Chapter Text
[It's been four years since the death of the Rust Syndicate leader, Corbeau, who was shot by an unnamed suspect or suspects who remain wanted by the international police. There was no known motive for the murder but detectives believed it was a disagreement between two groups.]
[The Rust Syndicate, known for its predatory loans, debts, and also community services, had since disbanded after Corbeau’s death. The building became a high-end premium department store. The interiors that were once owned by the Syndicate’s former leader, Philippe, remained inside on display.]
[The former leader Philippe had since left Lumiose after the tragedy and he was last heard to be living in the Unova region.]
In a small cramped hut, a small TV statics playing a news report from Kalos, two workers were half watching but hearing the name of Philippe made them question if they heard it right. Sure enough, they didn’t misheard; a photo of a large man with a short mohawk, a unique mutton chops with two short spike-like tusks on each side, and finally his unique silver-colored eyes were shown. Without a doubt, it is the same Philippe, their co-worker.
The photo shows how young he looked compared to now; between the murder and today, it looked like he aged almost a decade. The luxury suits he often wears must have been in the closet for so long that it must’ve been collecting dust, now wearing a low income work attire. His hair and chops were beginning to look more silver-colored than black, and his eyes-or eye was missing. Now covered with a purple eye-patch, probably lost an eye back in Lumiose. Despite everything however, his physique surprisingly stayed the same, his strength was on par to a Machoke or even a Conkeldurr. He is still a bodyguard physically, but not mentally.
Hearing that Philippe was a former leader and executive of the Rust Syndicate, most of his co-workers kept their distance, not wanting to get on his bad side, or worse, awaken the beast.
The sound of a door opening startled the two men. One of them, with buttered fingers, awkwardly grabbed the remote trying to turn off the TV. The door widened; a large silhouette frightened the men, they knew who it was. Philippe. He was bundled up from head to toe, just like the others. Except the only thing they saw was his one eye and a purple-colored eye-patch that often times the first thing everyone sees. They pretend as if they hadn’t just learned about his past. But the large man didn’t care; as long as he didn't hear that name.
“Hey Philippe! What’s up?” The first man greeted. Philippe made a small wave at them, without saying a word and his eye looked away not wanting any eye contact.
The two men knew Philippe is a soft spoken man, but they also knew, after what happened, had no reason to speak to anyone but a selected few. Everyone working in the Twist Mountain had to, at the very least, respect that.
“Heading home?” The second man asked, knowing Philippe would only nod. But to their surprise, while the large grabbed his belongings he shook his head. They both look at the clock; 6:15 pm. At this hour? Where the hell is he going?
“Oh, got plans I see! Well I hope you have fun Philippe.” The second man gave Philippe a thumbs up. The first man smiles; showing the large man their kindness despite knowing who he was in his prime. The first man looked down, seemingly debating whether to bring it up or not.
“Phil...hmm, be safe out there.” A wise choice.
“Thank you.” Philippe murmured through the thick black scarf. The two men looked up at Philippe with a surprised look, hearing the unspoken. Witnessing a mute man speaking for the first time.
Philippe sighed, heading towards the door before hearing a cheer.
“See you around, big guy!”
“!!!”
Philippe stopped, jolting upon hearing those words. He started to shake, holding on the door knob tightly. Uh oh. They unlocked a memory. A rather sweet one. But no, he doesn’t want to remember, he tried so hard not to. Yet, it comes back to him. No. No. No! He doesn’t want to see him. He doesn’t deserve it. Please, not like this. NOT LIKE THIS! WHY HIM? WHY DIDN’T THEY KILL ME INSTEAD? I DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE! WHY? WHY? WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
WHY?
SNAP!
An odd sound echoed in the small hut; Philippe snapped back to reality. Looking down, he realized he broke the door knob off the wooden door. The two men just witnessed the large man’s pure strength first hand. They were amazed but also afraid. Philippe look back at the men before looking down at the knob, placing it on the table before giving them a bow to apologize for the damage (though they are not the ones he should be apologizing. That would be Clay). Philippe stepped out of the shack, leaving the two men alone still shocked.
At the entrance way to Icirrus City, his new home, Philippe could finally relax, letting out a loud sigh. Tugging his scarf downward from his mouth, revealing his half sliver half black chops, he looked up at the night sky. Seeing how beautiful it is, he couldn’t help but to get teary eyes. He shook his head and looked down in disgust before walking to town.
“I don’t deserve it.”