In terms of geography, Vermilion Bay was kind of ambiguous; it was technically two different bays, one on either side of the city, though in practice the name was used to describe the entirety of the local coastline. Different maps disagreed on where its eastern edge ended, with some putting the boundary at the outskirts of the city, and others extended it all the way out to where Fuchsia’s landmass nearly connected with the mainland along Route 13 – where the Celadon Sea bled into warmer waters of its Cerulean and Orange siblings.

  But the western boundary was more consistent, and Hoshi could swear he felt it as they crossed that imaginary line. His eyes opened from a nightmare – that fucking krabby dream is back, of all the stupid shit – as his body shuddered in the darkness of the cabin.

  The unfamiliar ceiling swirled in his blurry vision, while his mind’s eye was filled with more a familiar sight: a curve of land, slightly raised, that could be seen from basically the entirety of Vermilion’s western coast – a distinctive marker that was both the end of the bay, and the end of Route 6. Go past Krabby’s Bluff, and you’d be in the nameless wilderness where even Pokémon Rangers feared to step.

  Ugh, Hoshi groaned silently, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Krabby Bluff, krabby dream… did I get woken up by my stupid fucking brain making a stupid fucking word association? Blah…

  Whatever the reason had been, he was awake now – and it was probably the right time for it anyway, judging by the light coming in through the short, thick windows set up near the cabin’s ceiling. If we’re actually going past the bluff – and I guess it’s the right time for that, too – then I should get up. Enough time to eat, to let my Pokémon stretch their legs, maybe talk to the others about what we’re actually going to do once we land…

  Jessie would probably want to give them a pep talk as well, and it would be better to eat before he needed to turn his brain on. But on the other hand… this bed is surprisingly comfortable for something on a boat. Would be a shame not to indulge, right?

  It took more willpower than he’d like to admit, but Hoshi did eventually nudge Casca awake and pour himself out of bed. “Ugh,” his girlfriend groaned, her shoulder-length hair dishevelled and flat. “Why did I decide to have a heart-to-heart at midniiight? Uuugh…”

  The sound caused other beds to stir, and he snorted. “Because we’re all idiots, obviously.” Smart people don’t join a gang – though I guess it’s more accurate to say we’re terrorists now. Fuck, I wish there was a TV in here so I could catch the news. He could easily imagine the scene; Flam’s incendiary remarks bouncing off Abalone’s nonplussed face as they discussed the storage system being subverted. The calmer anchor would play it off as a small matter against the capture of the Rocket Boss, probably citing the numerically small number of Pokémon being stolen, while his partner ranted about the League’s corruption and incompetence.

  The imaginary bit almost felt more real than his actual body as Hoshi pulled on his socks and boots, feeling somehow more tired than when he and Casca had finally slipped into bed. And we didn’t even have the energy to cuddle a bit like usual… Today, like yesterday, was going to fucking suck.

  “Okay, so…” Hoshi started as his grunts piled food into their mouths. Even Ryan – who actually looked to have gotten a good night’s sleep, the poncy bastard – was discarding his dignity to tear into the rehydrated bacon and eggs Cliff had prepared. Speaking of Cliff, he actually looked pretty okay too. I guess he’d have learned how to operate on weird hours from the war.

  Jessie, on the other hand…

  He blinked, pushing the distractions away and restarting. “Okay, so everybody’s gotten a handle on their new Pokémon?”

  A cornucopia of overlapping responses washed over him, ranging from annoyingly enthusiastic to disgustingly chewy to barely audible. Ugh, my head is still hurting from yesterday. “Puce,” Hoshi picked out, “What was that?”

  The woman grimaced, pushing food around her plate. “Tomato and Sherry don’t really listen to me. They, uh, stopped attacking me after a bit of help from those nice people at the racetrack, but they won’t use the moves I order?” Damn. They’re probably- “They’re probably too used to the way Nerine did things to accept me anytime soon… Uh, even putting aside that I attacked their trainer…”

  Yeah, that. “Well, that’s something to work on – worst case scenario, you’ll have to pass them to someone else for actual battles. But the others are fine?” Umbreon, tentacruel, hypno, and munchlax – not a bad team at all. Arguably really good, even.

  “Oh, yeah.” Puce actually perked up slightly as her hands went to her belt. “I haven’t had any problems with them at all! They get along with Potato and Bear very well, too. Um, the umbreon might not be a battler?”

  Kenny cut in with a grunt. “Yeah? What makes ya say that?”

  “Uh… she only knows Tackle and Pursuit. For attacking moves, I mean.”

  “Pff. Shoulda picked up a few fightin’ types, like me ‘n the other guy.”

  Ryan regained a smidgen of poise as he wiped his mouth with an actual napkin. “Bah, fighting is too hit-or-miss to build a team around. Flying, bug, and poison are ubiquitous – you really only need a move or two to deal with normal and rock, not an entire Pokémon.”

  “Hey..!” Kenny growled. “Fightin’s a great type. It’s strong against ice too, an’ steel, an’ dark! Actually…” His lips curved as he took another bite mid-sentence. “…I bet yer jealous. Your team ain’t got a great matchup against some’a those, huh, Suit?”

  The two men locked eyes across the table, and Hoshi rolled his own pair as the tension pulsing across the inside of his skull built, crested, and broke in-time with each beat of his heart. “No battling indoors. I’m sure you two can find the time to let your water types at each other before we arrive, so keep it in your pants for now. Anybody else have any issues?”

  Another round of responses communicated that they didn’t, and the table fell silent as everyone’s attention went back to the food – but as he ate, Hoshi’s mind wandered towards his own teammates. Wasn’t able to get much in the way of experience with Rivet or Moony yesterday. Might be a bad omen; somehow, I feel like we won’t be getting out of Vermilion without trouble.

  Despite being less-than-flavourful trail rations, the breakfast did its job; by the time Hoshi was finished his headache had decreased, a full belly taking the edge off his fatigue and maybe-possibly-hopefully-not-a concussion. In short order everyone was assembled on the yacht’s deck, where a frazzled Jessie – who’d managed to find what looked like an actual honest-to-Arcus military sailor’s uniform somewhere, to his quiet bafflement – had them line up.

  “Before anything else, I want to congratulate you once again on weathering the past few days,” she said, the morning light bouncing off the magenta crescent of her hair, its colour complimented by the white and blue of the old-fashioned hat she’d donned. She and James sure like to dress up – I suppose Meowth got it from them. On that note… where did he get off to? The ship isn’t nearly big enough to hide, but I haven’t seen him since we boarded. “We- I’m aware that the level of difficulty the organisation has asked you to face has been… taxing. Know that the rewards that await at the end of this will be wholly commis- commensurate with the effort you’ve put in. Despite many of you being relatively recent hires, you were able to drive away two Gym Leader-level threats without casualty, rooting out a traitor on the way and securing my and James’s victory against Fuchsia’s forces on a strategic level. Despite your lack of experience, I have no doubt you’ll prove yourselves just as competent going forwards.”

  Multiple emotions tugged at Hoshi’s chest as the woman paused. There was bitterness; the impulse to push the praise away both because it came from someone he no longer trusted, and at the same time because he felt it was just plain undeserved. A small ember of pride came from the other end, from the part of him that did trust, that did accept. Mingling amusement and worry filled out the edges as the executive flailed, the charisma she’d shown over the past months coming apart slightly without James to bounce off of.

  All of those conflicting emotions were bundled up and swallowed – to be digested later when his boss wasn’t speaking, when he wasn’t standing in a line in full view of everyone, when his head didn’t pulse like a second heart. Fuck, I might actually need to go see a doctor if this keeps up.

  Like someone adjusting to the loss of a limb, Jessie played off the gap she’d left for a non-existent continuation with a combination of hidden embarrassment and overt determination. “A-hem. But putting the accolades aside, I think it’s time to get down to the nitty-gritty of what our plan is. Meowth?”

  Another pause as she looked to the side, though this one was more natural. Hoshi followed her eyes to the cabin’s front door, which opened to reveal the named persian – wearing a gigantic pirate hat, because of course he was – carrying a roll of paper in his mouth. Arc, that’s actually funny. How the fuck can I find it funny after the ‘mon killed, like, three people yesterday? People who’d shot at them, yeah, but Hoshi was still startled by the ease with which he was shrugging it off. Is it because he’s a Pokémon? If it’d been Jessie or James, would I see it differently..?

  He pondered it as Meowth padded close, swinging around the line of Rockets to sit by Jessie’s side. The large cat tilted his head up and allowed the woman to delicately extract the paper from between his teeth, and Hoshi was forced to set yet more introspection aside as the briefing began in earnest.

  The roll unfurled, revealing a map of Vermilion. “As you can see,” Jessie said, gesturing to a few marked spots as she paced across the assembly, making sure everyone could see up-close, “Our forces are scattered among several small safehouses across the city, primarily in or near the Young District. They’ve been ordered to stay put until contacted, and it is you who will be doing the contacting; you will split into four groups – the makeup of which I’ll leave to your discretion – and activate one cell each. As I create a suitably attention-grabbing distraction, you will make your own way to Saffron City with your fellows; they should have the resources necessary to do so, though of course any extras you can procure would go a long way. Any questions?”

  Ryan raised his hand, but it was Kenny who spoke first. “We can grab shit on the way through? What about, uh, people?”

  “I anticipated this question,” Jessie said with a nod. “In point of fact, Grunt Kaneth, we’ll be making landfall quite close to your place of residence. I’m sure there will be one or two of Kanto’s lovely law enforcers keeping an eye out for you, but should you manage to disable them without making a fuss, well…” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “I certainly won’t object to any of you making a brief pitstop. You’ll be responsible for this mysterious person’s wellbeing, of course, and I do expect you to make your way to Saffron quite quickly… so be certain of what you want to do before you do it.” The words came with a strange weight, her tone holding concern while still being an order. “Our next moves will be no less dangerous than the past few days; it might be that your loved ones are safer where they are.”

  Hoshi was reminded that for all their antics, their weirdness, their charm, and the fact that he’d never actually seen them battle…

  Jessie and James had been doing this for decades. They’d been gangsters while he was still in his crib – before he was even born, maybe. If there was such a thing as an Elite Four of the underworld, the woman in front of him would be a contender.

  Kenny, too, must have felt the significance of her words; his face seemed to narrow as he rocked back just the slightest amount, eyes squinting in thought. “I hear ya, boss. Loud ‘n clear.” Jessie nodded his way a second time, then passed her eyes over the crowd.

  “Grunt Sampo?”

  Ryan’s hand lowered. “What level of authority will we command within these cells, ma’am?”

  “A negligible amount,” came the answer, swiftly and mercilessly cutting the ambitious man down. “Sorry, but despite your successes I can’t put you above the Junior Executives who’ve been toiling away for years. Though, at the risk of getting ahead of things…” Her plush, ruby-painted lips curled. “That won’t be the case for long. You have all impressed me. And I know James would say the same – will say the same, when he recovers.”

  Despite the disappointed anger wafting in a dark cloud from his shoulders, Ryan spoke evenly. “I understand, ma’am. I hope to continue to exceed your expectations.”

  The briefing continued as the sun rose higher into the sky. Of the eleven Rockets lined up before their commanding officer, Ryan was the most vocal – Hoshi would usually feel the need to assert himself, but at the moment he wasn’t really feeling it.

  Arc, my head… Is it getting worse..?

  It definitely wasn’t getting better, and so as they arranged themselves into four groups to match the four cells they’d be activating, he was mostly silent.

  Ryan, as Hoshi’d expected him to, took the three rookies. Cliff argued he was fine on his own, but it was obvious that his leg was still bothering him – Hoshi thought about sending Kenny his way, but Puce all but forced herself into the enforcer’s side with an uncharacteristic sternness. I guess that’s a good thing? Puce isn’t a great battler, it’ll be better if she’s with the strongest person. Bart and Mimi paired up as well…

  Which left Hoshi, Casca, and Kenny as the final group. Jessie clapped her hands with finality as each group chose a safehouse to visit, and the plan went from liquid to solid. “Excellent! We have a few hours still to go before we make landfall, so I’ll leave you to your own devices – I’ll be in the cabin if anyone needs me!”

  She sent out a few nods, and that was apparently that. The executive retreated indoors – where she’s probably going to try and catch a nap, she looked as tired as I feel – leaving the grunts and enforcer on the deck.

  Them, and Meowth. The persian had been completely silent during the meeting, not even meowing, and as they broke up he continued the trend. He looked out to sea with his eyes half-lidded, paying them little attention – if any at all.

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  Is he..? Remembering being a pirate? Reflecting on killing those bikers?

  But Hoshi’s internal questioning was interrupted before it could go anywhere. “Hey,” Mojo said, approaching with his meowth twining around his legs. “Ryan’s gonna do some training with us. That fine with you? You’re like, his boss right?”

  Hoshi blinked. “Yeah, I’m the Senior Grunt in charge of most of these guys.” Which he should know. Less so, with Jessie around now, but still. “And yeah, that’s fine. I’ll probably join you in a sec – just wanted to talk to my boss here. Hah.”

  While Meowth must’ve definitely heard them, he didn’t so much as glance their way. Mojo turned a curious eye to the persian, his Pokémon doing the same, but the sight of the large cat decked out in pirate garb didn’t seem to grab either of them the way it did Hoshi. “Cool. Look…” Mojo stepped close, and as he turned his full attention to the man Hoshi finally noticed the slightly tense, serious look etching his scraggly features.

  “Mojo?”

  “I’ve gotta ask – is this, like, possible, man? I’m gonna be honest, I only joined so that that knucklehead-” A gesture towards Tor, who was conversing with Ryan as his girlfriend tapped her foot. “-Didn’t do something dumb. But it looks like I’m the dumbass, ‘cause we went and joined, like, the day before shit went south. So are we just fucked?”

  Hoshi eyed the man, torn between honesty and the need to moderate himself because Meowth was right there. Arc damnit. My head hurts too much for politics. “…Define ‘fucked’ in this context.”

  The rough-skinned man’s face made an expression too controlled to be a sneer, but too hostile to be a mere frown. “I mean fucked, man. Like, I’ve been in one battle so far, and everybody was getting their asses kicked all over the damn place. You get me?”

  Again, multiple emotions pulled Hoshi’s innards in their own conflicting directions; he wanted to say they’d be fine, that their new, stronger Pokémon – alongside the stronger Rockets they were gathering – would see them through… But honesty compelled him to admit, even if only to himself, that this whole thing was still an outrageous gamble. We might not get to the end we want. We might end up in cells, or smeared across the pavement by Clair’s gyarados. But…

  But even if Meowth hadn’t been present, he didn’t think he’d be compelled to say that out loud. Whatever the reason had been, Mojo had joined up – and though it was fucking hypocritical as fuck, telling him to bail out right after they’d already gone through the fire two nights ago offended something deep in Hoshi’s soul. So he opened his mouth, and said what he’d have needed to hear if he were in the man’s place.

  “You came into this through Free the League, right? You seem like a savvy guy – I think you must’ve known there’d be some bloody work before it was done, even if you didn’t want to admit it. So man the fuck up; fucked or not, you’ve got work to do.”

  He held Mojo’s gaze as the grunt’s expression edged towards something properly angry – and then broke. Though the anger stayed, he looked away, the blue of his eyes obscured by multicoloured flashes of emotion. “Fuck man, why’d it have to be the literal fucking day? I’m a damn baseball player, I don’t know this Poké-training shit.” He continued to turn, his voice quieting to a mutter. “Should’a made the lovebirds wait another week, avoided this whole shit. On a boat in the middle ‘a Arc-damned nowhere. Smelt the shit coming, why didn’t I listen to my damn gut..?”

  The grousing actually brought a thin smile to Hoshi’s lips; his speech had managed to do what he’d wanted. “Train hard, man!” he sent the retreating Mojo’s way, receiving a middle finger in return. Hah. Maybe I should talk to the other two, they’re probably-

  “Meow.”

  Or not. Maybe later. Turning back to Meowth, Hoshi saw that the Pokémon had finally stopped staring at the ocean. “Sir?”

  “You,” Meowth said, the word comprehensible but… crooked. Hoshi wouldn’t use the term accent; it went further than that – Meowth’s mouth, his jaw and lips and tongue and probably his throat and lungs, were simply inhuman. Nothing about him was built for verbal communication, and as he continued to speak Hoshi felt the near-painful strain that was necessary to twist his anatomy to that purpose, the obviousness of it dancing on every mangled syllable. “Wanted to talk. So, talk.”

  “…Right. Uh…” Don’t hesitate. Don’t stutter. “Are you okay, sir? You and Jessie seem… off.” You’re kind of the lynchpin on this whole thing; I can’t imagine pulling off an assault on the League without you. If you flake out, we really are just fucked.

  The persian turned back to the sea. “No waves. B- baad omen. No cloud. No bird, no fish.”

  Hoshi blinked. I mean… yeah, that’s freaky, but… It occurred to him that maybe the months-long storm had knocked his ability to judge the weather a bit out-of-whack. “Is that really so bad?”

  “If just started, would think su- ts-” A pause. “Tsu. Na. Mi. Long gap between last Kanto speech and now; un pr-r-racticed.”

  Tsunami? “But- you said if it just started-” Calm down. “You don’t think it’s that now?”

  “No.”

  Hoshi waited for an explanation, but Meowth only continued to look out at the water stretching towards the horizon. On one edge there was distant land, while the other three were only a near-waveless blue-green expanse. Just like he said… No fish, no birds. I didn’t even notice… “You didn’t answer me. How bad?” Against his better judgment, something demanding crept into Hoshi’s tone; he was spooked now, and the fear was transmuting to anger under the influence of the great black mass still sitting in his core.

  Meowth looked at Hoshi again, slit pupils widened like black gibbous moons. Despite his cartoonish pirate hat falling just slightly askew, the senior grunt no longer felt amused. “Not good. Can’t say more – but not good. Feels like sor- storm coming.”

  Mojo Concolour didn’t really think of himself as a smart guy – he also didn’t think of himself as dumb, but he was probably south of average. That was why he’d dedicated his school life to learning to hit a ball with a stick real hard, instead of math or some booksmart shit like that.

  But again, not dumb. He’d learned to trust his gut… And his gut said they were deep in the shit, super-strong Pokémon or no.

  “Ah,” the blond Ryan Sampo grunted in his upper-class accent as Mojo rejoined the group, the sound aimed at Lily. “Sand Attack?”

  “That’s right,” she replied, tone cool, and Mojo got the impression that he must’ve missed some kind of argument. Next to her a giant bird shifted from claw to claw, expressing unease. “Is that a problem?” Despite the rising tone of a question at the end, the sentence had been an undeniable challenge.

  Ryan’s returning words were awkward, the first time Mojo’d heard that emotion from the man. “No, of course not. Evasion strategies are…” Watching Lily shut the guy up for three consecutive seconds – also a first, hah – would’ve been funny, if they weren’t about to maybe probably definitely get into another scuffle with the police, with the Rocket grunt as their only backup. “…A…” Wow, he must fucking hate that shit. “Perfectly valid strategy. I’m simply concerned that it puts… all the eggs in one basket, so to speak.”

  Mojo slid in beside Tor, sending his friend a whisper as he did. “What’d I miss?”

  The reply was absentminded, the pitcher’s attention on the ongoing argument. “Lily’s pidgeot has Sand Attack, Feather Dance, and Roost.”

  Huh. Mojo didn’t recognise the moves in isolation – he really only caught the major tournaments, he wasn’t a Pokémaniac – but in-context, the combination was obvious. “Feather Dance’s that thing the cop did, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Would’a been useful for us to use it back on the road, then.”

  Tor shrugged. “Lily didn’t trust the bird where she couldn’t see it – and we didn’t know all the moves back then anyway.”

  Mojo grunted his understanding as Ryan’s face badly hid his sour feelings. Maybe he lost to that combo in the past? He seems the type to hold a grudge. The batter liked to think he could read people pretty well, but with the young gangster any amount of skill was unnecessary; Ryan wore his heart on his sleeve. It was actually kind of weird; if he’d met the guy under any other circumstance, Mojo would’ve taken him as some businessman’s kid. He didn’t act like a criminal.

  But then he’d say some hard shit, and the reality of what they were doing would reassert itself – and on cue, it happened. “I’m just saying,” Ryan whined, the childish frustration leaking into his voice kind of actually fucking chilling as he gestured towards the bird, “That it lacks killing power. Wing Attack isn’t enough; we’ll have to pick up a Technical Machine or two on the way through town.”

  Killing power. There we go, there’s the gangster. “Ain’t got the money for that, bossman,” Mojo injected into the tension between the two trainers, and they both turned his way.

  Lily sniffed. “Obviously he’s offering to pay. Come on Mo, read between the lines.”

  The ‘training session’ – if you could call it that when three-fourths of the supposed trainers didn’t know what the fuck they were doing – got slightly less heated after that. Mojo paired off with Tor, while Ryan tried to get Lily’s nidorino to show off its fourth move on the man’s farfetch’d.

  “Hey Tor,” he said, paying only a little attention to their wrestling raticate and persian. The duck was a lot more impressive; despite being completely wild only a few days ago, it swung the cut leek it used as a sword like a trained samurai. “Pokémon only get four moves, right?”

  Tor looked away from their Pokémon as well, silently conceding that yeah, despite being way stronger than their starters these new ‘mons were still missing something. Probably the thing that’s missing is ‘a competent trainer,’ hah. “I think you can train them to know five or six? I know the Elite Four use more than that, but those might be disc moves. Uh, Raticate, Bite attack!”

  Mojo frowned as the inordinately fat, black-furred rat lunged. “Dodge, Persian! Stay away and use Swift!”

  The two began chasing each other up and down the deck, and it wasn’t long before they bumbled into the other training Pokémon. Ryan looked over the unfolding brawl with frustration, to which Mojo could only shrug. As they returned their various monsters it was actually Lily who chastised them, fixing the men with a frown.

  “I expected Mojo to clown around, but you too? Come on Tor, this is serious.”

  Yeah, Mojo thought as his best friend gave a quiet explanation to the woman. Yeah, it is. I ain’t clowning, Lil. Not this time.

  “Magnet Bomb!”

  Hoshi’s magneton, who he’d christened Rivet mostly because he couldn’t think of anything more original, let loose an electronic shriek as marble-sized balls of steel – so just ball bearings, really – were extruded from its body. The bearings flew forward, and like Guts’s Swift they tracked their opponent.

  Not that Candy didn’t try to dodge; her rigid body flew through the air with Rapid Spin, the starfish’s form blurring slightly like a painting left in the rain.

  Hah, Hoshi thought. Knew it – she’s learned Camouflage! The staryu obviously hadn’t mastered it yet – she was still pretty visible – but even if she had, Rivet would’ve invalidated it with its sure-hit move.

  Casca’s jaw clenched as Candy endured the hit, the bearings exploding into dissolving shrapnel as they made contact. It didn’t do as much damage as it could’ve given their respective types, but still the staryu reeled; Rivet was older, stronger, evolved, and that was enough to tip the scales even when Hoshi wasn’t completely sure of its movepool.

  “Candy!” she cried. “Recover and Harden up!”

  “Oh no you don’t! Thunder!”

  In truth, Hoshi wasn’t entirely sure what his Pokémon’s electric attack actually was; it might actually be Thunderbolt, or even Thunder Shock boosted to the nines by Rivet’s natural strength. But they responded to the command regardless, and out came a super-effective bolt of electricity that struck Candy mid-regeneration, putting a stop to the attempted buff. “Ha! C’mon Casca, that’s not enough!”

  “Boo! Pick on someone your own size!” The playful comment was accompanied by the sound of Candy’s return, followed shortly by a louder noise as a different water type was released. “Like this big lady! Cloyster, use Leer! Follow it up with an ice move!”

  The giant floating clam did its best, but wasn’t quite able to overcome the type disadvantage. Quake would’ve been the obvious counter, but unfortunately it was too dangerous to release her; the dugtrio would instinctively try to burrow, and since they were on a wooden boat in the middle of the ocean that would be… well, bad didn’t quite communicate the magnitude of it.

  So Casca was forced to rely on another of her new Pokémon when the first one lost consciousness. “Ludicolo, come out!”

  The ‘mon that appeared was bipedal, but not humanoid except in the loosest possible sense – Hoshi would compare it to a primeape, actually. Shaggy fur covered its ovular body, thick and yellow-green like dying grass, while its top was topped by a waxy-looking lilypad. Its face was placed on the ludicolo’s upper half, in a slightly nebulous place; without any neck to divide head from torso, Hoshi didn’t really have a word for it. It isn’t a ball with limbs like Venus, but it’s pretty close. Said face was mostly beak, though not one that felt analogous to any bird’s, with two expressive eyes being the only other feature.

  “Huh, bigger than they look on TV.” Hoshi was vaguely familiar with the Pokémon – it was really popular in Bob’s hometown, for whatever reason – but in more of a this is a strong-ish Pokémon from the islands way than anything more personal. “But still, adding grass only makes it neutral! Thunder!”

  “Teeter Dance!”

  Rivet lost to accumulated damage, letting Moony the ursaring come out and clean up with Slash. That was the only move Hoshi had been able to suss out in the small amount of time he’d dedicated to training the previous day, but he was certain the rest would come swiftly – Moony seemed like an Ace Trainer’s Pokémon, so all he had to do was keep on it and muscle memory would eventually see the small bear use her full arsenal even if he didn’t chance on the right combo of words and body language on his own.

  Next came a vileplume, which put the ursaring to sleep, and so the casual match ended in a drag-out fight between Venus and the ambulatory flower.

  When it was done he healed everyone up, and then turned to the rest of the battling grunts with a determined tension in his jaw. A little more. I made sure my Pokémon, at least, got a good sleep outside stasis – with all the Potions Meowth stole, we can afford to go a bit harder than back on the road.

  It was just a hair after noon by the time Vermilion City became properly visible, individual buildings melting out of the mass of concrete and glass that encompassed the jutting curve of land. It felt strange; Hoshi had never seen it from this angle, only from inside or above through a screen. Feels like we're gonna run right into the cannons, hah. That’d be a way to go, wouldn’t it?

  “Alright Grunts,” Jessie announced into the anticipatory silence. “One last run-through. Enforcer Moon, you and Grunt Gracile will be contacting Junior Executive Dwayne Tatsuhiko in the Wharf District. Senior Grunt Mutsu and his group will be similarly going after Junior Executive Tanya Remond in the Old District, while Grunt Kazubara and his lovely companion will be contacting Senior Grunt Bowls in the Young District. Grunt Ryan, your target is also in the Young District; Junior Executive Quirius Sambac. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you again…” She cleared her throat. “Any last-minute comments?”

  A flurry of head-shakes, one of which was Hoshi’s. No, I think we get it. But it was obvious that Jessie was suffering as many nerves as the rest of them, so he opened his mouth. “We understand our orders, ma’am. See you in Saffron.”

  They hit the coast, right near Kenny’s house as Jessie had said, and disembarked swiftly. With only a single moment devoted to looking back at the big, expensive yacht they were abandoning like trash, Hoshi stepped onto the gritty, ugly beach that lined the city of his heart, if not his birth. Huh. Kind of smells like fish – was that always there?

  The silly thought caused his lips to bend despite the headache still squeezing his temples, and he jogged after the already-running Kenny towards the man’s home, Casca on his heel. “Wait up! We’re scoping the place out first, obviously!”