Before Akiyama could probe any further, the Center's doors slid open and Officer Jenny walked in with a Scizor at her shoulder.
The ceiling lights ran along its carapace and came back cold.
The Jennys and Joys of this world were nothing like the pushovers from the cartoons he remembered. One was the most authoritative legal body around; the other, the most authoritative medical one. Both could fight, and neither should be underestimated.
Because this city sat out in the wild and ran on its own peculiar rules, the local Jenny's team was Scizor and Scyther.
"Mr. Akiyama. Nurse Joy briefed me. I need the details from you." She stopped in front of him, all business.
Akiyama nodded and started from the beginning—from the bus into the city and Hikaze's mystery boxes.
When he got to the pink Butterfree, Jenny cut him off and turned to look at Hikaze, waiting for an explanation.
"There is a rumor to that effect in Greenlight City, and yes, there was a pink Butterfree in that case tonight." Hikaze spread his hands, the picture of innocence.
Then, apparently reading the room: "It's possible the man was on that bus. He could have overheard the whole conversation."
"And you both know there's no Heracross on my team. My strongest Pokémon are… old, or already gone."
The smile went out of his face on that last part, and something raw showed through.
"Sorry. That was careless of me," Akiyama said quietly.`
"Understood." Jenny let it go. "We already have people examining the site. Stay here and wait. Inside a Pokémon Center, I can guarantee your safety."
She pulled a flash drive out of her pocket, slotted it into the holo-terminal against the wall, and waited on word from the others.
Greenlight City had no internet to speak of, but law enforcement ran its own mobile network.
"I'm sorry this happened to you in my city. The failure is mine," Hikaze said, and meant it.
"I'm the one who should be apologizing to you." Akiyama had cooled off enough to shake his head.
Hikaze understood him perfectly. "I know how you feel. It's fine. I only hope they catch him."
"Yeah."
Word came through quickly.
"I'm sorry to say the site is already overgrown. No usable evidence." Jenny pulled the drive. "But you'll have an answer from us before morning. You have my word."
She left with Scizor.
"Scizor—Flash Cannon. Clear us a path!"
From daybreak to the small hours, Greenlight City belonged to people. But for those few hours around dawn, when the Mother Tree poured nutrients down into the earth, it belonged to the plants.
Within minutes the road away from the Pokémon Center simply wasn't there anymore.
The doors closed, and quiet settled over the lobby again.
Nanami stood with her arms folded, thumb moving over a Poké Ball, saying nothing.
Then the treatment room door opened, and a very energetic Gardevoir came out of it.
"Garde!"
She hurried straight to Akiyama to inform him personally that she was fine, then pulled him into her arms like he was the one who needed comforting.
"Okay, okay. I'm all right. I'm all right." He was smiling now.
"You should all stay here tonight. A Pokémon Center is about as safe as—"
Hikaze didn't get to finish. A very familiar crash rolled in from outside.
The same sound as Scizor's Flash Cannon.
"Did they find him?" Nanami asked.
"Doubt it. That was close by. Probably still clearing road," Hikaze said.
Nanami 's eyebrows came down. "This place is a nightmare to work in. The guy picked his night well."
"It's only a nightmare for humans. Greenlight City is still paradise. Just not ours." Hikaze said it patiently, letting the second half of her remark go by.
At the word guy, something in Gardevoir went taut.
"Garde!"
She was furious.
She was supposed to be the one protecting Akiyama.
And he'd protected her again.
She sucked one corner of her mouth in and held it there, radiating displeasure at nobody in particular.
"Hey. You did great. I mean it." Akiyama didn't need her to say a word to know what was going on in her head.
Maybe it came from all those years of being taken care of, but Gardevoir carried a permanent sense that she owed him. She wanted to be strong—big, unmistakably strong—so she could stand in front of him for once.
What she didn't know was that from the day she'd hatched, she'd been the one filling in a heart that decades in another world had worn down to rubble.
"They're very close," Hikaze said, warmly.
"If you're honest with each other, every Trainer and Pokémon ends up like that." Nanami 's flat expression softened at the corners as she looked down at the red and white ball in her hand.
Gyarados's ball.
She wanted to say that she and Gyarados were that close too. Her personality wouldn't let the words out, so she took the long way around and hoped somebody caught it.
"Ah, youth." Hikaze sighed at nothing. One minute you were a kid with fire in you, and then you were the old guy in the room.
Everyone was worn out enough to agree on rooms and rest until Jenny had news. Greenlight City was too complicated tonight; anyone trying to help would only be in the way.
Akiyama's backpack was still sitting on the couch where he'd left it.
He dropped onto the bed and let the soft comforter swallow him. It smelled faintly of wood.
You sleep. I'll keep watch, Kadabra volunteered.
"This place is safe. You sleep too." Kadabra had carried that fight, and he was still running on empty.
If you don't mind, a few Energy Cubes would put me back together quickly.
The upgrade from Akiyama's hidden gift had already returned some of his stamina and pushed his raw ability higher. Old injuries from his years on the road were quietly knitting shut.
Like Gardevoir, he'd simply filed all of it under Akiyama can do things.
"All right." Kadabra wasn't going to be talked out of it, so Akiyama stopped trying. He got under the blanket beside Gardevoir and was out inside a minute.
Once he was sure they were both asleep, Kadabra used Confusion to open the backpack as quietly as possible and lifted out the box of Energy Cubes—still a quarter full.
A short while later there wasn't a single cube left.
The fantasy energy inside him came back fast.
He didn't go through anything else in the bag. He put it back exactly where it had been, drifted up off the floor, and hung there in the dark with his eyes half-lidded.
Downstairs, Hikaze positioned himself so his body blocked the holo-terminal. When Nurse Joy's back was turned, he slotted in a flash drive and sent one message.
Then he took it out again, left no trace of himself, and went back up to his room.
In the minds of Akiyama and Gardevoir, both deeply asleep, small points of green glow began to kindle.
The Mother Tree's portion of the fruit was only now beginning to do its work.
Invisible green bubbles rose out of them both, drifted, met, collided, and merged.
Kadabra, keeping watch, sensed absolutely nothing.
And inside the joined bubble, an image began to take shape.