Hibiki stood outside of Hikita’s restaurant, leaning against the wall and holding the bagged chicken and rice in his left hand as he watched unblinkingly for any signs of movement from the police station. He didn’t know how much time had passed when two people finally did emerge from the front doors in the distance and headed in his direction. Straining his eyes to see who it was, Hibiki’s heart leaped for joy when he recognized Kenta in the police uniform, and the elderly Kurt marching merrily alongside of him. He sprinted across the street and towards the two of them as fast as he could without dropping his food, and stopping in front of them, he leaned over and panted for breath. Kenta and Kurt looked down at him, and the elder turned to the younger.
“Your brother?”
“Yes, Elder. Could I talk to him for a few minutes?”
“Take as long as you want, but I need to get home!” Kurt bustled on past Hibiki, positively glowing, and walking with a spring in his step. Both brothers watched him go, then turned to look at each other. Kenta glanced down at the bag in Hibiki’s hand. “Oh, you got it! Well then, let’s go back in and eat, I’m starving.”
“Kenta, you . . . you did it!” Hibiki jumped at his big brother and hugged him tightly, overjoyed and relieved to see that he’d made it back out with the old prisoner. “How were you able to get him past the building’s police?”
“Oh, simple,” said Kenta, as the two of them headed back towards Hikita’s. “I lied a little. Remember how Curtis was telling us about that recent decree, stating that nobody could make pokeballs without a license?”
“Yeah.”
“Decrees aren’t actually laws around here, they just become laws later, after going through the system. The police can only expect cooperation until then, but they’re not allowed to outright arrest anyone for breaking the decree. Azelia’s police force acted too early in this regard.”
“Hmm . . .”
They’d reached the restaurant door. As they went in and seated themselves at a table, a thought came to Hibiki. “Could it be that they acted early because they’re afraid?”
“Afraid? Heh, they wouldn’t like you using that word.” Kenta opened the brown paper bag, and pulled out box of chicken and rice. It was still warm. “But I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Everyone gets nervous when new rules are laid down, especially the rule-keepers. And sometimes they get hasty, and break old rules to uphold the new.” He snapped the complimentary chopsticks apart. “Anyway, this is where my lie comes in. I told Officer Jenny that I was there on a certain Captain’s orders to release Kurt, because he was being unlawfully contained. She probably would’ve believed me even if she didn’t already know me.” Kenta shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. “I’ll tell you what, acting in the name of authority works wonders.”
Hibiki dug into his own share of the food, surprised at his own hunger. After all his excitement in the past twelve hours, there was really no wonder that he was so hungry, but then again, he’d never participated in anything like this before. Guilt curbed his appetite a little bit, and for a moment, he felt his stomach give a small threat to throw up. But he swallowed his food, and voiced his concerns quietly to Kenta so that nobody else in the restaurant would hear.
“Hey, um . . . is it really okay that we’re doing this? Lying and working in secret and stuff?”
Kenta looked at Hibiki somberly, and somewhat sadly. He rested his head on his chin with a sigh. “No. No, it’s not okay,” he muttered in a raspy tone, looking somewhat disgusted. “Not when the government does it, and not when we do it. We’re both guilty.”
“Then what makes us better?” Hibiki pressed. “Why can’t we continue to just be good, and let them alone be wrong?”
“Because I can’t go back to that anymore,” responded Kenta in a final tone. He had a haunted look in his eyes. “There’s no more ‘life the way it was’ for me, now. If they find me out, I’m a dead man. Remember what I told you this morning about Silph Corporation?”
Hibiki thought for a moment. I only remember him saying he was betrayed there by Silhouette, and that Bolt rescued him from death at the end. I didn’t really question much about it after that.
He saw that Kenta was gazing at him, but with a faraway look in his eyes. “I didn’t really go into detail about it, did I?” Kenta asked softly, stirring his chopsticks through his rice. “We were too busy talking about what we’d be doing, and not about what had already happened. But we’ve got time now.”
“Okay.” Hibiki chewed a piece of his chicken absently, his focus on his older brother, his only brother. “I’m listening.”
Kenta was in another place. The words he spoke were Hibiki’s to hear, but he was no longer talking to Hibiki directly. He was reliving the past.
***
The halting of the Silph elevator, along with the glowing matrix-dotted “3” just above the double-doors, confirmed for Kenta that he was on the third floor. He braced himself as the doors slowly parted before him, but had no idea what he would do. Outside, standing right in the center of the hallway, two figures waited for him to come out. One was a man in his late thirties wearing a suit, and the other, a sleepy-looking pokémon with a miniature trunk, which Kenta recognized as a Drowzee. Kenta walked straight forward, determined to avoid eye contact with either of them, and both allowed him past and followed from behind. He could tell by their footsteps that they were very close.
“Into the room on the left,” the man said sternly, pointing to a doorway reading “302.” Kenta turned the knob and pushed inwards, pondering how he would take on the trainer with the Drowzee if it came to that. He’d have to be quick, or the man would simply have Drowzee use Disable on him and freeze up his entire body.
Kenta’s train of thought failed him as he saw what was waiting for him within Room 302. A woman was sitting on a table in the center of the room, next to a computer. Tied up on the floor were Officers Dei and Sosuke, the two men in charge of the original Silph inspection. Kenta noticed a phone on the wall to the left, out of the corner of his eye, but he would only try it if he knew he couldn’t be detected. He hadn’t forgotten the receptionist’s threat from a minute ago. If there really were Electrode positioned throughout the entire building, he wouldn’t do anything to risk making them explode.
“You.” The woman sitting on the table pointed at Kenta, and slid off the edge so that she touched down. “Are you the backup cop?”
Kenta nodded.
“Where’s your partner?”
“Downstairs. At the front desk.”
“What’s he doing there?”
Kenta looked at her. “Don’t you know? He’s keeping the rest of the force from flooding in here and arresting you people for what you’re doing.”
The woman shook her head. “My name is Rena Saishi,” she said, putting her hand out to shake. “And I’m currently the most distrusted person involved in the Master Ball Project. They haven’t told me a thing in the last half hour.”
Kenta didn’t move, and waited until Saishi’s hand had dropped. “Distrusted?” he repeated skeptically. “I find that hard to believe, considering they left you to guard the hostages.”
“Then I’ll help your unbelief. You see . . .” Saishi reached into her work blouse, and from under her bra, pulled out a tiny, spherical object colored purple. “Anyone in charge of holding the Master Ball automatically becomes the most distrusted person.”
She widened the ball, and Kenta looked at it in alarm. He continued to stare, unable to believe his eyes. He’d only seen the “Master Ball” one other time, and that had been two years ago when his father’s old colleague, Professor Elm, had presented the concept to him. At the time, Elm had picked up an Ultra Ball from one of Blackthorn City’s dragon tamers. Supposedly, this particular Ultra Ball was unusually powerful, and had helped the trainer succeed in capturing a fishhooked Dragonair on the first throw. From this Ultra Ball, Elm had done some redesigning, and finally showed Kenta gleefully the fruit of his labors . . . an imperfect Master Ball. Kenta recalled how badly his old professor had wanted to be the one to finally succeed in making the true Master Ball, but he’d never have that now.
Saishi tossed the Master Ball casually to herself, looking closely at Kenta as his eyes followed it. “They suspect me rightly, you know. I came to your people not long ago, offering this ball for a . . . modest reward. They were very interested, but just the slightest bit skeptical to whether or not it was the real deal. I didn’t have it at the time. Meanwhile, the people on my end were all becoming more and more suspicious of one another as the Master Ball neared completion, and I began to want out of the project. I knew too much by now, you see? I’m not nearly as useful as I was in the beginning.
“So what’s a poor businesswoman to do? Stay here and be arrested or possibly shot by my own people? Or . . . do I depart from this place, just as the police are swarming in to take away all the criminals who want me out of the picture? Ah, but I can never leave this building with any trace of the Master Ball Project on my body. The door alarms will catch me. Security is harsh in this place, and I’m stuck in this room . . .”
She smiled suddenly, evilly, triumphantly. “. . . with three pokémon-holding officers, a telephone, and a dead security camera. Ah, the hasty scramblings of frightened criminals when they realize they’ve been cornered. And all it took to set this whole thing off was a vital Master Ball document ‘accidentally’ left on the Silph network’s public server during inspection. How careless!”
“Your brother?”
“Yes, Elder. Could I talk to him for a few minutes?”
“Take as long as you want, but I need to get home!” Kurt bustled on past Hibiki, positively glowing, and walking with a spring in his step. Both brothers watched him go, then turned to look at each other. Kenta glanced down at the bag in Hibiki’s hand. “Oh, you got it! Well then, let’s go back in and eat, I’m starving.”
“Kenta, you . . . you did it!” Hibiki jumped at his big brother and hugged him tightly, overjoyed and relieved to see that he’d made it back out with the old prisoner. “How were you able to get him past the building’s police?”
“Oh, simple,” said Kenta, as the two of them headed back towards Hikita’s. “I lied a little. Remember how Curtis was telling us about that recent decree, stating that nobody could make pokeballs without a license?”
“Yeah.”
“Decrees aren’t actually laws around here, they just become laws later, after going through the system. The police can only expect cooperation until then, but they’re not allowed to outright arrest anyone for breaking the decree. Azelia’s police force acted too early in this regard.”
“Hmm . . .”
They’d reached the restaurant door. As they went in and seated themselves at a table, a thought came to Hibiki. “Could it be that they acted early because they’re afraid?”
“Afraid? Heh, they wouldn’t like you using that word.” Kenta opened the brown paper bag, and pulled out box of chicken and rice. It was still warm. “But I think you’ve hit the nail on the head. Everyone gets nervous when new rules are laid down, especially the rule-keepers. And sometimes they get hasty, and break old rules to uphold the new.” He snapped the complimentary chopsticks apart. “Anyway, this is where my lie comes in. I told Officer Jenny that I was there on a certain Captain’s orders to release Kurt, because he was being unlawfully contained. She probably would’ve believed me even if she didn’t already know me.” Kenta shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. “I’ll tell you what, acting in the name of authority works wonders.”
Hibiki dug into his own share of the food, surprised at his own hunger. After all his excitement in the past twelve hours, there was really no wonder that he was so hungry, but then again, he’d never participated in anything like this before. Guilt curbed his appetite a little bit, and for a moment, he felt his stomach give a small threat to throw up. But he swallowed his food, and voiced his concerns quietly to Kenta so that nobody else in the restaurant would hear.
“Hey, um . . . is it really okay that we’re doing this? Lying and working in secret and stuff?”
Kenta looked at Hibiki somberly, and somewhat sadly. He rested his head on his chin with a sigh. “No. No, it’s not okay,” he muttered in a raspy tone, looking somewhat disgusted. “Not when the government does it, and not when we do it. We’re both guilty.”
“Then what makes us better?” Hibiki pressed. “Why can’t we continue to just be good, and let them alone be wrong?”
“Because I can’t go back to that anymore,” responded Kenta in a final tone. He had a haunted look in his eyes. “There’s no more ‘life the way it was’ for me, now. If they find me out, I’m a dead man. Remember what I told you this morning about Silph Corporation?”
Hibiki thought for a moment. I only remember him saying he was betrayed there by Silhouette, and that Bolt rescued him from death at the end. I didn’t really question much about it after that.
He saw that Kenta was gazing at him, but with a faraway look in his eyes. “I didn’t really go into detail about it, did I?” Kenta asked softly, stirring his chopsticks through his rice. “We were too busy talking about what we’d be doing, and not about what had already happened. But we’ve got time now.”
“Okay.” Hibiki chewed a piece of his chicken absently, his focus on his older brother, his only brother. “I’m listening.”
Kenta was in another place. The words he spoke were Hibiki’s to hear, but he was no longer talking to Hibiki directly. He was reliving the past.
***
The halting of the Silph elevator, along with the glowing matrix-dotted “3” just above the double-doors, confirmed for Kenta that he was on the third floor. He braced himself as the doors slowly parted before him, but had no idea what he would do. Outside, standing right in the center of the hallway, two figures waited for him to come out. One was a man in his late thirties wearing a suit, and the other, a sleepy-looking pokémon with a miniature trunk, which Kenta recognized as a Drowzee. Kenta walked straight forward, determined to avoid eye contact with either of them, and both allowed him past and followed from behind. He could tell by their footsteps that they were very close.
“Into the room on the left,” the man said sternly, pointing to a doorway reading “302.” Kenta turned the knob and pushed inwards, pondering how he would take on the trainer with the Drowzee if it came to that. He’d have to be quick, or the man would simply have Drowzee use Disable on him and freeze up his entire body.
Kenta’s train of thought failed him as he saw what was waiting for him within Room 302. A woman was sitting on a table in the center of the room, next to a computer. Tied up on the floor were Officers Dei and Sosuke, the two men in charge of the original Silph inspection. Kenta noticed a phone on the wall to the left, out of the corner of his eye, but he would only try it if he knew he couldn’t be detected. He hadn’t forgotten the receptionist’s threat from a minute ago. If there really were Electrode positioned throughout the entire building, he wouldn’t do anything to risk making them explode.
“You.” The woman sitting on the table pointed at Kenta, and slid off the edge so that she touched down. “Are you the backup cop?”
Kenta nodded.
“Where’s your partner?”
“Downstairs. At the front desk.”
“What’s he doing there?”
Kenta looked at her. “Don’t you know? He’s keeping the rest of the force from flooding in here and arresting you people for what you’re doing.”
The woman shook her head. “My name is Rena Saishi,” she said, putting her hand out to shake. “And I’m currently the most distrusted person involved in the Master Ball Project. They haven’t told me a thing in the last half hour.”
Kenta didn’t move, and waited until Saishi’s hand had dropped. “Distrusted?” he repeated skeptically. “I find that hard to believe, considering they left you to guard the hostages.”
“Then I’ll help your unbelief. You see . . .” Saishi reached into her work blouse, and from under her bra, pulled out a tiny, spherical object colored purple. “Anyone in charge of holding the Master Ball automatically becomes the most distrusted person.”
She widened the ball, and Kenta looked at it in alarm. He continued to stare, unable to believe his eyes. He’d only seen the “Master Ball” one other time, and that had been two years ago when his father’s old colleague, Professor Elm, had presented the concept to him. At the time, Elm had picked up an Ultra Ball from one of Blackthorn City’s dragon tamers. Supposedly, this particular Ultra Ball was unusually powerful, and had helped the trainer succeed in capturing a fishhooked Dragonair on the first throw. From this Ultra Ball, Elm had done some redesigning, and finally showed Kenta gleefully the fruit of his labors . . . an imperfect Master Ball. Kenta recalled how badly his old professor had wanted to be the one to finally succeed in making the true Master Ball, but he’d never have that now.
Saishi tossed the Master Ball casually to herself, looking closely at Kenta as his eyes followed it. “They suspect me rightly, you know. I came to your people not long ago, offering this ball for a . . . modest reward. They were very interested, but just the slightest bit skeptical to whether or not it was the real deal. I didn’t have it at the time. Meanwhile, the people on my end were all becoming more and more suspicious of one another as the Master Ball neared completion, and I began to want out of the project. I knew too much by now, you see? I’m not nearly as useful as I was in the beginning.
“So what’s a poor businesswoman to do? Stay here and be arrested or possibly shot by my own people? Or . . . do I depart from this place, just as the police are swarming in to take away all the criminals who want me out of the picture? Ah, but I can never leave this building with any trace of the Master Ball Project on my body. The door alarms will catch me. Security is harsh in this place, and I’m stuck in this room . . .”
She smiled suddenly, evilly, triumphantly. “. . . with three pokémon-holding officers, a telephone, and a dead security camera. Ah, the hasty scramblings of frightened criminals when they realize they’ve been cornered. And all it took to set this whole thing off was a vital Master Ball document ‘accidentally’ left on the Silph network’s public server during inspection. How careless!”