Jessie placed the piece of paper upon the coffee table before her, as James and Meowth sat back into the sofa, no longer needing to glance over their female friend’s shoulder to read the printed text.
“Everything okay, guys?” Ash asked gently.
Jessie let a sigh escape, before answering, “Yeah. It’s no problem. We’ll do anything to help. It’s just…” she trailed off.
“It’s going to be weird testifying against old friends?” Ash surmised, nodding his head.
“No,” she answered with a snort. “We were never very ‘popular’ with the other members. They’re merely our old colleagues. But … it will still be weird.”
“I can understand,” Brock sympathised. “God, I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow.”
“Me neither,” Gary half-heartedly agreed.
“It never seems to end, does it?” James’ tone was bereft of all optimism.
Ash shook his head defiantly. “No. It will,” he replied pseudo-confidently. “We’ve just got a couple of more weeks. Then we’ll all get everything back to normal.” He found it difficult to believe in his own sentiments, but it was nice to think in such a way. The others seemed reassured by his words.
“Well, then how about we get a lot of room service and maybe order some movies?” Izzie offered. She turned to Brock, giving him a sympathetic glance, and placed a comforting hand upon his knee. He had been becoming more anxious as the hour of his testimony drew nearer. In fact, each of them was feeling the same way. She was lucky to be spared such pain. “We can all just relax.”
“Yeah, great idea,” Misty smiled.
Izzie glanced around at each person. They were all in agreement. Well, all except … Gary. It seemed he hadn’t heard her suggestion. He just sat there, staring into the distance. No, his eyes were painfully focused upon something, a melancholy aspect clouding him. She followed the line of his vision, abruptly stopping when she reached Misty. Why was he staring at … Oh, no. She had joked about Gary being attracted to Misty before, but…
As Ash nuzzled his face into his girlfriend’s neck, quickly giving her a peck upon her jaw, Izzie brought her concentration back to the brown-haired teenager. He averted his attention from the couple, glaring at the floor with a dark expression. Oh, god, she thought. Don’t tell me…
“I’m going to take a little walk,” Gary spoke abruptly, breaking Izzie out of her thoughts. “I need a little fresh air. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“You don’t want to get some food with us?” Misty asked, offering him a friendly grin.
He instantly reddened, and returned her smile. “Thanks … but I’m okay. Night.”
“Good night,” the group called.
Izzie felt a slight smile tug on her lips. Maybe Gary had a little more humanity than she gave him credit for. Unfortunately, the wrong person had brought it out of him. Poor kid.
At the other end of the room, James shuffled closer to Jessie, regarding her depressed facade. “Jess?”
“Yeah, James.” Her tone was still low and contemplative.
“Are you going to be okay? I mean, testifying against Cassidy. You guys used to be really … close.” He tried to push down the slight feeling of jealousy growing within him.
“That was a very long time ago.” She hesitated for a brief moment, before rewarding her friend’s concern with an appreciative look. “Don’t worry about me. I can get through anything.”
Regardless of the fact that he found her statement hard to believe, he let her away with it. She wasn’t the type to seek support when something affected her (she always flat-out refused it when offered), and the last thing he wanted was to have some form of conflict with her.
Gary didn’t know why this sudden impulse had taken over him, but he wasn’t about to deny his desire. He just needed something to relax him for a little while, to indulge his pleasure.
He felt so down. He couldn’t even think about the trials. Every waking moment she was the only thing on his mind. He had been trying to push his feelings away, attempting to improve their friendship instead, but his obsession continued. The more time he spent in her presence, the stronger his emotions became.
He had just happened upon this girl in a club he’d wondered into. She was just like every other woman he’d been with: pretty, not overly intelligent and easy. However, there was something that attracted his attention to her over the many other girls he’d seen.
It was her hair: the exact shade and tone as Misty’s. There were no other traits that linked the two women, but this was enough. He had wanted her from the second he saw her. If he couldn’t have the real Misty, someone who reminded him of that angel would have to do.
He pushed the girl (she had told him her name, but it didn’t seem important enough to retain) against the outer side of his hotel door, continuing the forced kiss. Rolling his fingers down over her body, he felt his concentration give way to lust.
His mind forgot she was just some anonymous character. No, this was Misty in his arms. His lips were playing with her’s. It was her body he was about to ravish. She was no longer Ash’s; she was his to do with as he desired.
He felt his actions hasten at his imaginings. “Mist,” he unconsciously whispered. He felt his heart tingle uttering the simple word, that pet name only Ash seemed permitted to use.
Miss Stranger pulled away from him for a moment. “Mist? My name’s Zara.”
“Oh,” he muttered, his previous heavenly illusion shattered. Zara (that’s right. That was her name) wore a slight scowl on her features. He’d never made that mistake before, confusing one girl’s name for another. In fact, he’d never made any kind of mistake with a woman before. This fixation upon the redhead water trainer was playing havoc with his concentration. But, he quickly centred himself, preparing a cover. “Your eyes. That shade of blue reminds me so much of the mist.”
She quickly accepted his reasoning, and started the intense kiss once more, running her hands over Gary’s back.
He felt that wondrous dreamscape reinstate itself once more, as he fumbled for his suite’s key. He inserted it into the lock, but just as he turned it, he heard an awkward cough from behind him.
There she was, mere metres down the corridor from them, a bucket of ice in her hands.
“Misty,” Gary gasped.
“Misty?” Zara questioned, the hamster wheel slowly turning.
Gary quickly finished unlocking the door, quickly pushing the girl into his room, her confusion evident.
Misty let out a short chuckle. “I was just getting some ice. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
Gary studied her features, disappointed in what he saw. There was no concern there, just amusement. “I…I’m sorry,” he found himself blurting out.
Misty’s eyebrows creased, unable to understand. “Why are you sorry?”
He swallowed heavily, once again chastising himself for acting in such an immature manner around the one he loved. “I don’t know.”
Misty simply took his actions as awkwardness. She’d practically caught him with his trousers down. Deciding to allow herself one more opportunity to embarrass him, she made her way back to her own room, winking as she passed him. “Enjoy your night.”
He watched her every step, her every movement as she entered the room opposite. Once he was sure the door was firmly closed, he fell back upon the wall, sighing deeply. He ran his hands over his face and into his hair.
This wasn’t fair. He hated this! Why the hell did this have to happen? Why did he have to fall for her? Why couldn’t he have met Misty before Ash had? But even if he had, what were the chances she would have fallen for him anyway?
He slammed the wall with his fists, before pushing himself from his leaning position. That girl - Sakura, Zara, whatever her name was - would be waiting for him in his room. She may not be the person he truly wanted, but he wasn’t going to allow himself to be alone tonight. Maybe if he had some kind of release, he could cope with being around Misty over the next few days.
She didn’t want to wake him.
He looked so peacefully innocent laying there, the quilt pooled at his feet, mouth wide open. It had taken him barely two seconds to sprawl over the expanse of the double bed after she had left. Now his head rested between the pillows, with his legs pointing to opposite corners of the mattress.
There were dark bags under his eyes. He tried for hours the night before to get to sleep, worried about the events of the next few weeks. Now content within the dream plane, he had been able to separate himself from those feelings. But it was already approaching eight o’clock. She had no other option. He had to get ready.
She crawled onto the bed, kneeling over him, her ankle-length skirt restricting her somewhat. Brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead, she lowered herself, whispering into his ear. “Ash. Ash, baby.” He merely moaned at her words. “Come on. It’s getting late. You need to wake up.”
She jumped back in shock as his eyes suddenly opened. He bolted, running towards the bathroom, misbalancing Misty. Tumbling over the edge of the mattress and onto the carpeted floor, she groaned. She knew this day wasn’t going to go well. This start certainly proved her premonition. Picking herself up, she stood, making her way over to the bathroom. Her stomach turned when she heard him retching, but it didn’t cause her to halt her progress. She entered the small room and came up behind him, rubbing his back gently as he bent over the toilet bowl. He hadn’t been sick, but his coughing was rough, his breathing pattern uneven.
“Just relax and try to breath deeply,” she advised, setting her chin onto his shoulder. He followed her words, attempting to stop himself from hyperventilating.
After a few moments, his choking subsided. Leaning back into Misty, he said, voice coarse, “Maybe I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
She laughed lightly. It wouldn’t be Ash not to try to hide his weaker side. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to pretend with me. My belly’s been a little jippy with nerves this morning too.”
He sighed. His words had been an automatic reaction. He hated anyone seeing him frail. Except for Misty. “God, I really thought I was gonna throw up. What’s wrong with me? I don’t even have to testify today. If I’m like this now, what’ll happen in a couple of days.”
He turned his head a little so as he could look at her. She was already dressed, her hair fixed up, a few traces of make-up on. She wore a concerned expression, and he knew that the emotion was centred upon him. But she was still smiling. “You’re so much stronger than me. You’ve been able to get through all this so much easier, whereas I can’t keep a reign on my feelings. One minute I’m happy, just being with you…” He leaned back slightly, touching her cheek with his. “…And our friends. Then the next it’s like I’m gonna have a breakdown or something.”
Misty moved her head away from his so he could see her face. She nodded slowly. “I feel the exact same way.”
“But you don’t show it as much.”
“Probably because I’m so focused upon you. Compared to how you’re feeling, what I’m going through isn’t as important.”
“Misty-“ he began, but she interrupted his protest.
“It’s true but. The person you love always takes priority over yourself. I’d rather help you than you help me.”
Why’d she always have to be so stubborn? And right? He felt the same way. He wanted to forget about how he was feeling and support her entirely. But they both needed aid, so neither way would do. “Wouldn’t it be better if we supported each other equally? I feel like I haven’t done half for you as what you’ve done for me.”
“I know, but I don’t want to put more on your plate.”
“Hey, you been the one shouting at me for not letting my emotions out. I could give you the very same lecture, you know,” he scolded.
Misty looked downwards, abashed. “I know and I’m sorry. It’s just that I worry so much about you.”
“And I worry about you, too.”
They both exhaled deeply.
“Seems like there’s been a little bit of a reversal,” Misty began. “At the beginning of the occupation, I was the more fragile one and you were holding back your emotions. Now it’s the other way around, though the reasons behind it all are very different.”
“Yeah. I was holding back because I didn’t want anyone to know how badly I was being affected by everything. But your doing it for a much more selfless reason; to help me.”
“I just wanted to be strong for you. If I didn’t hold back a bit, I’d probably be blubbering away half the time.” She attempted to laugh a little, but it came out with more than a little melancholy attached.
Ash turned himself around so that his body was facing his girlfriend’s. He cupped her cheek with one hand, smiling as she reacted to his touch by closing her eyes and relaxing into his caress. “How do you feel today?”
She swallowed deeply, her vision still obscured. “Scared. I really don’t want to go down there and face those…those bastards.”
“Me neither.”
“And Nakamora.” He felt her body tremble gently. “God, I don’t want to have to tell everyone what he did to us. It’s hard enough just thinking about it.”
He didn’t speak his reply, voicing it by placing his forehead upon hers instead.
“You think if we didn’t show up they’d forget we were here?” she joked, trying to ease the tension.
“Somehow I don’t think that’d work.”
She shook her head in agreement. “There’s no way out of this. We’re just going to have to push on,” she said, her confident nature seeping back into her tone. “It’ll be over soon, and we can just act like a normal couple. Concentrate fully upon the two of us. Get a little…closer.”
As he felt her cheeks warm against his palm, he felt himself redden, a little from excitement, but mostly due to shyness. “I can’t wait,” he found himself unconsciously uttering.
5th June, 2021. 08:54.
Ash entered the courtroom, friends by his side, Misty’s hand gripped within his own. His stomach continued to plague him, never easing up on its somersaulting. He hadn’t even felt this anxious facing the Elite Four.
Talking his vision from his feet (he had to present a strong persona. He had to!), he took in the tribunal hall. He’d never seen one of this scale before. No wonder it was the central high court for the entire region, and one of the most impressive in the country. Semicircular in structure, the bar was positioned upon the sole flat wall, elevated seating surrounding it. It reminded Ash of a Pokemon stadium, cut across the centre.
The sheer size wasn’t the only aspect that spouted the room’s grandness. The walls were clad in dark oak, each element of furniture constructed in the same material. Deep red carpets lined the floor, and both the national and regional flags hung behind the judges’ stand. The sheer splendour of the hall rendered Ash speechless.
Beginning his descent, moving away from the wooden double-doors, he tore his eyes from the décor, beholding the faces of those gathered. The court was full to capacity. Barely a seat remained untaken. At the bar, the three high judges sat, enrobed in their judicial regalia, and conversed amongst themselves. On a bench before them each of the solicitors were seated, Mr. Seto retaining pride of place as the chief prosecutor.
As Ash continued down the steps, a series of bright flashes broke his focused observation. Keeping his eyes forward, he attempted to forget about the presence of the media. They seemed to occupy the entire upper section of the seated area. He felt himself swallow a lump that had settled within his throat. He and the others had been lucky over the past while. Whether they were away from prying eyes in a Viridian hotel or back in Pallet, where no one sought to bother them due to Ash’s relationship with almost everyone within the small town, they had escaped questions from news agencies. But now they had no such pleasure.
Ash had always quested for fame, dreamed of the day every TV channel would be begging for a short interview. Now, it all just seemed unpalatable. But then it wasn’t stories about his career, travels or techniques they desired him to tell. It would be years before that became their primary focus, and even then, he knew the more than occasional comment about the occupation would rise.
Pushing his depression over those facts behind him, he once more cast his focus upon those within the hallowed walls. As he entered the lower levels of the sloped section, he studied the faces of the seated individuals to either side of him. He recognised some as resistance members, others as politicians.
Taking the last step and making a right turn, Ash headed in the direction of a group of empty seats in the front row. He stole a quick glance behind him. The Prime Minister had a position in the foremost row as well, flanked by many of his aides, but in the section to the left of the staircase Ash had walked down. Watanabe felt the teenager’s glare, returning a similar look, though one cleverly hidden under a honeyed grin. Ash felt the urge to chuckle, the glee from his devious plot returning to him full fold. The middle-aged politician had no other option but to treat Ash with respect, a gesture that the Pokemon Master had no need to reciprocate.
Slipping confidently into his appointed seat, he altered his glance, bringing it softly upon Misty. His self-assurance crashed instantly. Her face had fallen, her hand trembling so gently he barely felt it through their contact. Her eyes were focused upon the glass-walled section of seating to their right, somewhere Ash’s interest hadn’t yet wandered.
The accused. The criminals. They we barricaded behind the bullet-proof Perspex, afforded protection denied to their victims.
He followed her line of sight, coming face-to-face with the bastard who had tortured them. Nakamora displayed no emotion upon his hardened face, his suit neat, short hair meticulously arranged.
You’re going to burn in hell for this, you fucker. I’ll make sure of that. Ash was slightly shocked at the words flittering into his mind, but he wasn’t about to take a single syllable back.
Pushing back his own distain, he tenderly turned his girlfriend’s head with finger. “Don’t look at him,” he whispered into her ear. “Don’t even afford him the pleasure of knowing how much he has hurt you.”
She nodded slightly, forcing a slight grin upon her lips. They placed their foreheads together briefly, feeling a trickle of strength flow through their bodies, before turning to face forward, ready to listen to the presiding judge’s words.
7th June, 2021. 10:07.
Gary had just taken his place upon the stand. He glanced out at the courtroom, tracing an eye over those assembled. He passed over the gathered audience and finally to the group he was being to accept as his friends. Misty gave him a quick smile, while Ash displayed comforting expression. It felt strange to receive such encouraging looks, but not at all displeasing.
He didn’t really understand why he was seated here. He’d been present for each of the testimonies that had preceded him, and he really couldn’t see anything new to tell the court. Everything of importance had been said before over the past two days, or had been in his report. But he had no choice.
Mr. Seto walked towards him, every fragment of his being exuding professionalism. “Mr. Oak. Could you please inform the court of the structural organisation of the resistance? How were new members recruited and incorporated?”
Gary didn’t need to mull over the question. He’d already given the answer in the written account he’d submitted to Seto. He guessed that was the reason for those reports; so the solicitor could personally identify what enquiries would be best suited to a repeat at the hearing, and to discard those he couldn’t build upon. “There was as much organisation as possible, but in the circumstances, that wasn’t very much. Everything was pretty disjointed. It couldn’t have been any other way. Anyone who wanted to join was immediately accepted.”
The dark-haired man mused for a moment. “That could have been dangerous. A Team Rocket member would have found it easy to infiltrate your ranks.”
Gary half-smiled. Seto was attempting to garner more sympathy for the rebels. Not like it was needed. They weren’t the ones on trial, and everyone already supported their actions during those months. But Gary knew that wasn’t the purpose. It was to instead show how vulnerable they were willing to make themselves, how much they were willing to risk for their cause. “We had little other choice. We needed all the fighters we could get. To ensure some form of security, everyone was partnered with another member. That meant everyone had an eye centred upon them almost every second of the day.”
“Didn’t that build up a level of mistrust within the teams?”
“No. In actual fact, it did the opposite. Everyone understood the reasons for such a measure, and the partners would normally end up depending upon each other.”
“What about the relationship between each sect? They were generally spread several kilometres apart, and often much farther. How did they keep in communication with each other? Didn’t the isolation between sects present any trust issues?”
“Communications were generally done through the use of psychic Pokemon and people. If that wasn’t an option, we had to rely upon old-style radio communications, ones that were harder to hack. And we didn’t have access to much modern equipment.”
“Were there ever any leadership challenges?”
“None that I know of. I think everyone realised that some form of internal fight would just hurt the rebellion itself. No one was willing to do such a thing. And I think we all trusted the leaders. No one set themselves aside for such a role.” He focused a glance towards Ash. “They were chosen by the other members.”
Seto nodded, satisfied. “Okay. I would now like to move onto the Viridian City uprising of April 31st. Could you please explain your part in the revolt?”
7th June, 2021. 14:34.
“We spent hours the night before planning every detail,” Brock informed those assembled. “There weren’t enough rebels within Viridian and its outskirts to achieve our plans, so our first priority was to contact every resistance cell we could, tell them to get their people to the city as soon as possible. Every was told to rendezvous in front of the HQ.”
“How many members would you estimate arrived in time?” Seto quizzed.
He thought for a moment. “I’ve been told around three-hundred. I would agree with that number.”
“So, why was it at this point the resistance decided to hit back with such a force? If you had the power, why didn’t you go for this strategy beforehand?”
“We had previously considered it, but rejected the plan as we felt it wasn’t feasible. However, after so long of losing friends, including a number the night before, we were unwilling to let two more be executed.” He regarded Ash and Misty with that familiar brotherly gaze. “I guess you could say it was a mixture of anger and exasperation that caused us to decide upon such a dangerous tactic. But it worked, as we could only have dreamed.”
The solicitor nodded, glancing down upon the pages he held as he paced before Brock. “Could you tell the court how you and your friends, Master Ketchum and Misty Williams, were inducted into the resistance?”
“Through a young woman named Kiyoko Masaki,” he answered softly.” She was an old friend of Erika Verdan, the leader of one of the rebel groups.”
“Kiyoko Masaki was the daughter of one of Team Rocket chief officers. How could you be sure her offer of cover was genuine?”
Perspiration began to seep through the pours of his forehead. He had to talk about Kiyoko? He awkwardly glanced at Izzie. Her only response a confident grin that served to urge him on. “It was either to take a leap of faith and trust her, or end up running for our lives. But I think my friends will agree with me there was something about Kiyoko, about her kindness and warmth, that meant we couldn’t help but trust her.” Brock felt his vision fall downward. “We all owe her such a debt of gratitude, not just the rebels, but everyone throughout the region. She gave her life to save Kanto,” he finished solemnly.
“Now, I’d like to focus upon the massacre of Pari village.”
9th June, 2021. 12:12.
“You are positive that both Cassidy and Butch were in charge of the team that carried out the genocide?” Seto questioned
Jessie nodded. “Yes, I’m certain. I saw the orders with my own eyes.” She hesitated before adding, “And I could tell just by the way it was carried out.”
“You know the accused personally?”
“Butch? No. I’ve rarely had the pleasure,” she admitted, sarcasm dripping. “Cassidy…unfortunately I know her very well. We have a long, long history.”
“And how would you describe her?”
Jessie turned and stared right into the face of her old colleague, displaying an expression of pure hatred. The blonde coldly returned the stare. “Destructive. Uncaring. No ability for empathy.” She brought her attention back to the solicitor. “The massacre at Pari wasn’t her first experience of murder. There were many rumours of earlier atrocities. It was common knowledge among Team Rocket members that when Giovanni wanted something down ‘right’, she was his first choice. She always struck with a heavy hand. She was even assigned to take care of wayward members.”
“So you believe she could have carried out the massacre with the same cold-hearted efficiency?”
“I have no doubt,” Jessie stated with conviction.
Seto turned from his witness to address those gathered. “The massacre of the village was one of the worst atrocities of the occupation. Pathologists have carried out post-mortems upon all 347 victims, and the results prove to make their deaths even more disturbing. 149 died when their homes were set on fire, all escape routes blocked off. 37 from affixation due to strangulation, in several cases caused by hanging. 56 from gun shot wounds and 32 from knife injuries. A further 73 were tortured, some for a period of many hours, dying from a sever loss of blood.”
Jessie felt her hands shake as he read the macabre report. How could someone she had once considered to be more than friend be responsible for such…such an evil undertaking? But a further revelation only served to heighten her distress.
“In addition, 44 women and young girls had been raped before their deaths. This number is, however, inconclusive. Many of the corpses were so badly decomposed that doctors were unable to conduct a thorough examination.”
Seto brought his focus back upon the former Rocket. A look of concern flashed upon his features before his apathetic façade reintegrated itself. “You weren’t able to tell from looking at the bodies how they died?”
She slowly shook her head. “We stayed in the area for a very short time,” Jessie began in a hushed tone. “It was too difficult for us to see them like that. We just wanted to get out of there.”
“Do you believe that your former colleague had the terrifying ability to sanction and commit these supplementary crimes?”
“Yes,” came her simple reply.