Chapter Text
When you’d woken up this morning, you’d been feeling fairly optimistic. You were progressing nicely in the Z-A Royale, your Pokémon were getting stronger every day, and you’d started to feel like Lumiose could offer you something more than a temporary stop on your journey.
Then, out of nowhere, you’d been summoned by the head of the Rust Syndicate, and that optimistic bubble had been well and truly popped.
Now, without quite knowing how you’d got here, you found yourself standing opposite one of the most dangerous men you’d ever encountered, struggling to understand how Urbain’s bad life choices had suddenly become your problem.
“As the leader of Team MZ has conveniently dropped off the face of the earth, it seems that it falls to you to honour the deal he made,” Corbeau was saying, his brow furrowed.
You fought the urge to fidget where you stood, feeling impossibly out of place in the imposing office. Black marble pillars rose on either side of you, streaked through with gold. It suited the man behind the desk perfectly. You resented it anyway.
Corbeau tilted his head, looking at you consideringly. It struck you, even as you glowered at him, that he could be considered quite beautiful. Under different circumstances, of course.
“Here is what I am willing to offer you,” he said, his voice neutral. “You are a highly skilled trainer, which makes you valuable, and you are developing quite the reputation around the city.”
You crossed your arms, waiting for the catch. He seemed to notice your guarded expression, and smirked, adjusting his glasses.
“You would be quite the addition to the Syndicate,” he mused. Despite yourself, you inhaled suddenly as his words hit you. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting…
Corbeau leaned forward, his eyes completely focused on you. It felt like you couldn’t breathe without him analysing your every move, always several steps ahead.
“You will leave Team MZ,” he said, those golden eyes boring into you. “You will join me. Wear my symbol. Represent the Syndicate as you continue to rise through the Z-A ranks. When you are victorious, it will be in my name.”
You felt your mouth dropping open in horror as his smirk deepened into a look of utter confidence. He leaned back in his chair, a kind of fire you’d never seen before behind his expression.
“In exchange,” he continued. “I will eradicate the interest on Urbain’s loan. Whenever he re-emerges”, his face twisted into a snarl, “it will fall to him to repay the original sum.”
“I,” you stammered, finally finding your voice. “I can’t do that. Team MZ is my family.”
To your horror, you felt your eyes begin to fill with tears, blinking them away furiously. “Please,” you tried, hating the way your voice wavered. “There must be something else. Anything else.”
Corbeau’s expression shuttered, and he made a derisive noise before sitting back in his chair.
“I believe my terms were more than fair,” he said, his voice hard. “But I’m a reasonable man. What else do you believe you have to offer me, then?”
Your eyes widened as you looked at him, feeling your cheeks heat up at where your racing mind had led you. He was certainly attractive, but still… You chased the thought away just as quickly as it had appeared, grasping for anything else you could barter with – something he might actually want from you.
“I’m sure I can work something out,” you said, uncertain, twisting your hands in front of you. “I mean, if I could have a little time.”
“Hmm.” Corbeau looked unimpressed. He was still laser-focused on you. You desperately tried to ignore how heady it felt, how you could feel your heartbeat racing in your chest.
“Please,” you tried again. “I can’t leave Team MZ. Aside from my Pokémon, they’re all I have.”
He inhaled slowly, rubbing at his temple with one hand.
“Three days,” he said lowly. “You have three days to offer me an alternative of equal value to my proposition. Otherwise, we will default to the original deal.”
You nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and determination race through you.
“Thank you,” you said, hearing the note of palpable relief in your tone. “You won’t be disappointed.”
His eyes flicked from your face down to your shoes and back up again. Despite yourself, you found yourself hoping that he liked what he saw.
“See to it that I’m not,” he said evenly. As you turned to go, you could’ve sworn you spotted the first hint of a smile on his face.
It didn’t bring you much comfort.
* * *
Days later, you gasped for breath as you dodged another of the aggressive Alpha Roselia’s attacks. You clutched your side where the fabric of your jacket had torn, trying to focus despite how increasingly light-headed you felt.
It had been…you weren’t even sure how long it’d been since your meeting with Corbeau. Since he’d thrown down the gauntlet and set you a challenge you were so determined to rise to. And rise to it you had – after some research into the Syndicate, you had come to the baffling conclusion that Corbeau seemed to be in the business of protecting the city, for all that he played up the intimidation factor and seemed to revel in coming across as downright shady. And protecting the city was something you were already well-versed in – perhaps more so than was strictly good for you.
So, armed with this information, you had set out to make your play, and had spent every waking moment over the last few days calming rogue megas, helping civilians in need, clearing crystals, and generally trying to complete any and all tasks you thought might meet with Corbeau’s approval.
And you whilst you had been vehemently, passionately opposed to leaving Team MZ, everything you had accomplished in your newfound mission to please Corbeau, you had done openly in his name. You certainly wouldn’t go so far as to don one of those lurid uniforms, but whenever a grateful citizen had asked who you worked for, who they should be thanking for a job well done, you had simply smiled and handed them one of the Rust Syndicate business cards you’d swiped on your way out during that fateful visit to their headquarters.
Unfortunately, your single-minded mission to wipe out the interest without being forced away from your Team MZ family had come at something of a cost. You’d missed out on the Royale for the last few nights, electing instead to scour the rooftops for rogue Pokémon in need of help or yet more mega crystals to demolish. You hadn’t paused for more than a coffee, either, or at most a few stolen moments resting on a bench, which you were now sorely coming to regret. You’d returned to the hotel only briefly each night to shower and change, skilfully avoiding your teammates, the dubious leftover curry Urbain had stored in the fridge for you before his untimely disappearance, and any unwanted questions they may have about your current activities.
You’d built up a tolerance to low sleep since arriving in Lumiose, or so you’d thought. Rising through the ranks of a competition that only took place after sunset certainly hadn’t done your circadian rhythm any favours. But even you could admit that in your desperation to do enough good deeds for the city on Corbeau’s behalf, you might have overdone it this time.
You’d heard complaints about this Alpha Roselia terrorizing people and Pokémon alike and had decided resignedly that you were probably one of the only people for the job. You’d tracked it across the Lumiose skyline, feeling your joints start to complain but pushing on regardless. This latest target hadn’t seemed like it would be too troublesome when you’d approached, but the fatigue that had settled into your muscles had slowed you down more than you’d realised. What should have been a simple enough job for your partner Pokémon had turned into a bloodbath, and in your hasty efforts to pacify it, you’d been hit by several rounds of Stun Spore and Sleep Powder. Usually, you could shake off their effects without issue, but in your exhaustion, you could feel your limbs slowing where the powder had touched your bare skin.
You had entirely lost track of how long you’d been up here, vaguely aware that at some point, the sun had set behind you, and the red glow of that night’s Battle Zone had flickered into existence. You dodged out of the way of another attack as the thought shot through you that you’d likely missed Corbeau’s three-day deadline by now. Shit. But then - had he been counting from the exact time of your meeting, or had he meant to allow you until the end of the third day? He hadn’t exactly clarified, and it wasn’t as though you were used to working to the ambiguous deadlines of threatening men. Your head throbbed uncomfortably, your fatigued limbs screaming as you dodged again, and you pushed those particular fears out of your mind as best you could. You had other things to worry about, just now.
You’d have to beg for Corbeau’s forgiveness later.
Various aches and pains from the past few days were also making themselves known, including a few scrapes and cuts you’d been ignoring, but were now starting to pull and ache in a way that spelled trouble. Your head throbbed again. You swiped a palm across your forehead, pushing away hairs that had been stuck to your face, and vaguely registered the unpleasant stickiness of blood on your hands.
You hadn’t realised you were bleeding. That was probably not a good sign.
Roselia reared again, letting out a cry before unleashing yet another Giga Drain. You narrowly avoided it, ducking out of the way and reaching for your last Poké Ball. Distantly, you were aware of your fingers trembling.
Before you could summon your partner to your side, Roselia charged towards you, its red eyes locked onto you in the darkness, and you skittered backwards, feeling your lower back collide painfully with a railing. Winded, you glanced down behind you, a flash of real fear pulsing through you as you realised you might not have the strength to cling onto your Rotom to break your fall if things went really sideways.
In your panic, your eyes locked onto a possible escape route – and seemingly a more reliable one than plummeting to the ground and hoping for the best.
On the next building over, only a story down from where you were now, there was a balcony. The balcony doors looked to be ajar, with gauzy curtains illuminated by the low light within.
Eyes darting frantically back and forth, you tried to estimate the distance. It wouldn’t be a problem on a normal day, but you could feel your strength being leeched away from you with every passing moment. It wasn’t like you had any other ideas, though, and your damned fingers were still shaking too much to release your final Pokémon. If you could just have a moment to think – but Roselia was advancing again, and your breaths were becoming shallower and shallower.
You looked around you desperately, but there was nothing else for it. You sucked in a breath, hearing Roselia’s battle cry start up again. Clinging to the railing at your back, you forced your straining muscles to obey as you heaved yourself inelegantly over the bars, ducking to avoid what sounded like Magical Leaf as it went whirling over your head, missing you by a whisker.
Sending up a silent prayer, you pushed off from the rooftop, leaping down to the balcony. At the last minute, you pulled off a glide manoeuvre with the very last of your strength, landing quietly and falling immediately onto your knees.
You looked back up at the Roselia as it stalked away from the edge of the rooftop.
Those red eyes were going to haunt your dreams for a while.
* * *
Time slipped by as you gathered yourself, not moving from where you knelt on the high balcony. Your breathing slowed, and after a while you regained enough of your faculties to pull some antiseptic wipes and plasters out of your satchel. It felt good to patch yourself up, even as the antiseptic stung and your fingers shook. You were pretty confident that you weren’t actively bleeding anymore, which was something at least.
You gulped down some water, too, realising distantly that you were out of revives for your team. You’d forgotten to stock up in your haste to cancel out the interest. A pang of guilt went through your chest. You’d head to a Pokémon Centre as soon as you could convince yourself to move.
The trouble was, moving seemed to be posing something of an issue. You didn’t know whether it was the lingering effects of Roselia’s Stun Spore and Sleep Powder combo, the adrenaline crash, the sleep deprivation, or some ungodly combination of all three, but the idea of going anywhere seemed like a herculean challenge. Perhaps you could just stay here, at least for a little while longer.
It was peaceful, at least. Wrung out from having frantically worked non-stop for the past few days, you found yourself sinking further down on your knees, taking a moment to steady yourself.
Eventually, though, you heard your teeth begin to chatter and realised belatedly that you were shivering in the cold night air, chilled to the bone. You rubbed at your arms to no avail and closed your eyes. You’d catch your death if you stayed out here for much longer. There was nothing else for it. You would simply have to move.
Grabbing the balcony railing, you heaved, trying with all your remaining strength to pull yourself to your feet. You let out a quiet noise of surprise as you found yourself unable to do so. Your arms simply gave out, and you barely managed to catch yourself before sinking back down to the ground, head spinning from the attempt.
That was a no go, then. You peered behind you. Your first glance had been accurate – the balcony doors were slightly open. Hopefully, you could – what, exactly? Sneak through someone’s living room, out of their apartment, and into some secluded corner of the building where you could rest until morning?
Even in your addled state, you knew it was an extremely flimsy excuse for a plan, but you were out of options. Taking a breath and steeling yourself, you began to painstakingly inch towards the door on your hands and knees. Every movement felt heavy, as though the simple act of moving each limb was costing you much more than it should. You pushed through, gasping quietly in relief as you crossed the threshold and your hands met soft carpet.
You continued into the room, only now noticing the slight blurring of your vision. You could make out a few features in the dim lighting – dark, marbled wallpaper; the large shape dominating the room’s floor plan which must have been a king-sized bed, at least; the luxurious softness of the carpet beneath you. You dragged yourself onwards, making it to the foot of the bed before sitting back in a kneel, pausing to catch your breath.
Then, you heard it. Softly, muted by the carpet, but unmistakable – the sound of footsteps approaching.
Half-closed eyes still fixed on the carpet, you felt yourself freeze in place.
“Well, well,” you heard a familiar voice above you. “This isn’t quite what I had in mind, but you’re right about one thing, sweetheart-”
Eyes wide, heartrate picking up once more, you couldn’t help the slow tilt of your head as you looked up at the figure who had appeared before you, as if out of a dream.
Corbeau smiled darkly.
“I’m certainly not disappointed.”