"Hibiki, it's okay. I'm honestly happy to help, definitely for you, anyway." Kotone leaned her face in closer to his, so that where he'd looked away, she now placed herself. "Y'know . . . your face looks a little different since we last met. Have you gotten taller?"
"M-maybe, I don't know," Hibiki gulped. "I see you're growing your hair out longer."
"I did," she said, looking pleased that he had noticed. "Time's passing quickly, isn't it? But it feels so slow around here." Now it was her turn to look away. "This town is so small, and all the kids our age that used to be here are gone. It's just me and Marill now. I . . ." She paused. "I know it's not my place to say this, but . . . I know that you must be lonely with Kenta gone. If . . . if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here."
Hibiki was deeply touched. In that moment, he wished with all his might that the fight against G.R.I.P. was just over already, and that he could freely talk to Kotone and spend time getting to know her better.
"I'd like that," he said softly. "I can't ask you now, but . . . let's take a walk sometime."
Kotone nodded, her face glowing.
"Thank you again for taking care of Marina," Hibiki added, snapping back to reality. "I gotta go before someone sees me. Good night!"
He bowed quickly and jogged off toward Route 29, while Kotone stood in the doorway, waving to him. Hibiki didn't stop until he was certain she had gone inside, then he waited until Kenta appeared out of the twilight gloom around the corner of the last house. He was holding a small duffle bag.
"Nice job," he said, beaming proudly at Hibiki. "You really did well back there."
Hibiki lowered his head in shame. "I hate that we're just using her," he muttered.
"I know. I hate it too." Kenta placed a hand on his shoulder, his face pinched and troubled. "I promise that we won't be doing this for much longer, and if all ends well, I'll come back and come clean with everyone myself. You shouldn't have to take any heat for this."
Hibiki nodded, then looked around. "Well . . . it's just the two of us again. I ran out here, but I actually have no idea where we're supposed to be going."
"That's okay. I have it figured out." Kenta looked northward. "We can't go back to Earl's Pokémon Academy, though. Ready for a little camping out?"
***
They set up for the night on the slope between New Bark and Blackthorn, outside one of the mouths of Johto's Dark Cave. Hibiki caught fish in a nearby lake, while Kenta prepared a cooking fire. He returned with a couple of impressive-sized trout, to see Kenta gazing up in the distant east. Turning to see where he was looking, Hibiki could just make out the faintest glow on the summit of Mount Silver.
"Bolt's just had his dinner," Kenta said, noticing him. "And it looks like you've got ours! All right, those look amazing!"
"Thanks. I think I saw a Dratini in there," Hibiki said.
"You probably did. A friend of mine once told me he'd caught his in there. Who was it now . . . Matt Mac-something. Irish name."
As Kenta took the fish, Hibiki looked back up at the tiny light on Mt. Silver. "Is someone else camping out, too?" he asked. "From way up there?"
"Yep. Even though you'd have to be one hell of a reclusive nut to do something like that," Kenta replied. "I told him, too, but he wasn't too keen on listening."
"Him? 'Him' who?"
"The guy we're meeting tomorrow," Kenta said, putting the fish-sticks over the fire. "Turns out it was pretty convenient that we could drop Marina off so close to where we were going. The last journey to the mountain for a powerful ally didn't go so well, but I'm determined to make it work this time."
A cold wind blew through the area. Hibiki still had his traveler's cloak, but Kenta shivered, and he reached into his duffle bag. "Brrr . . . now's the perfect time for this thing." He pulled out a warm-looking hoodie, mostly red in color, but with white pockets. Hibiki recognized it instantly.
"Hey, isn't that-?"
"My old trainer garb. I couldn't resist sneaking into our house while we were in our hometown." He pulled it over his head and sighed with relish, as if caught up in the nostalgia of old times. "Hibiki, I haven't been entirely honest, even with myself. Remember how, in Eusine's car, I told you that I had no regrets about declining the Champion spot?"
Hibiki nodded.
"The truth is, I never stop feeling guilty when I look back on it." Kenta's eyes narrowed. "If I had replaced Lance, I might have had more influence when the Restrictive policies were still in the making. I'm not saying that people like Lance and Brendan didn't resist G.R.I.P. . . . but that might have been my burden, and I ran from it."
Kenta pulled the trademark white beanie off his head and looked at it. "Brendan is a worthy Champion that people still look up to, and I've been trying to right G.R.I.P.'s wrongs in his name ever since. But I can't go riding his coattails anymore." He put the headgear into the duffle bag, and pulled something else out. In the light of the fire, Hibiki noticed the flash of black and gold. Kenta pulled the cap over his head, and twisted it around backwards, causing some of his hair to stick out in front.
"It's time to make changes in my own name."
***
The morning sun upon Mount Silver reflected off the ever-present snow on the peak, bathing its surroundings in a dazzling white glow. The scene unfolded before Hibiki's eyes like an old legend reborn. Standing in the snow were two figures, both with their hands in their pockets, both with their heads bowed, but with eyes locked upon each other. The wind blew for a moment, and then was still. The younger man spoke.
"Hello, Red."
"Hello, Gold."
Gold, thought Hibiki, I can't remember the last time anyone used Kenta's Master title.
Kenta's eyes widened, and he smiled. "This is new! What happened to that vow-of-silence thing you pulled on me the last time we were up here?"
"Last time, we had nothing to discuss," the older trainer- Red- said simply.
"And how do you figure this time is different?" asked Kenta. "Do you keep a radio up here?"
"That, and the man who brought it," Red replied. "You aren't my first visitor, you know."
"Well, not in three years, anyway," Kenta shrugged. He gave Red a sudden shrewd look. "I've never blabbed to anyone that you're up here, except last night to my brother. Who found you?"
Red looked away and put a hand on his hip. "Can I trust you, Gold?"
"Trust me?" A troubled expression came over Kenta's face. "Where's this coming from? Why wouldn't you trust me?"
"For one, because you're supposed to be dead."
Kenta groaned. "Why wasn't that the first thing out of your mouth? Look, it's cold out here, and I haven't even gotten to introduce my brother to you. Let me hurry up and put myself in your trust-debt so that we can go to wherever you're holed up." He turned and looked at Hibiki. "Show him the Master Ball, Hibiki."
A bit nervously, Hibiki drew the ball from his pokémon belt that now contained Steven Stone's Metagross. Red straightened and stared, then looked back at Kenta, who had drawn Zapdos's ball. Wonder shone in his eyes.
"A Master Ball-? No- TWO Master Balls?"
"Try ninety-two," said Kenta solemnly. "I had as many produced in short-term as possible. And if you tell anyone that, they'll probably send a whole legion of hitmen to kill me again. Okay? I've spilled my guts, so now it's your turn."
Red gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. "How am I supposed to just talk after this? Gold, you . . . what have you been doing?"
"He's been posing as Brendan Birch," said Hibiki. "Did you pick up on any of that on the radio?" He could have laughed at the new bewilderment that crept over Red's features. Upon first impression, this seemed like the kind of solemn, strong-and-silent type of guy that was never shaken by anything. Yet there he was with his mouth hanging open like his jaw was disconnected.
"Red. Seriously." Kenta spoke up again. "It's freezing up here. Let's get out of the open air."
"M-maybe, I don't know," Hibiki gulped. "I see you're growing your hair out longer."
"I did," she said, looking pleased that he had noticed. "Time's passing quickly, isn't it? But it feels so slow around here." Now it was her turn to look away. "This town is so small, and all the kids our age that used to be here are gone. It's just me and Marill now. I . . ." She paused. "I know it's not my place to say this, but . . . I know that you must be lonely with Kenta gone. If . . . if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll be here."
Hibiki was deeply touched. In that moment, he wished with all his might that the fight against G.R.I.P. was just over already, and that he could freely talk to Kotone and spend time getting to know her better.
"I'd like that," he said softly. "I can't ask you now, but . . . let's take a walk sometime."
Kotone nodded, her face glowing.
"Thank you again for taking care of Marina," Hibiki added, snapping back to reality. "I gotta go before someone sees me. Good night!"
He bowed quickly and jogged off toward Route 29, while Kotone stood in the doorway, waving to him. Hibiki didn't stop until he was certain she had gone inside, then he waited until Kenta appeared out of the twilight gloom around the corner of the last house. He was holding a small duffle bag.
"Nice job," he said, beaming proudly at Hibiki. "You really did well back there."
Hibiki lowered his head in shame. "I hate that we're just using her," he muttered.
"I know. I hate it too." Kenta placed a hand on his shoulder, his face pinched and troubled. "I promise that we won't be doing this for much longer, and if all ends well, I'll come back and come clean with everyone myself. You shouldn't have to take any heat for this."
Hibiki nodded, then looked around. "Well . . . it's just the two of us again. I ran out here, but I actually have no idea where we're supposed to be going."
"That's okay. I have it figured out." Kenta looked northward. "We can't go back to Earl's Pokémon Academy, though. Ready for a little camping out?"
***
They set up for the night on the slope between New Bark and Blackthorn, outside one of the mouths of Johto's Dark Cave. Hibiki caught fish in a nearby lake, while Kenta prepared a cooking fire. He returned with a couple of impressive-sized trout, to see Kenta gazing up in the distant east. Turning to see where he was looking, Hibiki could just make out the faintest glow on the summit of Mount Silver.
"Bolt's just had his dinner," Kenta said, noticing him. "And it looks like you've got ours! All right, those look amazing!"
"Thanks. I think I saw a Dratini in there," Hibiki said.
"You probably did. A friend of mine once told me he'd caught his in there. Who was it now . . . Matt Mac-something. Irish name."
As Kenta took the fish, Hibiki looked back up at the tiny light on Mt. Silver. "Is someone else camping out, too?" he asked. "From way up there?"
"Yep. Even though you'd have to be one hell of a reclusive nut to do something like that," Kenta replied. "I told him, too, but he wasn't too keen on listening."
"Him? 'Him' who?"
"The guy we're meeting tomorrow," Kenta said, putting the fish-sticks over the fire. "Turns out it was pretty convenient that we could drop Marina off so close to where we were going. The last journey to the mountain for a powerful ally didn't go so well, but I'm determined to make it work this time."
A cold wind blew through the area. Hibiki still had his traveler's cloak, but Kenta shivered, and he reached into his duffle bag. "Brrr . . . now's the perfect time for this thing." He pulled out a warm-looking hoodie, mostly red in color, but with white pockets. Hibiki recognized it instantly.
"Hey, isn't that-?"
"My old trainer garb. I couldn't resist sneaking into our house while we were in our hometown." He pulled it over his head and sighed with relish, as if caught up in the nostalgia of old times. "Hibiki, I haven't been entirely honest, even with myself. Remember how, in Eusine's car, I told you that I had no regrets about declining the Champion spot?"
Hibiki nodded.
"The truth is, I never stop feeling guilty when I look back on it." Kenta's eyes narrowed. "If I had replaced Lance, I might have had more influence when the Restrictive policies were still in the making. I'm not saying that people like Lance and Brendan didn't resist G.R.I.P. . . . but that might have been my burden, and I ran from it."
Kenta pulled the trademark white beanie off his head and looked at it. "Brendan is a worthy Champion that people still look up to, and I've been trying to right G.R.I.P.'s wrongs in his name ever since. But I can't go riding his coattails anymore." He put the headgear into the duffle bag, and pulled something else out. In the light of the fire, Hibiki noticed the flash of black and gold. Kenta pulled the cap over his head, and twisted it around backwards, causing some of his hair to stick out in front.
"It's time to make changes in my own name."
***
The morning sun upon Mount Silver reflected off the ever-present snow on the peak, bathing its surroundings in a dazzling white glow. The scene unfolded before Hibiki's eyes like an old legend reborn. Standing in the snow were two figures, both with their hands in their pockets, both with their heads bowed, but with eyes locked upon each other. The wind blew for a moment, and then was still. The younger man spoke.
"Hello, Red."
"Hello, Gold."
Gold, thought Hibiki, I can't remember the last time anyone used Kenta's Master title.
Kenta's eyes widened, and he smiled. "This is new! What happened to that vow-of-silence thing you pulled on me the last time we were up here?"
"Last time, we had nothing to discuss," the older trainer- Red- said simply.
"And how do you figure this time is different?" asked Kenta. "Do you keep a radio up here?"
"That, and the man who brought it," Red replied. "You aren't my first visitor, you know."
"Well, not in three years, anyway," Kenta shrugged. He gave Red a sudden shrewd look. "I've never blabbed to anyone that you're up here, except last night to my brother. Who found you?"
Red looked away and put a hand on his hip. "Can I trust you, Gold?"
"Trust me?" A troubled expression came over Kenta's face. "Where's this coming from? Why wouldn't you trust me?"
"For one, because you're supposed to be dead."
Kenta groaned. "Why wasn't that the first thing out of your mouth? Look, it's cold out here, and I haven't even gotten to introduce my brother to you. Let me hurry up and put myself in your trust-debt so that we can go to wherever you're holed up." He turned and looked at Hibiki. "Show him the Master Ball, Hibiki."
A bit nervously, Hibiki drew the ball from his pokémon belt that now contained Steven Stone's Metagross. Red straightened and stared, then looked back at Kenta, who had drawn Zapdos's ball. Wonder shone in his eyes.
"A Master Ball-? No- TWO Master Balls?"
"Try ninety-two," said Kenta solemnly. "I had as many produced in short-term as possible. And if you tell anyone that, they'll probably send a whole legion of hitmen to kill me again. Okay? I've spilled my guts, so now it's your turn."
Red gritted his teeth and clenched a fist. "How am I supposed to just talk after this? Gold, you . . . what have you been doing?"
"He's been posing as Brendan Birch," said Hibiki. "Did you pick up on any of that on the radio?" He could have laughed at the new bewilderment that crept over Red's features. Upon first impression, this seemed like the kind of solemn, strong-and-silent type of guy that was never shaken by anything. Yet there he was with his mouth hanging open like his jaw was disconnected.
"Red. Seriously." Kenta spoke up again. "It's freezing up here. Let's get out of the open air."