Certainly not back to the streets…

This whole town is such a mess, she thought. She was beginning to understand Sherles' weariness.

She looked back up at Wes and held Mel's Pokéball out to him. "We don't have any answers yet, but we will. They're out there somewhere, and we'll find them."

Wes took the ball with a slight shake of his head. She knew that look: even if he had a retort, he wasn't going to say it. Rui took a deep breath, forced a smile, and made her way to the door.

"Let's eat, I'm starving!"

Even after many questions, Lon hadn't been able to tell them much, except for a vague description of the man's orange hair and that he went by the name "B." Apparently, he had approached the boy near a bar off main street that was common Valor territory, and the "favor" he'd asked of Lon was to smuggle a handful of weapons from Mystic's base in exchange for a "special Pokémon." When Rui expressed her horror that anyone would ask a child to do something so dangerous, Wes had merely shrugged and said, "Street kids are the safest bet. To them, they're expendable."

Rui wasn't sure what was more disturbing: the fact that Wes was probably right, or the matter-of-fact which way in which he said it.

With such little information to go off of, Wes had suggested they look for Cail, the green-haired young man they'd ran into on their first day in Pyrite. While Rui wasn't overly fond of the idea, Wes argued that someone like Cail, who prided himself on being well-connected, would be their best bet for getting more leads.

And yet, oddly, Cail was nowhere to be found in his regular haunts, and by late afternoon they'd made little progress. Rui heaved a sigh and slumped in her seat. They were in a dingy old restaurant—or something that vaguely resembled a restaurant, anyway—but they'd come here more for respite from the heat than for the food. She'd peered curiously at the menu, but Wes swore up and down that they were much better off without ordering anything.

"Trust me on this," he'd said flatly, "You don't want anything from here. Last time we were here Neo was sick for like a week."

"But you didn't get sick?"

"I didn't get anything." At her questioning look, he simply shrugged. "Couldn't afford it, and they needed it more than me."

Ah. Rui didn't know what to say to that. How often, she'd wondered, had he been forced to make the choice between feeding his Pokémon or himself?

Wes opened a map on his PDA and searched for their next place to look. Rui took to staring out the grimy window, lost in thought, as the minutes trickled by. She had no idea how much time had passed when Wes asked her a question that jolted her out of her daze.

"It was a Skitty, wasn't it?"

Rui nearly jumped out of her skin. She threw him a bewildered look. "Wh-what?"

"Your starter," he said. "Was it a Skitty?"

She forced herself to hold his penetrating gaze but couldn't hide her shock. "You—how did you know that?"

Wes nodded at something over her shoulder. Rui followed his gaze, though she already knew what he was referring to; she'd noticed the small gang of kids lounging outside the restaurant almost an hour ago, though it hadn't been the kids that held her attention.

"One of those kids has a Skitty. You've been staring at him for the last half-hour."

Rui felt a bit of heat rush to her face, unrelated to the harsh sun they'd been standing under all afternoon. Had she really been that obvious?

She fidgeted in her seat. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything, though," she said defensively. She hastily searched for something—anything—to say that would change the subject, but Wes was undeterred.

"It's a simple question. You had a Skitty, didn't you?" he said bluntly.

Sweet Celebi, even while she was actively avoiding his eyes, she could still feel that burning stare. Images flashed through her mind, ones that she'd spent years trying to bury: an empty street at night, the white cobblestones glowing under the streetlights; cold laughter from the shadows; her mother's panicked voice and the sound of her own screams-

Forget. Forget. Forget. She was supposed to forget.

"Rui?"

She almost jumped at the sound of her name. She blinked at Wes across the table, who was now frowning at her. Oh, gods, she'd spaced out once again, and now he was looking at her like that, and was he going to ask more questions?

Nothing is wrong. You're fine. She sat up straighter and forced a bright smile. You're fine.

"Yeah, I had a Skitty." She quietly took another shaky breath. "Her name was Daisy."

"Daisy, huh?" Wes sat back in his seat and idly folded his arms. "Why that name?"

She shrugged. "It's my favorite flower. Couldn't think of anything else, I guess."

Wes gave a mocking snort. "And yet you lecture me about unoriginal names."

Rui laughed a little. "Okay, come on, cut me some slack! I was ten." In an attempt to lighten the mood, she threw him what she hoped was a convincing grin. "Besides, it could have been worse. I could have gone with...I dunno...Skitters or something."

"I see nothing wrong with that name."

"Okay, now I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

Wes' eyes met hers, and for just a moment, Rui thought she caught the tiniest hint of a smile. But then he turned his head to look out the window, and she found herself wondering if she'd seen it at all.

"So," he said, "how did you manage to get a Pokémon in the first place? I can't imagine Agate has a Skitty colony."

Rui looked at him for a moment. This was...different from the conversations they'd previously had. She was trying to put her finger on it when it suddenly hit her.

Her smile widened. "You have a lot of questions today." Usually she was the one asking.

Wes shifted a little and shot her a small frown. "So?"

"It's not a bad thing!" she said quickly. "It's just, well...not your usual."

"...Oh." He relaxed a little at that. Then, with a smirk, he said, "Just trying to get to know you better, as a friend. Is that so bad?"

"Ooooh." Rui raised her eyebrows and leaned in, planting her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her palms. "Did I hear that right? Did you actually admit we're friends?"

"No. I just quoted you."

"Oh, get over yourself, Lycas. You totally just said we were friends."

"When the hell did you start calling me 'Lycas'?"

"Since we became friends, I guess!"

He rolled his eyes. "Gods. It was a joke."

"Right, right, we're just chatting and joking around. Wanna know what that's called?"

"A waste of time?"

"It's called friendship, moron."

"Sure." Wes pushed himself up from his seat and gestured for her to follow. "But we have been here too long. Let's head to the battle square and see if we can find Cail there."

"Alright, good plan." Rui followed Wes out the door. "But don't think I didn't notice you changing the subject."

"Technically, you changed the subject. You never answered my question about where you got your Skitty."

"Oh—right!" Rui blinked in the harsh sunlight that greeted them and stepped up beside Wes. "Well, it's not that exciting. Mom was from Hoenn, and she managed to call in a favor with an old friend. That's how I got Daisy."

Rui tipped her head back to look up at the sky—it was lovely today, a crisp, bright blue that contrasted with the red plateaus around them. Growing up in Agate, surrounded by retired trainers and their teams, she'd thought it was normal to see Pokémon everywhere she went, even if there weren't any wild ones to speak of. She hasn't realized what the lack of wild Pokémon would have meant for the rest of Orre.

"You were lucky, then," Wes said. His eyes were scanning the streets as they walked, his gaze sharp and attentive.

Rui nodded. "Yeah. I didn't realize it before, but...I do now." She paused and spared him a nervous glance. "Um, Wes? Where did everyone here get their Pokémon, then? Do you...do you think they were stolen?"

"Probably," he replied evenly. "Most of them, at least. If they weren't stolen from someone directly, then they probably got them from the black market in the Under."

The Under. Despite the afternoon heat, Rui had to suppress a shiver. She'd only heard stories of the city that lay at the depths of Pyrite Canyon, so far underground that sunlight never reached it. Once, old man Grover had told her there were still reports of Noctis circulating in the deepest slums of the city, and that the place was so eternally filthy they could never hope to eradicate the virus completely. Beluh had scolded him for trying to scare her, and promptly told Rui that it was no good to put stock in such rumors.

But whether or not the rumors were true, it never changed one thing that even Rui knew for certain: nothing good ever came from the Under.

"Do people from the Under come up here often, then?" She tried to mask her unease with a conversational tone.

Wes shook his head. "The opposite, usually. Pyrite citizens will take trips down there to find what they need. It's where all the shops around town get their supply of merchandise, and the Under gets it from other regions. Smuggling or something, probably."

"Oh." Rui looked at the ground and pondered for a moment. A question was nagging at the back of her mind, but she wasn't sure if she dared ask it: How did you get your Pokémon?

She threw Wes a nervous glance, but he was still scanning the area as they walked, evidently unfazed by their conversation. She could ask him...but he'd probably close himself off again if she did. Perhaps she would save it for later.

Besides, she was sure the answer wouldn't be anything sinister—maybe he got Neo and Novo from a friend, or maybe Sherles helped Wes get them when he started volunteering. There were other ways to get Pokémon aside from The Under, after all.

An idea sparked. "Wait—could that be where the savage Pokémon are coming from, then?" she said suddenly.

Wes mulled this idea over for a moment. "It's...definitely possible, but I'm not sure. For one thing, the market in The Under distributes to all of Orre—we've only heard of them appearing here and in Phenac so far. And for another…" He paused briefly before continuing, "The Under gets most, if not all, of their Pokémon from Snagem. And as far as I know, Snagem never experimented on Pokémon."

Right. Wes didn't talk about it much, so it was easy to forget just how much he knew about the inner workings of Snagem, Orre's dark underbelly. Rui repressed another shudder; she couldn't imagine the things he must have seen, working undercover in those kinds of places…

"What was it like?" The question slipped out before she gave herself time to reconsider it. Wes turned his head to raise an eyebrow at her, and she added hastily, "Working in Snagem, I mean."

A shadow passed over Wes' face. Rui noticed his eyes resting on the Snag Machine for a moment before he bit out a reply. "Miserable."

The bitterness in his voice was strong enough to make her wince. "I bet," she said softly. When Wes didn't reply, she added, "I'm...sorry you had to experience that."

He merely shrugged, and the conversation lapsed into silence. Rui mentally kicked herself. So much for being careful, stupid.

"It's blue, by the way."

Wes' voice was so quiet, she almost didn't hear him. She frowned at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"My favorite color." He shifted a little, his eyes focused straight ahead as the battle square came into view. "You asked earlier, and...it's blue."

Rui blinked, then slowly smiled. "Blue, huh? Like...this color?" She pointed at his coat.

He glanced down, then nodded.

"Hm. That's a nice color! It suits you," she said.

This time he did look at her, with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yes! It's a Wes color."

He snorted and shook his head, and this time, Rui really did see it: a tiny smile, just barely noticeable enough to be called one, tugging at the corners of his mouth. She almost pointed this out to him—then thought better of it. She wanted that smile to last as long as possible.

They fell silent, but this time Rui didn't feel any urge to break it. She leaned back against the wall behind them and looked skywards with a small smile. Was it just her, or was the sky even more beautiful than it was before…?

"Look, it's the guy who still owes me a battle!"

Rui turned her head to see precisely who they were looking for: Cail, trudging over from the other side of the square, eyes on Wes and wearing that same crooked grin. Another trainer, tall and lanky with a pair of harsh eyes like a Swellow's, followed just behind him, an Abra curled atop his shoulders.

Wes rolled his eyes. "Looking to continue your losing streak, then?" He shot Rui a sideways glance, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing. It's like he was waiting for us here.

Cail and his companion stopped just a few feet short of the pair. Ignoring Wes' jibe, he looked down at Rui and grinned wider. "And hey, you still have Carrot-top with you!"

Rui only just managed to mask her glare. "I'd rather my hair look like carrots than seaweed," she said evenly.

The other trainer barked out a laugh and clapped Cail on the shoulder. "Oooh, man, you gonna need a Burn Heal for that?" he asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Calda," said Cail, though his tone remained light.

And yet...Rui took a closer look at the rogue trainer. His tone was perfectly casual, that lackadaisical grin of his the same as usual, but they did not match the quivering, stuttering patterns in his aura.

He's...afraid. The hairs on the back or Rui's neck stood up. Afraid of what? Of Wes? But he hadn't been this way the first time they'd met, and he most certainly wasn't afraid of her…

Cail smirked at Wes. "Damn, she bites now. They grow up so fast." That grin of his would have been perfectly convincing if not for the shiver that rippled through the flames of his aura.

"What do you want?" Wes asked frostily.

"Well, normally I'd say I want a battle, but...not this time." Cail tipped his head back and shoved his hands in the pocket of his cargo pants, but Rui was focused on the flickering of his aura, which danced nervously like fire in the wind. "I'm here to talk business. But it ain't a conversation for this kind of place."

Wes' gaze hardened and he folded his arms. "Funny you should say that, as we have some questions for you ourselves." He glanced at Cail's companion. "But I'd rather you talk to us here or not at all. I'm not interested in meeting you in some shady corner."

Cail shrugged. "Thought you'd say that." He turned to Calda.

"Do it."

The other trainer moved so quickly Rui barely had time to see what he was doing. She caught a glimpse of him reaching up to his Abra, his lips forming a command, and then there was a flash of light, she heard Wes shout something—

A strange, eerie sensation enveloped her. It was cold, unpleasant, and sent shivers down her spine. Rui's limbs felt glued to her sides, white light blinded her from all sides, and she felt as though something invisible was squeezing around her middle, driving the air out her lungs so that she couldn't breathe, let alone scream—

Pop!

Color exploded back into Rui's vision as the ground became solid beneath her feet once more. The abrupt change was so jarring she stumbled and would have fallen had Wes not grabbed her by the arm to hold her steady.

Head reeling, Rui gripped his sleeve tightly and tried to make sense of what had just happened. They were now inside what looked like an abandoned warehouse of some sort, the tiles chipped and cracking, debris and empty boxes littering the floor and old, broken vending machines lining the walls.

"Cail!" Wes roared. He pushed in front of her, and with a flick of his wrist, sent three Pokéballs out on the floor. The light faded to reveal Maku, Kohna, and Novo, each of them immediately tensing into battle-ready stances upon release. Neo and Nani's Pokéballs were also poised in his hand, ready to be unleashed at any moment.

"You've got ten seconds to tell me what the hell is going on!" There was a look in Wes' eyes that Rui had never seen, an almost feral ferocity that made her chest tighten with fear. He took another step forward and raised a knife—a knife, a knife, where in Celebi's name did he get a knife—as his Pokémon flanked him on either side, replicating his fury with growls of their own.

"I wouldn't be so hasty, if I were you, kid." Another voice spoke from the shadows of the dimly lit room, and as the stranger stepped forward, Rui tightened her grip on Wes' coat in horror; there was no mistaking that unnerving voice, that brightly colored hair, and suddenly she was back in the burlap sack again, choking between shouts and sobs and gasping for air in the stifling heat—

Trudly tipped his head back and looked her dead in the eyes, lips curling over chipped teeth in a taunting sneer.

"Miss me, sweetheart?"