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Chapter Text

Skimming techniques help get through mission files by just scanning the headlines and the sub-headers. Every single operative of the Interregional Security Directorate was taught this for their preliminary testing. It helped to gain a visual of the next bridge you were supposed to cross in an instant. Now, why is that relevant to the story you jumped into?

Because that technique was the reason one particular agent, AK08 as he was codenamed, lost the caffeine he had hard-earned for the day by standing before a rogue espresso machine in the HQ. He choked at his own agenda files.

Only one thought ran through the operative's head when he set the dossier off with that old, chugging grey lighter he always carried as a charm. The paper hissed away into ashes like a broken tank.

I've been trained for stealth and under-the-radar missions, but why am I on a "flirting legally" mission now?

"Next mission, eh?" came the ever-wry tone. The boy didn't have to wheel around to identify the voice of years of hardcore training.

"Good ol' Kalos calls again, Handler." He turned, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips, dropping the paper cup into the bin. Smiling was something he had long since forgotten, unless feigned. "Can I trust you this time too?" He plugged in his comms earpiece. Trusty, handy.

The woman behind her usual stoic mask bowed slightly, just enough. His wrist piece lit with a new message. The deadline set above his head: sixty days. "Trust nobody."

He would never. She taught him well, and what's more? She knew that.

But the boy, a mere boy, compelled to go black ops against the Kalosian government, never knew he had to break hearts for legal purposes. He could only hope it wouldn't go south the minute he breathed the sparking air of Lumiose.

— xoxo —

The city in itself was vibrant to lodge in, perhaps even label myself as a tourist on a break, but that was far from the life I lived. With each skyscraper I passed by, the misery grew. There was nothing to be enjoyed in this world for a person such as I. Not the towering heights or the wuthering climate of Kalos. Disguise, decrypt, derive. That was my life motto ever since Pallet was branded a ghost town.

"We've arrived," said the chippy driver, effectively pulling me out of the reverie I had fallen into. I stashed out the promised eight hundred and twenty-seven Pokédollars as promised and climbed out of the taxi. The cost of living in Lumiose was jacked up. Thankfully, all the monetary assets I owned weren't mine own: all rights reserved towards the Kantonian sub-rosa.

It wasn't peculiarly hard to find the building I was sent to call home for the next two months: the lofty institution called the Université Lumière de Kalos. For non-Kaloré speakers such as I, the name was shortened to The Lumiose Collegium. Thankfully. I would have been a sputtering Goldeen to spell out the name of my makeshift university had Handler not taught the basics of regional languages.

A sentinel stood in the guardhouse, clad in a posh silk shirt with the crest of Université Lumière de Kalos stitched onto the breast. I dropped my baggage to fish for my "identity card." Who could be better than the Directorate in forging fake student IDs?

"Satoshi Kazehara. Transfer student from The Coronet Academy," he read, voice monotonous, clipped. This was how they were taught to be: polished, formal under any setting regardless of a superior glaring down your neck or a stranger in your face. "Your ID number?"

I smirked. The Handler had seen this coming. Every step in this campus was designed to test you, shape you to face a world that was fifty years ahead. Straightening, I recalled the ten alphanumeric characters that had been etched into my brain.

"K19TH25R91."

It didn't elicit any unexpected response. He merely swiped my ID at the proximity reader and handed it back with a set of keys. "Two times left and the third right."

This university sure was tough on students from the minute they stepped in. I learned as much when the instructions to the dormitory were given so cluelessly. The keys in my hand had a tag: the room number, 305. How coincidental of the number to match my operative ID.

Finding the building was a cup of tea, but I couldn't help but feel the Kalosian government had gone out of their way to make something as simple as an undergraduate university so posh. Green cover lined the path, glowing in an ungodly yellow thanks to the street lamps set above them. A few students were breathing the fresh air while studying, while others enjoyed the ambience with their friends… or significant others.

The thought churned my stomach. I had long since forgotten what love felt like, and to enter into a relationship for the sake of going consensus felt alien.

My wristwatch gave a silent vibration as soon as the door of my dorm closed behind me. The Directorate were obviously tracking my location, and now that I was "safe," Handler had given a ring. However, that, too, was a test, and I couldn't afford to get rusty.

After a five-minute check of the room for any hidden devices or cams, I flopped onto the bed. The university sure was giving a hell lot of facilities for a free student like I. An entire dormitory for all the funding the ISD did, lol.

The faint hum of the air conditioning didn't soothe me. The SpectraLink — too sleek for my taste — buzzed awake. They called it the leash. I called it a reminder that I was never alone. Not ever.

"Agent AK," came her voice, crisp and undeniably her. "Took you quite long to settle in. Does the dorm pass your sweep?"

I snorted. "You know a busted wall socket and a hard mattress are the least things keeping my back from contracting a sprain, right, Handler?"

A grim chuckle. The most you could get out of her. "The protocol starts tomorrow. Smile and blend. Remember that the collateral's timetable is your syllabus."

I exhaled, long and slow. "Copy that."

A pause. The Handler's voice softened, just so much. "Maintain cover, secure the cache. And AK08..."

I blinked, waiting.

"Don't get attached."

And then — click. Dead air.

A chuckle almost broke out. Pikachu broke his way out of my bag, tilting his head, brown eyes narrowed. He slid onto my palm for a scratch. "Pika?"

I turned my wrist, watching the faint glow of the leash fade out wistfully. An uneasy thought settled in. She's not the one acting boyfriend to a random stranger in a city that's glowing neons and sharp as a dagger.

"Pika!"

The electric Pokémon was glaring at me, browns a burning hue. "Yeah, you're right," I chuckled, smoothing his fringe. "I never get attached to anybody but you guys."

He gave a satisfied spark, then curled up against my side. Easy to be born a human than a Pokémon forced to battle and get scars. But AK08's life was a bureaucratic morass. Tonight, I was a nameless spy. More like someone who refused to be called the name he was given at birth. Tomorrow, I'll be Satoshi Kazehara. A student at Université Lumière de Kalos, pursuing fashion designing, being someone else in somebody else's world. The catch? Don't break the rule.

Don't get attached even if you're at gunpoint. The Directorate's motto, and that I shall stand by, even if the city outside was laughing at the sheer idiocy and the stakes being a top-class espy bought with.

Chapter Text

Lumiose mornings cut clean. Pikachu was given his fair share of breakfast before he climbed into my bag, hidden for the day, hidden till danger. The leash hums once, a reminder that the field operation for day one of Hatch has begun. I adjust it around my wrist, tug the sleeve of my borrowed hoodie down to conceal it, then leave the dormitory.

A boy with shoulder-length black hair and a cool pair of shades greeted me when I entered the class. "You're the new transfer student from Coronet, aren't you?" His smile was easy. Little did he know that he was helping me build cover. "Calem Xavier. Nice to meet you."

I shook his hand once, shallow. "Satoshi Kazehara. Pleasure's mine."

The first lecture was something about colour theory. I couldn't care much the minute the collateral entered the scene. Serena Yvonne, object 'Y', walked in with a skip in her step. Extrovert bias, probably. Her honey-blonde hair caught the sunlight like she was the princess of something extraterrestrial. Her interactions were easy with friends.

As the hours passed by, I continued observing. She was the first to put her hand up in the air. Social voice: mediocre. Friends: two girls, Shauna and Miette; three guys: Trevor, Tierno and Calem. She seemed to avoid cheese and liked sitting with her friends for lunch instead of dining alone.

Calem and the other boys motioned me over to join them when recess hit. "Chill, dude. You look like we're learning some case study of a hostage situation," the raven-haired boy remarked, slinging an arm around my neck. I wanted to shake him off, but...

You're Satoshi Kazehara. Not AK08. Not a tool of the Directorate.

"Hang out with us for lunch?"

Calem was the pawn here. I could use him to get to her as a mutual friend.

"Not today, thanks."

"You're the lone wolf, huh?"

I smiled. That fake Satoshi charm. "Trying to get used to this campus."

The boy looked unsure but bought the excuse quickly. I blended back into the crowd to avoid getting stares. All I had was a cheese sandwich, but something was better than that damaged espresso machine's brews.

Serena was laughing now. Her mannerisms screamed elite family. Maybe a doctor or a government official, seeing as they were trafficking Pokémon eggs under the legal license of medical research. But according to the intelligence reports, Yvonne's wife, one Missus Grace, was a renowned Rhyhorn racer. If I had to connect the dots, Grace and her significant other were smuggling Rhyhorn eggs as part of an unlicensed Rhyhorn trading business.

The penultimate hour led to battle match-ups. Unfortunately for me, my rival was Serena's apparent close friend, Shauna Bellefeuille. The brunette was a descendant of Mason Bellefeuille, the owner of Maison Fontaine, a prestigious perfume company that supplies rich, natural aroma to all the boutiques in and out of Kalos. He ruled the perfume industry for a decade before going back to his estate in Vaniville. Reports had it that he was calling off the towel soon by handing the family legacy to their only heir, Shauna. The girl, though, didn't seem to carry the weight as much as she looked polished and poised.

Our Pokéballs met as a precursor to the battle. "May the best trainer win," she said, voice light, hiding the hint of fiery challenge beneath a smile. I smirked.

"May the best trainer win."

Pikachu shuffled in my bag for the battle. It wasn't his first time wanting one since that time facing Team Aqua in Verdanturf. I couldn't blame him. My rat was starved for battles.

"Let's do it, Pikachu."

The call of the whistle had my starter racing forward towards Shauna's Ivysaur. "Quick attack!" I commanded, watching the part-grass, part-poison Pokémon's red eyes widen. I had Pikachu use its weakest attack, yet Ivysaur was too low on its defense.

"Ivysaur, petal dance!" the girl shouted, hands intertwined as if in prayer. But oh no. It wasn't going to last. Pikachu threw me an off-handed look when pink petals came flooding towards us.

"Use your tail as a spring!"

Not to exaggerate or anything, but I could have sworn Calem and his friends gasped when Pikachu sprang into the air, tail sparking. This was the sign.

I slashed the air before me. I had to look cool before Serena, even if the Directorate didn't ask for overperformance. Disguise, blend in. "Use thunderbolt!"

But hey, how was I supposed to make a girl fall for me if I didn't look cool enough?

Pikachu's electricity struck down the grass type, and in quick succession, the electric mouse landed on one knee, smoke curling from where the bolt struck. I shouldn't make the next move. For the sake of cover.

The referee's signal had cheers from Calem and Tierno. Ivysaur had slumped, a few petals still stuck on his back. The girl was beside it at once, whispering words before the red flash of light enveloped the fainted Pokémon. She didn't look defeated. Rather, curious. Like she wanted to know the why of the battle before accepting the results.

Pikachu clambered back into my bag when the girl approached, Pokéball gripped tightly in her hand. I met it with Pikachu's Pokéball before the battle officially ended. "The victory goes to Student 91!"

I almost turned on my heel. "You didn't battle like a beginner." Okay, no, this wasn't how I was supposed to come off as. Looking over my shoulder, I shot her a smile.

"Guess I got lucky."

"You didn't analyze commands." Her eyes narrowed, hands finding her robes. At once, all her energetic, cheery air drained out of her. "You analyzed the movements. Satoshi, if you're going to pretend that you're a mystery transfer student like it happens in the books, then you're nailing your part."

What the—

"But~" She leaned back, her demeanor suddenly shifting to something very teenage-girlish. "If you so much as eye my bestie with another intention where there's none for you, I'll have you know that the Maison Fontaine doesn't just produce perfumes."

What else does it produce? Poisons?

"Who the freak is your bestie?" I asked instead. Nope, not happening. I'm not the one who's supposed to "fall" for Serena first. That wasn't how I plotted the game.

"Don't act like she isn't pretty, Mister," the girl snorted, wheeling around. She shot me one last teasing look before strutting away. The leash pulsed against my skin. A warning.

Oh, I didn't like how this entire romance game was ruining my edge.

"I'm supposed to be the hitman, not the man who hits on girls!"

The electric Pokémon snorted lazily, fur sparking. "Pika~"

We were back in my dorm, trying to describe the notes I had taken on the collateral before memory turned into a traitor. Now all healed, Pikachu was back to lazing around and munching on some galettes that Calem had given for defeating Shauna. Poor girl. Was betrayed by her own best friend.

"She's sharp," I said into the leash that night. The Handler was waiting for a report. "It'll be hard to keep my cover if she's that observant."

"How are you passing it?"

"Either by 'falling' for Serena first." Not my primary choice. "Or 'falling' harder for her." The better alibi for someone like me. The silence the Handler gave was deafening. "Probably gonna do the first. Call it love at first sight."

"Don't forget the objective, Agent AK08," she cut me short. "You're an experienced hand, and I bet you're aware of the consequences should you be outed."

I could not argue further. "Copy that."

The leash pulsed back to normal, and I flopped onto my back beside Pikachu. Shauna wasn't exactly wrong. I analyzed movements, but the fact that she caught on, despite not being strong enough to hold her suit, spoke volumes of Serena's company. For now, I only had intel on two of Serena's five friends: Shauna and Calem. Somebody who could poison me and somebody who could lead me straight to the collateral.

The problem? Easy wasn't my first course to take. Lol.

Chapter Text

I didn't approach Calem or Shauna the following day. Not because the Directorate wanted a safe approach. Rather because I wanted to lie low, especially after noticing Shauna's keen eye. I briefly wondered if they were just best friends, or if the Directorate was going to mess up by sending a guy when Shauna probably had a thing for my collateral and the said collateral reciprocated… the feelings. That would be a happy mistake on the part of the ISD, something I hoped I didn't have to embarrass myself for.

Lumiose evenings were bustling, heavy with civilians and tourists alike. Mostly because most of the workers belonged to the IT industry, only taking to recons when their shifts ended. I'd taken to walks. Not to clear my mind. For fresh air. A recon for myself. Low profile, just to observe the state of things in this metropolitan.

There was a bakery where I paused for a drink. Pikachu was back in the dormitory, too lazy to ride my shoulder like he always did. Maybe he would like something sweet after that terrifying performance yesterday. But as usual, the wind stirred with trouble when a yelp resonated from the dark alleyway beside the patisserie.

Three silhouettes cornered a girl. A blob of gold, and my breath hitched. No. What the hell was the universe against me for? I didn't have my pokéballs on me, and using sheer brute force would arise a whole ton of questions. How was I supposed to afford risking—

Serena let out a muffled yelp when one of the guys grabbed her by the arm. "She doesn't have her pokéball with her, eh? This bird is from that fancy-pants school."

"Let me go!" she gnarled. "Or you'll regret every second of this."

"Oh, look who we agitated?" laughed another. Okay, now they were getting on my nerves for real. "Imagine how she'd taste li—"

"What's the problem here?"

The goons swirled. Even the leash could feel the fear in the enemy's eyes. "I heard the cathedral's bells ringing." My voice was low. I couldn't draw attention. I wasn't a revolutionary. Just a puppet on a lonely string. Lie low, blend in. "Wouldn't commit any sin before it, will you?"

One didn't care. Just didn't. Straight up launched forward, a fist curled more like a shield than a sword. But that was where his cowardice lay. It wasn't aimed towards me. I could have easily sidestepped. It was directed towards the girl held back by another goon. There was no time to react, or for another word. Followed my instincts, ended up spewing blood between us as his fist collided into the hull of my spine. It didn't hurt half of what Giovanni once did by throwing me across the harbour. But still...

"How foolish," I mused, mostly to myself, pulling back from the girl. She was blanched out, but her posture screamed defiance even though she was pinned within my arms. I couldn't have possibly rusted at that moment. "The one who takes to the sword dies by the sword."

The coward with the thrown punch decided speed was better than pride. Or that I would stumble to my knees any second. He bolted. I pivoted, holding Serena close to my chest, and let the momentum do its talking. The goon collided into the trash cans in use.

"Ew, that's a load of washing for your mother." The other two turned, catching Serena's glare that might as well cut steel. "You worth-for-nothing gits."

The minute I released her, one of them was to his knees, doubled over by her loud slap. That was, perhaps, the first time I had seen any woman possess supernatural strength. Not even Handler could… handle that. They didn't need another invitation. They sprinted.

I exhaled. I wasn't losing my edge, but what transpired might as well...

"You're always this dramatic?" The girl whirled on the spot, her heel clicking against the mushy cobblestones. She froze short of me, a hand reaching up. Unfortunately for her, the milk she had consumed fell short on increasing her elevation. "You're bleeding. You could have just stopped the punch instead of taking it."

"I could have." A rare chuckle escaped me. Not exactly Satoshi's. More like... "But it didn't exactly light my brain, you see." Not the truth, but she could deal with it.

"You're the one who defeated Shauna in the Academy Battles." She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a light pink, spotted hanky. Too cute to see blood.

"Yeah, but Pikachu decided he liked his sleep better."

Her hanky was smooth. Soft against my forehead. Why the hell did I decide banging my head against the shutters of who knows what store was better than blocking the punch?

"You don't have to, you know..."

She completely disregarded my sentence. Maybe it was the lighting, or how close she was, but I could feel something other than the leash flutter against my pulse. Nope, this couldn't be it. It was just the leash, the Directorate, the Handler sending me instructions, tracking how good I was at charming random girls I didn't know the name of.

"Satoshi, was it?" The fake name rolled off her tongue like silk. She dabbed the soaked kerchief against my forehead once more before discarding it into her backpack. It was useless, I knew. My temple stung softly. Not the exaggerated kind I was used to, but either way, enough for my pulse to race. "I realised I never told you this."

Holy moly. A list of a hundred and ten things of what might be next, but what actually came next wasn't anticipated. It wasn't just the smile that got me, even if it had a part in it, that flushed, grateful look in her eye.

"Thank you for saving me, Kazehara-kun."

Shauna was right, all right? This girl was a deadly combination of danger and perfume. What's worse? I didn't know which one lingered the longest.

Danger or that lavender-scented perfume… or my collateral herself. Subject Y. One Miss Serena Yvonne, the girl who was smiling now, hands tied behind her back. "Say, will you come with me somewhere?"

I blinked. This was off the agenda, unplanned. And unplanned equalled danger. But then...

"Sure."

She wheeled around and inclined her head towards the bakery I was headed to. "That's the Café du Cœur, pretty renowned for their variety of pastries and drinks." I fell into a step beside her, watching the low streetlights flicker against her curly, short hair. "I always hang out with my friends here on weekends, but..."

Something was wrong. It was by the dip in her lips that I could tell. The sudden cease in acceleration and how the streetlights illuminated her a little less.

"But Miette's gone clubbing. With her boyfriend. Shauna said she felt under the weather, so I dropped my pokémon with her till I could get back and... this happened."

We reached the double doors of the cafeteria. Serena froze before she could reach for the handle. "I didn't... I wouldn't have known what would have happened if it weren't for you."

My chest constricted. I was used to ceasing armoury, armadillos, and decoding the weirdest of patterns, but comforting someone... How the hell do you do that?

Hoping I wasn't building pillars of sand, I reached for her shoulder. It was warm to the touch when she didn't flinch. "You're okay now."

"Most people just leave or watch from the curb." She bit her lip, eyes averting to our shoes.

"I'm not... most people."

I wasn't. Not in the sense she was referring to, not in the sense she wasn't referring to.

Her gaze lifted to the café's warm glow, blues melting like ice on a summer day. My arm dropped into her palms. "Let me treat you, Kazehara-kun."

Somewhere in the Directorate's dusty logs, a line flashed to the vanguard of my mind. Don't get attached to your collateral. Never get attached.

But here I was — blinking, heat warming my cheeks and the hand she held.

"Uh..." Awesome. The masters of espionage would be so proud. "You don't have to—! I just — I just walked you here because it's late and—"

"I want to!"

I wanted to take it up, just to get an insider into her family background, but some kind of mental alarm in the back of my mind went off. Even if I did accept, the plane was warm. Too warm to hold its passengers safely.

Without realising, my free hand reached for an itch at the back of my neck. Easy, AK08. You've wrestled with a Gyrados, talked diplomacy to international sergeants, and here you are, thrown off your orbit at some rom-com mission.

"If you insist." I cleared my throat, withdrawing from her grip. The warmth immediately fled, and I — almost absurdly — wanted to let my fingers slip into hers again. "I'll go for a takeout instead, and walk you to your home."

She smiled in acceptance and pushed open the door. As soon as the scent of baked goods flooded my senses, my eyes twitched. I was getting a free treat from my collateral now. Wow. Great going, buddy.

"There's only a hitch," she remarked before the glass cases. Don't tell me she forgot her purse back with her friend—

"What is it?"

She stuck her tongue out. "I can't go home."

Day three, scratched off the Handler's to-do. Act calm, buddy. Ask the obvious. Blend in. "Where will you spend the night?" I faked concern into the expression, watching her eyes drift by the multiple trays of pastries arranged beyond the glass case.

"Probably the library," she whispered. "Shauna wouldn't let me in, and Miette probably won't be back tonight. I have no choice, but hey, you can walk me back to the Collegium, right?"

No. I shouldn't tell her this.

"Why don't you take my room then?"

Why did you tell that?!

Serena blinked, then straightened. Her eyes felt shallow when she called for the attendant and placed an order, a takeout. All the energy seemed to have suddenly drained out of her posture. Shoot, you did it. You officially sent the operation packing to the ISD!

Just when I was about to admit defeat to the leash, the girl turned, piercing blue trying to look past the concern I didn't house. "You don't have to."

Wait, this could be my opportunity. I could turn this around. Call it foolish. Call dibs that this night together (or apart) may just, just make her develop feelings for Satoshi Kazehara. Yeah, Pikachu could charm her too. He's quite a charmer, after all.

"I want to," I whispered back, repeating her from before. "I couldn't let a classmate sleep the night out where the books take shapes. That will look bad on my record."

"What about you?" she asked, her head tilted. "Would you just give your bed away to a stranger?"

I hesitated. Just an act. To make it look real. Then... "I've slept on worse. A deck, park benches, academy stairs. Getting a dorm room couch seems like luxury to me."

A chuckle escaped her lips, and she hurried to cover her laughter with the back of her hand. Like Elites do. "You sound too composed for someone who got punched less than half an hour ago."

I scratched my cheek, this time feigned clearly. The warmth of the café was bringing my edge back, combined with the soft warning of the leash underneath my sleeve.

We left the café with two boxes of tarte aux fraises despite my best protests that I didn't do strawberries, let alone tarts made on them. Sometime before the dormitory arrived, Serena nearly gave me a heart attack. "You didn't have to call me pretty, you know?"

My heart jumped. "I– did I?!" Did any of my internal monologues cease to exist as intra-communication only? Did I lose my edge completely for strawberry tarts and lavender perfumes?!

"Relax!" she chuckled, once more behind her hand. "I was just joking. You didn't." I would have almost missed her last line if I hadn't been trained by the Handler's bureaucratic methods. "I wouldn't have minded if you did either."

Chapter Text

Daylight cut straight to a note on the study. The handwriting was neat, cursive, and enough for me to guess that she was left-brained, leaning more into emotions.

Pikachu tilted his head at me, eyes narrowed teasingly. I shut him down by trashing the note. "You know it's for the mission, don't you?"

"Pika, pika!"

That dangerous lavender scent still lingered in my dormitory. It was in need of an exorcism lest my senses adapt to it. Or Pikachu's. He sure enjoyed cuddling her yesterday. My starter betrayed me by taking the bed with her instead of the couch.

"Keep your fur to yourself the next time we encounter her," I chided, grabbing the uniform from my trunk. I had an approximate time of twenty minutes to reach the classroom should I take route 'B' through the auditorium. "No more lovey-dovey with our collateral."

Pikachu harrumphed, crossing his paws and looking at the curtains closed shut. I sighed. I wasn't the only one who ached for some familiar warmth, but Pikachu and the others were all I had. "Hurry up, buddy, we have to sign up for that mega evolution class the Handler said Serena enrolled in."

Unfortunate that I stumbled into Shauna after giving my name to Professor Sycamore, the mega evolution specialist. "So, someone's enrolling in a class my bestie registered for, eh?"

I stopped short of closing the lockers forcefully. This was a sharp one. "Who?"

"Serena, duh," she snorted. "You knew she enrolled in this one, didn't you?"

Act calm. Blend in. "Did she?" Her brows rose. "That's news, but hey, Shauna-san, don't mind me asking this but..." I lowered my voice, leaning too close to her locker. "Have you got a thing for Serena-chan?"

The girl blushed. "N-no!" Great job, bud. "What made you think that?!"

I shrugged, backing away a little. "It's not wrong. Besides, someone was too protective of their best friend. It's only natural, y'know?"

The girl huffed and, without another word, walked away. Was I really right or she simply decided I wasn't worth her time?

I found her in the classroom, chatting animatedly with Calem. When she caught me walking in, her lips quirked into a soft smile, something that felt like the strawberry tart from last night. Pikachu sure did like it a lot, as expected.

Aside from that exchange, there wasn't much to how she acted any different from yesterday. Like I was a stranger. I didn't know why that irked me as much as it did. Maybe because the operation wasn't moving any forward.

We collided in the mega evolution class as per Handler's agenda. But I wasn't supposed to know that. At least, Satoshi wasn't supposed to know that.

"Oh! Kazehara-kun!" she exclaimed in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Are we weary of my presence?" I joked, rubbing the back of my neck. That was supposed to be Satoshi's tick for nerves, a green light she was supposed to catch.

"No!" Serena shot down quickly, flailing her hands in front of her in dismissal. My senses alerted to the bead of sweat dripping down her powdered cheek. Good. "Are you going to evolve Pikachu?"

Ah. Hell if Pikachu obliges.

"Negative, Miss. He doesn't go a hundred miles in the proximity of a thunder stone."

Thankfully, Pikachu was sound asleep in my bag. That Slakoth of an electric type...

Serena tilted her head. A sparkle caught my eye—her pokéball dangling from the belt of her skirt. It had an array of pearls along the top. Elite.

"I'm yet to see any of your pokémons," I commented, motioning at the pokéball. The girl followed my eye then laughed.

"Oh, you will see. This one's my starter. She is recently found to be capable of mega evolving." The girl patted the side of her skirt, then in a spontaneous moment, curved forward, all smirky. "What about you, Kazehara-kun?"

"Well, he isn't my starter, but I could say the same."

Why the hell are my palms sweating?

My collateral nodded and straightened. A tall man clad in white robes chose that moment to enter, effectively silencing the camaraderie with one "friendly" glare. I took a breather to look around. There were several faces I recognised: the guy from the tech block with thick glasses, a girl whom I had passed by in Lumiose Galettes, another from our own class. They held their backs straight, eyes straighter, but the gleam that I found in Serena's eyes was noticeably absent.

"We're gathered here for the phenomenon that Kalos is proud to have perpetuated," the professor started. The rest of his speech was drowned out in favour of observing the crowd gathered. Not a single one of them was giving their one hundred to the theory being taught. That was the state of the current generation. Should I be proud to be part of it?

"Choose a partner. You'll be given a mega stone and a key stone based on the pokémon you own—all property of the Collegium. However, they must be earned throughout the month's classes. Today's session will provide an insight into mega evolution and how it feels like."

I could feel a set of Poliwag-shaded eyes turn at the side of my head. "Kazehara-kun."

None of my collateral's bosom pals were present, meaning...

"Do you want to partner up?" she asked softly, quite a visible colour dusting her cheeks. My heart did a little victory dance. This meant my charms were working. Holy moly.

"Sure!" I grinned, holding out my weapon's pokéball. Technically, a keystone wasn't required, but I accepted it from Professor Sycamore. "Didn't any of your friends sign up?"

She shook her head, golden hair curling around her shoulders differently than it had yesterday. Or maybe it was the dim lighting of the streets. "Shauna was disqualified since she didn't own any pokémon that could potentially mega evolve. The same case with those two dumb heads, Tierno and Trevor. Miette simply wasn't interested and coaxed Calem into going clubbing with her instead."

Wait, Calem was Miette's boyfriend? Teenage politics...

Serena caught me looking and, as if reading my mind, chuckled softly. "He's not Miette's boyfriend. She just wanted him to step out of his introversion. Besides, I think somebody else has a crush on him."

Serena didn't have to reveal who it was. It wasn't her. Definitely not. Unless girls were different from what the Directorate's ashen records read.

We reached the battlefield, then touched pokéballs—her bejewelled one against my dusk ball. "May the best trainer win."

A student acting as referee announced the start of the battle, so I called upon my second ace. "This field is ours. Go, Greninja!"

The ninja pokémon materialised, and the referee plastered the mega ring on his hand before facing Serena, who then released her starter, a mighty Delphox with smooth fur and an air of arrogance around her. The fire fox matched her trainer's mega ring. "Let the battle commence!"

Serena didn't call for a move. That gave her away as a diplomatic fighter. Or perhaps she was analyzing my patterns first. The students of this Collegium were not to be underestimated, even if I had dealt worse. Delphox's fingers twitched. This was it.

"Move, Greninja!"

A spontaneous Flamethrower burst out of her wand, setting fire to the spot Greninja was previously on. My water-type materialised just behind Serena's pokémon.

"Aerial Ace!" I commanded, slashing the air before me.

"Block it and use Mystical Fire!"

His webbed feet glowed white before the move struck. Although, it wasn't full damage. Delphox had managed to slow the momentum with her wand. Her recovery span was lesser than Greninja required, and just as anticipated, the water pokémon was hit by a magical burst of flame. She's strong.

"We don't go down easily," Serena challenged just when both the pokémons landed on their paws. I smirked. She was overconfident, but so was I.

Our hands simultaneously inched to the gloves we wore. The key rings glowed, and with a tap, I held it up, letting the mega evolution change the tide of the battle. Greninja's mega stone responded just as vigorously, and a bright flash left the stadium waiting in anticipation. This was the first time Greninja had mega evolved, but he wasn't alien to the phenomenon in itself. A master never forgets his ways.

"What a magnificent pokémon," I marvelled, just for credits, watching Delphox's fur rustle against the wuthering Lumiose weather. Two broomsticks drifted apart, both flamed, while the pokémon rode a third, much larger one.

"I could say the same about yours," she said, tilting her head playfully. Her eyes drifted up to where Greninja was floating upside down, then to me, a glint of something other than passion for the battle consuming the blue irises. I caught on quickly.

This battle would be the death of us.

Chapter Text

Mega Evolution had tired us out. Or at least, it had managed to tire Satoshi Kazehara out. AK08 was more than accustomed to a rookie, first-time phenomenon-use Pokémon battle.

"It didn't seem like your first time."

A smirk tugged at my lips. After Professor Sycamore's marvelling session, we had managed to sneak out of the dome battlefield for a recon. Delphox and Greninja were currently taken over by Nurse Joy, and the stones were back to the instructor. That didn't calm my racing heart.

Serena slid closer, our shoulders brushing. I still vividly recalled the blaze in her eyes as she set the stadium on fire with her starter. Lapse detected. Recalibrate, AK08.

"Maybe in another life."

A chuckle— that soft sound that I assumed was reserved for Satoshi. "I enjoyed the battle."

I turned to her, watching the Lumiose shades paint her a vermillion gold. "So did I." The bleachers of the sports stadium weren't the perfect setting for a confession, but the timing... the timing felt oddly right. With the sunset in the backdrop and the light blush that tinted her cheeks while she held my eye, there could be no better time. "You're talented as heck."

The girl snorted, turning away quickly. Her fingers fumbled with the end of her hair — her nervous tic. I could almost feel the leash pulse in pride. I was getting close...

"I-I mean, you brought that out of me. It's been so... so long since I had a battle of that kind."

"Surprising to hear you don't battle often, Miss."

She brought a hand to punch my forearm playfully. "I actually don't... I used to battle Dad all the time, but then he got busy with his... research." There it was. The gulp of hesitation, a stammer in her statement that wasn't related to my presence. Was Serena aware of her parents' wrongdoings? Was she cooperating with them? Or was she blissfully ignorant of it? Whatever it was, I couldn't prod forward. Not now.

"Well, you found yourself a battle rival then," I said instead, giving her the Satoshi Kazehara grin when she turned back to me, cheeks hot. "And perhaps I would get more insights into your performance-style battling too. That's quite fascinating and new to me."

That wasn't totally a lie. This girl battled like the field was her stage. She reigned with elegance and a fiery spirit that only managed to nearly undo my strategies. If it weren't for that last-minute Double Team and Water Shuriken, I would have had to send the Directorate a log of how I lost my second-ever battle.

"Oh, shut up. You're the one who ruled the battlefield with that Mega beast of yours."

"Just saying, Delphox ain't no beginner."

"Nor are you."

The eye contact pulsed before she broke out laughing, unrestrained by politeness or the chivalry she learned from her family. With the wisdom of years to guide me, I feigned the expression. After the bubble broke, she leaned back against the stands, sighing in content.

"Arceus, it's been so long since I've laughed like that."

I turned to her cautiously, but her gaze was melting at the sunset before us. "Like what?"

"Like I didn't know why I was laughing." Our eyes locked again, and for a fleeting second, a sheer idiotic thought crossed my mind. Kiss her now.

The spell didn't last long — both by the sane part of me withdrawing from the mental gymnastics and by Serena reaching forward to brush my fringes away from my vision. "Does it hurt? There's a purple spot."

My limbs froze. "Uh." Great. Get a grip, AK08! Restore the equilibrium. "Not much. No," I said evenly, filing away the deviation for future analysis. The Handler shouldn't catch a problem for throwing me into this mission.

"It looks ugly, Kazehara-kun."

Why was her voice so... concerned? Even her eyes held the same sympathy. Was it just guilt, or was it possible that she was, as per the Directorate's unbidden wish, falling for this fake persona?

"Thanks."

A harrumph of dismay. "You're impossible." I watched her reach into her purse and withdraw what looked like a... lip balm? "Hold still." Warmth flooded my skin when both her hands cupped my cheeks. I averted my gaze from her nervous tic. Yup, the chewing-on-lip thing. Even if I was an espy, she held her privacy, and it pained to take up a mission where a girl was used for so-called consensual intimacy.

But I was but a lonely puppet on the strings of the ISD.

"Ivyheal. It's an arnica cream from Shauna's dad's estate, Maison de Kalos. Smells good, heals fast," she whispered, withdrawing and observing her handiwork with a smile on her lips. "You can take it if you want. I can always buy another."

I tried to refuse, but the girl just wouldn't listen. After she was sure that the said cream was safe within my breast pocket and my hair was out of the sore spot (with an embarrassing clip that I wanted to get rid of the very second she turned her back on me), she remarked, "I'll walk you to your dorm."

On the way, we caught two silhouettes whisper-shouting. I did a double take. Calem and... Shauna?

"Oh, those two," Serena giggled, grabbing my forearm to steer me towards the exit. She didn't say anything until we got to the entrance of the med ward. "Shauna has this massive crush on that guy, but he's too much of an introvert. Don't tell him I told you that."

"My honour." Great. More Kalos politics, teenage edition. "Do you have a crush on anybody?"

Serena froze.

I didn't get a chance at words, but this was my best shot to find if Operation Hatch had pulled up at the doorstep of the next stage or if I was going south with it.

Her hands dislodged from my shoulder like I had electrocuted her. Then...

"I... don't know if I do... b-but even if I did, there's no way he would... fall for me." I didn't know why the image of her squirming in her own arms had my chest in knots. Whatever it was, this wasn't the time to brood over it.

"Why wouldn't he?" I said instead, hoping I still hadn't crossed the line. Then again, where did it start and where does it end? "You're smart, strategic, elegant, and so much—"

"Kazehara-kun," she cut me short. When her eyes finally lifted from her soles, my valour betrayed me. That same blush was back, but the question pierced through my instincts this time. Was it because of somebody else, and I was doing all this bewitching for nothing?

"Yeah?"

Her colour rose, lashes resting against her cheeks. The next thing I knew, the air was cold as dead. Serena had pushed past my attempts at stealing her feelings. Was I speeding up the process? Was I messing everything up because The Handler didn't give clear instructions on what made a guy a green-flag? Heck, how was I supposed to give today's logs without admitting how this operation was doomed from the minute they appointed a romantically inept person such as I on it?

Chapter Text

The day was filled with half-smiles and casual glances. Handler's reprimands from last night echoed in my brain, louder than the ringing in my ears that had started when my forehead bit into the iron shutter. Don't cross the line, Agent AK08. This mission might not be your suit but espionage is your suit.

She forgot to mention the romance in it. Arceus, I didn't feel like a teenager. Never did. Forced to grow up in a world that offered so less unless you were born lucky or were ready to eat away at your own hands, I just didn't get the hormonal rush.

Now in Professor Sycamore's eerily quiet class, I could only ponder how mega evolution was dangerous — awestruck battle techniques plugged in as dangerous. Serena stood a little to the side, arms wrapped around herself. The beaded pokéball of Delphox hung from her belt just like yesterday, but unused. We had had our chances ruining the battlefield yesterday that the groundsman had issued today as our day off from practice battling. Serena didn't look too pleased with it, and I didn't bother approaching her.

An Absol and a Victreebel were fighting far beyond. The grass-poison pokémon spit out violent venom, which the dark type easily dodged. But... the way it pounced up, the left claw over the right, indicated something fishy. My eyes narrowed at its glowing horn and the subsequent issue of orders from its trainer, a guy. While he called for it to use Crunch, the pokémon moved like it was untamed, unleashing a strong Psycho Cut that the enemy Victreebel barely managed to take. With the second Psycho Cut, the battle seemingly ended.

But the dark type didn't look like it was pacified. Its scarlet eyes scanned the crowd, teeth crunching while the trainer tried to return it. The moment it landed at the stands, my heart threw itself against its enclosure. It was out of control.

A strong wave rippled through the air. My feet acted before my mind could catch on, and we hit the ground with her yelping in pain in my arms. Electricity crackled in the air — familiar, soothing — but there was another mighty roar. One that wasn't Absol's. With a great slash, a Garchomp had got the enraged pokémon to its knees, devolved and exhausted. The trainer was quick to apologise.

"Are you both okay?" Professor Sycamore asked once I got off of my collateral. I couldn't have afforded any harm to her. Not on my life. "Mega evolution does make the pokémon go wild. I should have had it under control, my bad."

I turned to an extremely shaken Serena. The poor girl was still hugging herself, her breathing ragged. Pikachu nuzzled against her boots, sighing softly. "Chaa~?"

But to no effect.

Serena's shoulders trembled, blanched fingernails biting into her forearm. Do it, AK08. Do it for the mission. Lowering myself to meet her eye, I reached for her shoulders. "It's okay. You're safe now. Relax."

Professor Sycamore lingered behind us for a moment longer. "You two should rest. I'll get the clean-up done. We'll call in tomorrow to clear the mess. Clemont, can you post it in the group as well?"

The bespectacled boy from the tech division nodded. I nearly flinched when a hand squeezed my shoulder — Professor Sycamore. Why had I let my guard down?

Later in the quaint homeroom, Serena managed to recompose herself. She fell into a bow, hands on knees in a very Sinnohan style. "I owe you so much, Kazehara-kun."

Pikachu chirped softly, climbing onto a nearby desk. His next move was to give the frightened girl a nuzzle, but that wouldn't be necessary. Serena was just collateral — not somebody Pikachu could get attached to, regardless of how affection-driven this mission came off as.

"Please don't mention that, Miss."

She cut me short with inflated cheeks and a demeanor that suggested nothing of her withdrawal a few minutes ago. "Please don't call me that. It puts a walk between us, all the formality."

I blinked. I couldn't just refer to her as collateral or by her first name. The latter wasn't the Sinnohan etiquette, and Satoshi Kazehara was supposed to be from the region of timeless culture.

"I wouldn't know how else to refer to you as," I said dryly, hoping I would come off as joking or even bashful. "That's just how people in Kalos refer to each other by, right?"

She shook her head, a low chuckle rumbling from her throat. Some of the other students from our course had fallen silent by that time, choosing to spend time with their pokémon over chatting about the disaster. Maybe that was for the better. Cope with bonding rather than mulling over what transpired in the near past. If only I wasn't a hypocrite...

"Not everyone follows that. That's mostly for strangers, mere acquaintances," Serena explained, running her fingers through Pikachu's fur. The electric type pokémon seized the opportunity to climb into her lap, almost toppling the two of them from the bench.

"Ah, sorry about him," I apologized quickly, shooting my starter a glare. He still didn't get the message, though. "He tends to go overboard whenever someone pets him."

"Oh, you should do it more often then!" Her fingertips traced the edge of his jaw, to his eartips then down to his tail — his weak spot. Surprisingly enough, everything she got in return was a comfortable "chaaa~." "He seems to love it."

Yeah, of course. If I were to keep doing that, my starter would forget his abilities and might as well lose against a level five Snivy. I wouldn't hear the end of it from the Handler then.

"You're not going home tonight?" I probed, eyeing the rest of the crowd. Everything felt normal. Except my insides that were doing a Machamp's worth of gymnastics.

"No. Dad's meeting up with a fellow Professor," she answered easily. Without a second thought. Like I had won her trust. Or maybe it wasn't that big of a secret. Never underestimate the job you have done and the work you still have left.

"A Professor? Of this Collegium?"

Serena laughed. I didn't know whether it was just in her books or if I was actually making progress. Then again, never underestimate your work, AK08.

"No, he's a researcher from a Paldean organisation. He called it quits there and is now running around as a pokémon professor instead," the girl explained. "Dad knows him for a month and a half now. I think he's a good man."

"That's nice."

"He has a Charizard," she went on, a sudden glint taking over her eye. "I wonder if it can mega evolve. They look so cool together!"

A Professor from Paldea with a Charizard is friends with the target. That was news to the Directorate. With the perfect informants, the body can trace back to the concerned Professor and the detailed whereabouts of this black ops could be found. Oh, Serena had no idea how much she had given away at this slice-of-life moment. I shouldn't prod more lest I arise suspicions.

"So," I leaned back on my seat, watching her lazily. Satoshi Kazehara was supposed to be exhausted with that heroism he displayed before. "What do I call you as?"

The question seemed to have broken the honey-blonde's reverie. Her lips tugged up into a pretty smile. "Just call me by my name, Kazehara-kun!"

Chapter Text

I woke up, daylight too bright against my vision and the Leash flashing red with an incoming call. Quickly wrenching free of the sheets, I tugged it on answer.

"You have a mission, Agent AK08," came the Handler's stoic voice. Her point was clear. This was a sub-mission, something out of—or connected to—Operation Hatch. "Your Dean has been informed that you called in sick with yesterday's mega evolution rampage. Details have been remitted to the Leash."

"Copy that."

The call ended with a fading beep, her voice still ringing in my ears. The cream Serena gave the day before lay on the table, untouched. Her mannerisms from yesterday, the feel of her silky soft hair against my cheek—they were so vividly etched into my brain, even though saving her from that darned Psycho Cut had been my only intention. Arceus, why's this so draining? Running a hand down my face, I sucked in a sharp breath. I didn't need that cream, did I?

The Leash pulsed again, this time with archives of classified information and the profile of one other agent who was clubbing in together, seemingly from the Paldean branch of the ISD. Something about unauthorised Mega activity that needed an aura calibration. The report ended with one line that stole my breath.

Priority Red Directive: Lucario.

Taking the taxi was easier than slipping out of this lofty institution without being recognised. Not that I was popular—just that Serena's friends were more outdoorsy than in class. Thankfully, I never got a chance to collide into her.

The rendezvous point was at the outskirts of the city—a quaint building towered before me, built in a style that wasn't exactly what the capital of Kalos gave off as. The vibe just hit old Kantonian, or a mix of Sinjoh architecture.

"Hello!"

I didn't turn at the chirpy voice. If this wasn't my partner for this mission, I would need a back-out plan. "You waiting for someone?"

"Depends," I answered, exhaling slowly. "You lost, tourist?"

"Not exactly. Just looking for a guide. They say my guide has got some kind of aura problem."

That was the phrase. Code fragment embedded in the report addendum. I turned to face a boy not much older than I was. His tanned skin glimmered, the sweat he wore coolly. "Then you've found the right guide."

He smirked—a signature of trainees of the ISD. We couldn't smile. We never did. "You must be..."

"Archer Reed. Pleased to meet you."

We didn't shake hands. Not unless there was a need.

"Roid Falkner. Let's cut straight to the calibration, shall we?"

I couldn't agree more, even if the building looked like it would not stand another foot on it.

We set into motion real quick, using the developed, highly sensitive aura detector that was developed within the Leash. Roid shared the technology, making it easier for us to split up and look for the unidentified source.

It happened before I turned a corner. A mystery side door that led to a much bigger, ornamented one. After calling Roid for backup, I retrieved the key to this mission: my Lucario.

"Can you do it?" A whisper to the wind. Cold wind. There wasn't a reply.

"Are we good, Archer?"

Roid was here. He couldn't see how my fingers trembled on the Poké Ball.

"Yeah." So what if Lucario can't fight? Greninja and Pikachu could take this enemy down. With ease. We've fought legendaries. We could do this one unknown foe. "Let's go."

The atmosphere completely shifted the minute we stepped into the room. Built just in the same Sinjoh architecture as I predicted was the room. A blinding gold, but still paled before my collateral's hair in the glowing sunset. Pikachu leaped out of my bag, battle stance ready.

"En garde," Roid remarked, releasing his own Pokémon, a Crocalor. "This looks like—"

The Pokémon at the end of the room turned, slow, eyes still closed. A pulse too strong emanated from its core, leaving me breathless. "A shiny Lucario."

No sooner had the name left my lips than the Pokémon moved. Its form distorted. "Pikachu, dodge!"

But my starter was a second too late. The Shiny Lucario sent Pikachu tumbling into shingles with a mighty kick. Crocalor aimed a Flame Charge that the Steel- and Fighting-type used to accelerate itself against.

"The Speed stat seems to be off the charts," Roid gritted through his teeth, his Leash reading the attributes of the Pokémon. "We'll have to distract."

"Copy that." Pikachu was charging up. "Pikachu, Thunderbolt! Swerve and hit!"

The electricity blinded the lights, plunging us into darkness. Just when Roid issued a command, an Aura Sphere slammed something heavy onto the ground. "No! Crocalor!"

This was a deadly enemy with an even deadlier speed. There was no way we could do it without—

But I couldn't force him. Not in his condition.

"Pikachu, you can keep it up, right, buddy?" I asked into the darkness. The screaming thunder tore into the roof, leaving more shingles falling apart. The dust managed to stack onto the Shiny Lucario, momentarily trapping the Pokémon.

"PIKA!"

"Great!" I turned to Roid. "Give me an opening!" The pink-haired boy nodded, slashing the air before him.

"Crocalor, use Flamethrower! Heat up the pile!"

His Pokémon obliged, and the heat forced the Fighting- and Steel-type out of its hiding. "Thunderbolt, now!" With a quick strike, Pikachu unleashed our favourite move.

A loud clang of metal. I half-expected the Shiny Lucario to be charred, but when the smoke curled away at its muzzle, I knew the battle was far from over. Pikachu didn't get a moment to recover. Both of our Pokémon were struck down with an angry metal claw. An aura charged up, and my feet scrambled forward to shield Pikachu.

BLAST!

White light enveloped us, and my pulse spiked. Lucario materialized before us, using a protective Bone Rush. Two mighty roars put distance between the Pokémon.

"Rior!" Lucario barked, giving a side-eye that clearly conveyed the Pokémon's intentions. He wanted to battle. Not just as himself, but together with me. Again. Concern flooded my brain. Then again…

Who was I to doubt him?

"Then let's do it together!" The keystone glowed blue in the dim lighting. My fingers grazed my Mega Glove. I vaguely registered Roid issuing a command to his Pokémon. "Lucario, Mega Evolve!"

The synchronisation enveloped Lucario into a blinding glow, leaving behind a beast in its aftermath. This wasn't going to be a repeat of the Team Rocket incident. Not again.

"Give 'em a barrage of Aura Sphere!" I commanded, voice clear. Lucario wouldn't sense a thing. Not a nerve out of place. Not again.

Both the fighters collided into a serious hand throw, one using multiple Aura Spheres while the other parried with Close Combat. Crocalor sneaked up right behind with a Flame Charge.

"Bone Rush! Slam it down!"

Lucario obliged, and a taste of what the shiny Pokémon did to Pikachu was spoon-fed. The minute it slumped, I turned to Roid. "Go ahead."

The Paldean agent didn't waste a moment in throwing an Ultra Ball. The thing hovered mid-air, then clicked with a silent beep!

My eye, however, wasn't on the ball. It quickly averted to Lucario detransforming and Pikachu's call for help. Everything that followed was a rush of adrenaline. Roid said something about a friend close by, and I had withdrawn Lucario with stinging eyes and an apology that didn't quite make it to his ears.

As promised, a man met up with us just outside the rendezvous point. Charming, and with another Pikachu, he vanished with Lucario to a ship. Those ten minutes had been the most agonizing for Pikachu and me—waiting on the ground while Lucario was somewhere up in the air, with a foreign person nonetheless. Roid tried to be of help, but meditating was far from what was on my mind.

"You can't go on with that, boy," he had snarled. His Mewtwo mirrored his expression, standing tall over us. But trust never wavered where Mega Evolution was possible.

"I believe you, Lucario."

That was all I had said. That meaningless sentence that pushed him to his best, to his worst. Lucario's exertion landed him in a position of no movement for three weeks. Three weeks of miserable nights and even worse days spent in the Directorate's medical wing. I had staunchly disagreed to any mission.

And yet, he put himself in the same position today. For me. Because of that belief.

"Archer, look!" Roid's exclamation knocked me out of my reverie. The man—his ally—landed beside his Charizard, my Pokéball in his hand.

"All patched up. Agent M said your Lucario needs time to heal, as both his knee ligaments have been severely damaged from a past fight. Is she right?" the man asked, holding out the Luxury Ball. I accepted it gratefully.

"Yes."

A pause.

"Worry not, kid," the man grinned. But how could I not? When Lucario had been my first Pokémon to put itself through such a situation just because I wouldn't go down without a bullet to the heart? "That one's not going down anytime soon, and Mol—I mean, Agent M's the best nurse aboard our ship." Roid nodded in agreement. The Handler chose that moment for a call.

"Felicitations, Agents." She sounded chill, like Roid and I were her attaboys. "You can set off on the next mission, Professor Friede. The details have seemingly been transmitted to the ship's central Leash."

The white-haired man chuckled humourlessly, his Pikachu already tightening the cap on his head. "We'll be packing off to our next mission, then."

Roid and I shook hands before the Charizard took off. "Thanks for the experience, Agent Archer."

Experience, he called it. More like a hallowing nightmare. Even Pikachu agreed.

It wasn't until I had hit the dormitory bed, when my mind freed up from the worries of Lucario, that it struck.

Professor. With a damned Charizard. And Roid was from Paldea!

Lol, what?

Chapter Text

Serena found me in my pajamas the next day. A very embarrassing state to be found in, I had to admit, but after cups of caffeine and squinting at the screen, trying to learn everything there was to one Professor Friede, that was all I was: a mess. The details on the internet left me unsated.

“Are you okay?” Serena trembled, her arms reaching out to grab mine. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from flinching. “The Dean said you were feeling under the weather, and I came over thrice yesterday, but you didn’t answer the door!”

Was this concern I sensed?

Was the operation on its track?

“I–um.” Great. What eloquence, AK08. Gather yourself, buddy. “I just slept the entire day. I didn’t—”

The air was knocked out of my lungs when her arms pulled me in by the spine. They locked somewhere near my neck, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything but my own flailing hands and the strong lavender she left in her wake. Pikachu sniggered long after her blushing mess left my doorstep with unearned, homemade soup in a flask and a whole load of apologies that I didn’t know the reason for.

“I have no idea what goes on in the mind of that girl,” was all I could tell the smug Electric-type. Too bad Serena had left him tasty Poképuffs. None of them were going to see the light inside his tiny stomach when I lived.

Even as we partook of the warm soup together, I couldn’t help but ponder… Was Serena really falling for me? Was this the right time to give her one massive green flag and go all out with a confession?

The answers to those questions would decide the course of Operation Hatch, and were therefore required to be taken with a clean slate of mind. Not one that was fuelled with worries and caffeine.

A crowd was gathered in the class when I walked in that morning, stomach warm and Pikachu all snores in my bag. Calem quickly found me and waved over. “They’re hosting some fresher’s fest,” he informed, pointing at a banner that was plastered to the class’ notice board. “Apparently, they’re short on hands.”

“Are you gonna join?” I asked, looking up at him. Boy, was he tall for someone my age.

“No. Even if I wanted to, Miette wouldn’t let me. She’s dead set on expanding my comfort zone to an uncharted territory. Dunno if Shauna would, either.”

That meant Serena would only have Trevor and Tierno, should she decide to join. More alone time with my collateral? Heck yes. All for the mission.

“What about you?” came a cheery voice. A smirk tugged at my lips—perfect. Satoshi mode: in progress.

“I mean, I don’t have anybody there.” I feigned a lonely sigh. “I’ll be a stuck-up among superiors.”

A thoughtful look crossed her eyes. Then, she pouted. “I’m in need of company too.”

“Why don’t you both sign up together, then?” Calem suggested. He was the perfect fuel for Operation Hatch. The openings he gave were more valuable than he would ever realise.

That meant… it was Satoshi’s turn. “So…” My hand found the back of my neck, that warm spot where hers had locked, thirty or so minutes ago. “Shall we, S-Serena?”

The intentional stammer landed just right, eliciting a blush across her cheeks. “S-sure!”

All that was left was to convince her to call me just as informally as I was allowed to call her. Perhaps then… Hatch would finally advance to its next phase.

It was an easy mistake. One foot slightly angled wrong on a rung. I had spotted it, but that could be an opening—not just to her heart, but to the operation itself. So I kept my silence and let time take its course. She slipped, and in a moment of freefall, Greninja caught her.

“You have to be more careful!” I reprimanded her, anger mixed with concern feigned. The tone of my apprehension made her cower, even long after the rest of the crew vacated the accident point. “If Greninja hadn’t been there—oh, Arceus!”

“Kazehara-kun…” she interrupted softly. She looked oddly reminiscent of a Meowth being mewed upon by older and much more knowledgeable Persians. “Why do you worry about me so much?”

For the mission. Because I can’t let anything happen to you. If I did, I would have to bid goodbye to the many double lives I’ve been living. I didn’t state the truth. The truth never left my mouth. Not to strangers. Only to the Handler and the Directorate’s higher-ups.

“Because I—”

Tell it, AK08. This is your chance.

“I—”

But how was I supposed to lie to her? Use her for a consensual relationship that wasn’t right? Especially when the little specks of pastel blue eyes held nothing but sincerity as they bore into mine? Would she sense the distrust and the embezzlement I had in store for her future if she were to look into my browns? Would she?

“Kazehara-kun?”

I snapped. No. Spies never housed a heart. If at all they did, it was made just for them to espy. A heart of… ice.

“Because I genuinely like you.” The breath left my chest like something that had been caged behind, finally being freed. No presence of guilt, just the way AK08 had been trained. At least, not yet. “And I can’t afford to lose you.” At least that was the truth, even if it wasn’t necessarily meant to be understood the way it was conveyed.

Serena swallowed, her eyes teary. She quickly looked away, using the back of her hand to wipe them dry. Had I been too quick?

Oh shoot.

“I-I mean, you don’t have to, you know, reciprocate anything,” I added instantly, stepping back in fear of making her uncomfortable. Think, AK08. What did the book of human psychology tell you on how to deal with emotionally compromised situations? Was it acceptance? Or was it begging for pardon? “Heck, I didn’t even mean to—”

The twenty-one excuses that I had prepared dissolved. Serena curved forward, our breaths colliding in a hasty embrace. That same lavender from the morning, and two nights before, flared through my nostrils. I vaguely registered goosebumps erupting at the back of my neck where her fingers interlocked, yet again. This was the second time in her arms. The second time in a day, and the tremendous amount of calm it brought along with it was… unnerving. So alien. Unlike anything I was used to—and that’s coming from someone who had had blood streaming out of their body, had tears oozing out of eyes, and had been a man drowning in his own sweat.

“You don’t have to act so mature at all times, Kazehara-kun. Not with me.” Her voice was low, only intended for Satoshi. Despite being locked in an embrace, she feared external ears. Was it something notable? Maybe she had privacy issues with her parents. Or her friends. I had to be sure before reporting to the Handler. “Not when I… like you too.”

The sentence cut my oxygen supply short for a millisecond. I had to mentally remind myself of who I was, just so I wouldn’t lose myself in whatever bewitching this girl was doing with her hands and her words. You’re not Satoshi Kazehara. You’re Agent AK08 under the radar.

“I—” Great. Now get back to cover and quit stammering! Abort the deviation!

She pulled back from the hug, but her arms still remained looped around my neck. Like I was grounding her. Shame, really. Such a shame that she chose to fall in love with a person who didn’t exist. As such, staring into her truthful blues shouldn’t have tripped me into the abyss of guilt. I was built for more than just those humane emotions. If that was the case, why couldn’t I take my eyes off her? Snap back!

But it simply didn’t work. My muscles failed to comply. Even the optic ones. Don’t get attached to your collateral. If this was what the Handler meant by attachment…

“Damn!” I wrenched apart from her grip, hand finding my forehead. The bruise from looking out for her stung—a reminder, an anchor back to the reality of my existentialism. Recalibrate, now!

“Anything wrong?”

I took a second over. Her bliss had faded, replaced by concern that wasn’t feigned, unlike mine. For a split second, I regretted taking up this mission. Perhaps a hunt for another evil boss or an employee embezzlement would have been better, even if Lucario wouldn’t have been able to participate in it.

“Nothing,” I breathed out, taking another step back, more subconsciously than by choice. I couldn’t run away. Not when the first phase had passed in flying colours. I must get back to being Satoshi. At least for now. Establish internal equilibrium, regardless of how it went against my value system. “I just… I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me.”

The smile that lit her expression at the simple question was too radiant for me to doze under.

Chapter Text

The clock in my study mercilessly glowed blue with 23:47. The Handler's node pulsed red before my call was answered.

"Agent AK08, what's your status report?"

"Phase one of Operation Hatch has been successfully completed. Preliminary objectives achieved with minimal resistance. Collateral has demonstrated emotional vulnerability, and convergence has been manageable. I shall move on to the next phase starting tomorrow. Roger."

A pause. Like she needed time to stabilize herself. "Very well. You have a perfect 54 days to get the intelligence. The Directorate expects nothing less of you."

"Yes."

The call ended, leaving the room in silence except for the fan of the laptop. Pikachu stirred on the bed slightly but didn't wake. I watched him for a long moment before opening notes. Honesty hadn't been pursued in today's report. While everything was the truth, that one line which mattered the most was fabricated. Emotional convergence being manageable, when I could still smell the lavender of her essence and feel the warmth of her fingers behind my neck. Regardless of the long shower I had taken—perhaps one of the longest in my life—it hadn't come off like blood and dirt always had. I could only hope the Handler hadn't caught the bluff in my voice. If she had, I would be finished, but as long as there wasn't a deceiving tone in her end-of-report, I was on the safe side of the Directorate.

DateRem.docx read the file I had been working on ever since coffee. I double-tapped the touchpad, and it opened to a beautiful (and simultaneously absurd) list of date ideas and the ways they could go wrong.

If she tries to hold your hand. Remedy: reciprocate the gesture for 27 seconds before pulling away under the pretense of spotting a legendary Pokémon.

If she leads you to her favorite spots. Remedy: go with the flow and laugh at everything she says.
Key: reconnaissance.

If she laughs at your jokes. Remedy: crack more jokes. Appear stupid. Foundation for much-needed rapport.

If she talks about family.
Key: reconnaissance. Internalize: body language, tonal changes, and vocabulary deployed.

If weather turns wild. Remedy: deploy the Directorate's Castform, Sunny Weather.

By the forty-eighth reason, the list had turned absurd. After a long glance, I deleted the draft before the system synced to the Directorate's tech drives.

If she kisses you. Remedy: reciprocate the gesture for 32.7 seconds. Kiss her cheek instead. Claim it as your first.

Truth be told, it would be my first, should it come true. My fingers found the scalp of my unruly hair. Somehow, it had managed to tangle up even worse — a sign of disillusionment. I was in it for real. I could only hope it ends when it ends.

She greeted me in the morning with a smile that twisted my insides. Her rosy cheeks gave her away when a pretty bag held together by a blue ribbon was proffered. What if it was a bomb disguised as something beautiful? "What's that?"

She tilted her head, eyes darting between mine. Her silence didn't calm my pulse, not when she was observing me like I had handed her the world. That was impossible. This was but a storm inside a teacup.

"Cookies. I baked them last night when I couldn't sleep," she confessed shyly. "Looks like you didn't either..."

A nervous chuckle—perfectly deceiving—escaped me. Only, it was not faked. "Y-yeah. I was planning the places you'd like, and I genuinely prayed to Arceus that you do."

She chuckled, no longer tied behind the back of her hand, and I accepted the bag of cookies. There was no harm if I were to run a venom tester scan on it. Maybe later in the dorms.

We fell into step towards our first class. "How should I dress, Kazehara-kun?"

That was an odd question. Why would that even irk me? Oh wait. I was supposed to be her boyfriend. Holy moly—did I even ask her to be my girlfriend? Maybe I should have done that before signing off Phase One of Operation Hatch as successful. It was anything but that at this point, especially given the rising levels of emotional convergence from my side.

"Anything you feel comfortable in?" It was half a question. Something that was unanswered till the evening, when I heard a resonating knock at my dormitory. Pikachu fell off the chaise he was resting on the minute the door angled open.

Clad in a turtleneck and an overall skirt, Serena had managed to preserve modesty and elegance in one go. Not gonna lie, I expected her to pull out the cliché teenage girl card and try to seduce yours truly with how much she was gushing over my… well, everything.

The honey-blonde tucked her neatly combed hair behind her ears, blushed, smiled, blushed more, and stammered. "H-how do I look?"

I froze. Sure, she was really gorgeous, but… was teenage hormone rebellion really AK08's thing? Why the hell could I hear my heartbeat like I had run from Kanto to the top of Prism Tower?!

"Stunning, Serena-chan," I managed, fumbling with the cravat I had found in my disguises trunk. I figured I had to present myself as formally as possible with the little assets I owned. At the end of the day, my premonition had come true. Only, I had fallen short so badly.

Serena's smile brightened the room, her hair bouncing as she did a little skip. Her ocean blues seemed to melt into her happiness. "Thank you, Kazehara-kun!"

Was this worth the Pokémon eggs I was trying to save from being traded illegally?

We scanned the vicinity for the next ten minutes, finding a table at a café. She ordered a simple latte and a brioche that she claimed was super popular. My mirrored order was something I didn't regret.

Something that was extremely admirable about this girl was that she insisted we share the expenses. As per the Directorate's romance anthology rulebooks, the girl was treated as royalty. As much as this was just a temporary speed bump, she was invested in saving the organisation's funds. I couldn't deny that notion.

"Oh, oh, Arceus!!" she exclaimed over a plush of an Eevee. I obliged dutifully.

"Kazehara-kun, look here!" She jokingly pointed at a banner that read Mega Evolution, Mega Demolition? like it was an inner gag only we'd understand.

"There's ice cream on your nose!" she giggled, pulling out her lavender-scented, ladybug-printed hanky and leaning forward. My pulse hitched when her chuckles gave way to a deep crimson the moment I caught her hand from wiping the cream off my nose.

"You're babying me, Serena-chan." It was meant to be a joke, but I had wronged the third item on the list, dulling her mood almost instantly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off as—"

"Damn, no, that's not what I meant!" I protested immediately, letting our hands fall to our fronts. "I just… I'm still new to all this pampering, and I… I…"

What was I trying to tell her? What was lodged in my throat? I couldn't figure it out. Perhaps I had—but the minute her blues met mine, the espionage-soaked AK08 fled the crime scene. It was like drowning in a storm I knew was too dangerous to even test the borders of. Violent. Repulsive. But free.

"I just… like taking care of the ones who matter." Her voice was low, shy, real. My heart seized when she looked up. She has beautiful eyes, deeper than my mask, bright enough to vanquish the shadows of dishonesty within my thoughts. Wait… I hadn't thought of this possibility, and an unplanned moment always equaled disaster. "Kazehara-kun?"

The name was gentle, rolling off her lips. This was it. This felt like the beginning I feared. Memory reboot desperately needed. "Don't call me so formally, Serena-chan."

Her breath hitched, fingers trembling under the cover of her sleeves. I wanted to reach out, hold her slender digits against my coarse ones, reassure her with a web of lies—but the way she was looking at me… it was prodding at every firewall I had built.

"How should I refer to you?"

The world buzzed into silence. I was AK08, the world's youngest espy slash hitman to face legendary Pokémon and stand in the court of international law all by myself. I was AK08.

"Call me by my name."

Chapter Text

The Handler's directions ended here — a nook of the Vert Plaza. It housed dim lighting in the wee hours of the day and an even dingy café that looked like they weren't sure whether to open or not. Perhaps that was the point of interest. I had to take a closer look before I could get back with the cre—

"Satoshi-kun?"

Curse myself for letting my guard down.

There she was, Serena, a voice I had come to recognize even in dreams. Mostly because she did take the throne of them lately. Probably because of the mission. "Serena-san!" Control your pitch, you fool. "Top of the morning to you. Fancy seeing you here."

She tilted her head, looking confused. That was precisely the moment I noticed the dress she wore — the Collegium's crest emboldened on her chest. "Good morning," she greeted, sounding equal parts excited and perplexed. "I'm on my way to college, but what brings you here?" Her eyes drifted down. "You're jogging?"

Oh. Right. I was in my tracks.

"Yes!" I replied, hand finding the back of my head for no fake reason. This wasn't how I was supposed to give off my image as. "I love jogging! Fitness! Yeah, you get the picture!"

Whatever made her laugh surely wasn't my awkwardness... was it?

"Satoshi-kun, you might need to remove your shades if you wanna jog before the sunrise."

Shoot—

"I..." An idea struck. Grab two birds with one stone. "Don't have to." This was my chance for an aerial observation. Procuring my Cherish Ball, I flashed her the Satoshi grin. "Say, Serena-san, have you ever flown?"

Her face contorted in a puzzled frown. "In the Grand Canyons, once, but why do you ask?"

Charizard materialized before us, roaring softly. He understood the need for silence. I turned to Serena, dipping a little, hand on chest, in a show of curtsy. "Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?"

Her lips formed a perfect 'o', a subtle redness rushing to her cheeks. Then, in a reluctant motion, her hand rose. Mounting Charizard, I reached for her fingers, intertwining them before pulling her with the strength required to make it easier for her to climb. "Satoshi-kun, I'm... ready." She swallowed a word. It wasn't supposed to be ready. I just knew it, but time was running out.

"Hold on tight." I patted my fire-type twice — the code for taking it easy. He spread his wings, gale and wide, and we took off to her muffled screams. Heat crisped the tips of my ears. Her arms were locked around my midriff in a way I had never been through. "Serena-san!" I glanced over my shoulder, catching her honey-blonde hair in my shades. "Are you acrophobic?!"

"Y-y-yes!"

My heart stopped. What was I doing?

"Charizard, soar!"

"ZARD!"

Gravity slowed its hold on us. The fire-type had spread his wings wide, his snout angled towards us. The sky was dark still, yet to see the light of today. I felt her arms tighten for a fraction before I whispered, "Relax. Look around."

Her grip loosened. Not completely. Enough to pull back from my shirt. I took the moment to survey the surroundings under the pretext of admiring the view. A truck stood parked in the alley, a man and a woman carrying out consignments. As suspected, they vanished into the café. "I... wow," Serena breathed. I took another peek at her, and our eyes met.

"Do you like it?"

Her blush confirmed my answer. "Satoshi-kun..." Whatever she was about to tell was cut off by Charizard's reminder. It was time. I leaned back, relaxing against her arms. It was the time to let my guard down, but it had to be felt as such so that she felt safe. This was rapport building, but why was my heart racing like I had outrun Groudon?

The first rays of the sun lit the outskirts of the city. Touched by the warmth, I almost momentarily forgot the shenanigans going on beneath us. "Satoshi-kun, do you see this view every day?"

"Yeah," I lied. "Shall we get back down?" Foreign warmth crept in through my neck when she nuzzled closer in a nod. But instead of commanding Charizard to alight, I let the moment linger. Just a little longer. Just so I could feel that weird and... fuzzy, I suppose, feeling for a while.

Five pats and we had come to the ground. Serena got off first, her knees wobbling. The Collegium was just a few steps away, so she wouldn't have any problem. But I had to ask. "Do you want me to walk you to the Collegium?"

She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Time stilled, Charizard's flame glowing to the back of my vision. All I saw was the morning glory of the sunbeams dancing on her hair, then my ears began ringing with my pulse. Her lips grazed my skin, half a wet brush. I barely registered the incoming transmission and the beep of biosync data on the Leash. Her face was too... radiant and carefree.

"Thank you... for showing me a fragment of your life, Satoshi-kun!"

The Handler's warning didn't sit right.

As soon as I had seen Serena to the entrance, Charizard and I had returned to my dormitory. The Leash was waiting to be picked up, and the transmission from the other end conveyed that I was finished, just based on my biosync rates.

"Emotional convergence detected, Agent AK08. What's your side of the story?"

Curse the Leash for being too sensitive.

"Alarm, ma'am." It was a half-truth. "I was dealing with both my collateral as well as the sub-node of Operation Hatch. While my behaviour wasn't excusable, the detour yielded additional insight into Vert Plaza, and specifically Café Cyclone's logistics."

A pause. The static chilled the air. It was hard to keep breathing deep when I stood on a thread.

"Specify."

"Two couriers. Uniformed. They unloaded at the entrance. Looked heavy. Movement stopped when they entered the building in question. Black market point pleaded suspicion."

"Visual confirmation?"

"Negative," I answered coolly, leaning back against the chaise. "I couldn't risk proximity without breach of cover."

"Maintain cover until clearance. Another agent will be stepping in."

"Roger that."

The Leash pulsed bright blue, then faded out into a soft glow. As far as the mission was concerned, I was positioned as the collateral's boyfriend. That was all I was supposed to do, supposed to be. But the foreboding that loomed over the dormitory... I couldn't shake off the memory. It was a haze, really. The feel of her lips against my cheek, regardless of how ephemeral it was, the safety I felt when her arms wrapped around my torso... Serena had no business in Vert Plaza, and if I were to think of her presence with a trained mind, the question begged — was she flagged there knowing about Operation Hatch? Was she kept in tabs about every single logistic?

But that traitorous something within my ribcage gave a simple negative. She was headed to the Collegium. There was nothing more to it. Satoshi crashed into her because of his fitness frenzy, and a romantic (cue question mark) flight transpired. As it should between two lovers. There was nothing more to that either. Only...

Pikachu was watching with his steady brown eyes. He didn't trust me when I got too quiet. Neither did I, to be honest, for the first time in life.

Because only I had to convince myself there was nothing more to her embrace than unrequited feelings.
That all I did was for the mission — an act — and not for my own unsatiable pleasures.

Chapter Text

"You want the lights to stay golden?" a Kalosian tech student exclaimed, righting his glasses over his nose. I recognized him from the Mega Evolution classes—the boy with an enthusiastic Ampharos.

"Yeah, I think they'll look both quaint and fancy," Serena said, her eyes drifting between Shauna and me for additional votes. I added a nod.

"I think so too!" her friend piped in, but her enthusiasm wore off the second Clemont's laptop glitched off. He fumbled with the device before I caught his hand. My gut screamed incoming danger, and the Leash was beeping softly in alarm at the radioactive signals.

"I think you should give it a rest. It's been working since the morning," I suggested. He sighed, holding his head.

"But we have to get this soundtrack compilation ready by tonight."

"You have a laptop, don't you?" Serena asked, turning to me. The problem wasn't with lending the laptop; it was with the... suspicious apps installed on it. "Can you please lend it for an hour, Satoshi-kun?" She leaned forward, her hand finding my sleeve, bright blue almost melting my resolution.

Would Clemont recognize them? Maybe I could get away with it so long as I sat by him under the pretense of handling it. Yeah. That should do.

"Okay." I couldn't arouse suspicion. Yeah... that's the only reason. It wasn't like Serena had a part in my walls breaking. "I'll fetch it."

Fifteen minutes later, we sat huddled in Clemont's dormitory, music sparking in the air. It was a slow waltz, a genre that felt restless if you asked me. Maybe it was because I was used to brown noise or nothing at all. Something so dragged out—the strings of the violin and the monochrome keys of the piano—were for people who appreciated the finer arts. Someone like Serena. My eyes drifted to where the girl was swaying with her best friend in a mock dance, both of them giggling at a wrong misstep. Fun. Oh, how would it feel to swap shoes with them? Forget everything about the Directorate, all the written ordinances that helped maintain the espionage decorum, the Handler's disappointed gaze when I turned up scratched, Lucario fighting for his life after...

"Satoshi-kun?"

My brooding was shattered by her gentle voice. A hand stretched out before my vision, sensitive skin only held back by a blush-pink bangle. Our eyes met, and she nodded, a small smile hinting at her lips. Do I take it?

The answer was yes. I could build solidarity with her. Turn this into a bonding session.

The moment our fingers grazed, she pulled me up with unprecedented strength. The very robustness died out when I was back at my feet, letting her crash into my chest with a "Mmph!"

"Oopsie, Sunflora," Shauna teased, eyeing her best friend with a smirk. The expression totally backed out when she caught me looking, turning into half a warning scowl. Maybe I wasn't yet on good terms with everyone around.

"Ahh, my bad!" Serena screeched, stumbling back. Her clumsiness knew no bounds, and she crashed into Clemont's chaise, pulling me down with her. My ankle caught on the foot of the wood, and I went down hard. Somehow, instead of breaking her fall, I ended up cushioning her.

The room fell into a stunned silence, save for the music that Clemont was trying to salvage into a romantic one. For a second, I thought I'd hit my head because all I could process was the color of her eyes, the blood rushing to her face, and the look of... something other than duty and disappointment in her stare.

A cough. Not ours. "Ah—I'm so, so sorry!" she shrieked, her palms pressed flat against my chest to push herself up, but the movement only brought her closer. I willed my body to do something, anything, to put space between us, but all the training that had been drilled into the back of my muscle memory had drained out. Her honey-blonde hair brushed my jaw before she finally straightened.

"Well, that's one way of falling for someone." Shauna articulated each word crisply, the smugness in her voice mirroring her face. I averted my gaze from Serena's heated face before my chest could explode from... this heat.

"You guys... good?" Clemont asked, awkwardness tinted in his voice. I wouldn't blame him. Heck, I had to calm myself down before the Handler decoded the shift in my biosync rates.

"Y-yeah!" The honey-blonde's voice sure was pitched today, but who was I to talk? I feared mine coming out worse—hoarse or...

"Satoshi-kun." The shift in the lemon-blond's voice didn't go unnoticed. I inhaled before nodding. "I finished compiling the music. Could you please mail the file to my mail address? I've jotted it down in the notes."

Another nod. Serena, somehow sensing my distress, handed me her water bottle. I took it gratefully, taking a long sip, mentally assessing the shift in the environment. What did Clemont see? Had I left any of the tabs open? Don't overthink it, AK08. I can trace back to the apps he used, and if he had indeed come across something classified, even as a guest, there was only one way to get rid of his memories... Even if I personally didn't fancy the outcome, there was no other go other than extermination.

"Shall we hit the cafeteria before I see you to the metro?" Shauna asked her friend. Serena nodded, took my hand for one pulsing beat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Satoshi-kun." Oh, the way she pronounced my fake name... I had to learn the source of that. No! "Take care."

My breath hitched despite myself. The honey-blonde squeezed my digits, then left without another word. Like she hadn't just given me away to the Handler. Clemont's watching too!

Snapping back into my operative self, I shot Clemont a smile. "I'll be going too, if you let me." The blond nodded, unconvinced. His movements were rigid, like he had an insight into something he wasn't allowed. I had to find out before it was too late, and there was only one way. Be blunt. Blend in. "May I help you in any way?"

"Satoshi-kun, if you don't mind me asking..." He removed his glasses, using a soft cloth to wipe them, then fixed them back onto the bridge of his nose. Great. Another reason for that Handler to think I'm panicking, which the biosync rates probably reflected. "Why do you have the Cognoset installed on the laptop?"

My heart nearly stopped. It wasn't supposed to be on the guest user. Why was it...? There was no time to mull it over. Clemont was waiting on an excuse, and an excuse I would give.

"It's a very useful app," I vocalized. "Has many certificate cour—"

"I know what it is used for." His tone turned cold. Think, AK08, think. Agent Clemont. Agent Lumine. There was no operative under this name in the logs. Of course, he could be under a phony name, just like I was. But he wasn't in the Kanto subdivision. Was he from the Kalos ISD? But wasn't the Kalos branch cataclysmed in some dangerous mission five years ago? "I am the son of Blaziken Mask."

Blaziken Mask. That was a name I resonated with. One of the casualties in the downfall of the Kalos branch of the ISD. He was said to have led the group in their leader, Wulfric's, absence until the outside rebellion took down the building, swallowing all of its inhabitants in the fire. Something about a circuit failure. That was everything the Head Branch could salvage. Not a single witness cheated death. Not one.

I took a quick glance at the door. It was locked. The Leash didn't buzz with unsafe signals. If that were the case, I could proceed without fearing the walls having ears. "How did you...?"

"My Luxray found Dad's laptop in the fire. That was all I could get of him and..." Tears escaped his eyes, and he bit down on his lips. What exactly had he found in the laptop? "They... they were after my sister. She was friends with a legendary Pokémon, Zygarde, and they found an imbalance in nature."

I sat down. The blond was trying too hard not to break down. I couldn't speak a word against the emotions. I couldn't imagine losing my Pokémon and Serena.

Wait...

NO! I shouldn't—

"They were using the power that Pokémon emitted when they hatched out of their eggs. The data was erased out of all the systems connected to Dad's. I could never ascertain why they were after that." He breathed out, his eyes drifting down to his trembling hands. I observed him in silence. The story was incomplete, but pressing him further wouldn't be professional on my side.

"Clemont," I interrupted. The Handler would love to hear about this, but my hands were tied without the Directorate's clearance. "Can I get back to you in an hour?"

The boy sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. The answer came at last. "Yes."

I got to my feet, gathering my belongings. Whatever it was, the downfall of the Kalosian branch was caught up with Operation Hatch, and anything related to Hatch was my headache. Transmission to the Handler was long due.

Chapter Text

Decorating ballroom. Progress: a solid seventy-five percent. The only boxes to be checked out on mine and Serena's lists were to double-check the linen on the punch tables and tie a ribbon around the chairs. "Have you ever consumed liquor?"

I turned at the bizarre question. The answer wouldn't be something a tradition-chasing girl like Serena would like. So, I lied. It didn't come easy, but years of keeping at it did help get it out when I faced away from her. "No. Have you?"

"'Course not!" she exclaimed, playfully shoving me by the shoulder. I flinched, then immediately regretted it. Her eyes had widened in horror. "Oh no, did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, Satoshi-kun!"

Why did she have to care so much about me? Somebody who was... using her to get to her father. Sure, she didn't know that, but it wasn't like I had done anything other than throwing a few playboy-style moves at her.

"Where did that question come from?" I popped out instead. Anything to take my mind away from the undeniable fact that her touch had sent electricity coursing through my veins, before being amplified a thousandfold with her concern. Maybe I really needed a shot of Cabo Poco tequila. The way the booze burned down the drinker's liquor felt better than a long day of surveillance duty. I had only been at that heaven after the Giovanni disaster. Nevertheless, it was an unforgettable experience.

"Punch tables," Serena shrugged, tying a red ribbon around a chair. She cut another long length and draped it over another. "Rumor has it that someone spiked last ball's punches, and three students were intoxicated before it was discovered."

I quirked an eyebrow. The Collegium was known to be reputed and strict in its discipline. No wonder the news hadn't leaked out, even to an espionage organisation like the ISD. Underage drinking could stir quite the cinema in the Cour des Jeunes Dresseurs, or the Court of the Young Trainers.

"Ouch!"

My eyes jerked to her pain—a bleeding cut. Was it a ribbon tear? Instincts took over, unfamiliar fright scratching ravenously at my insides. I shuffled for my handkerchief and used it as a bandage. Years of getting wounded and having nobody to press the wound down taught me one thing—never let even a simple cut go unnoticed.

"Thank you, Satoshi-kun..." she breathed, her flustered voice picking up the pace of my pulse. When I was done, I looked through my fringes. In a hurry to make sure she wasn't harmed, I had failed to keep my true identity. It shouldn't have been a pressing matter, at least not in her eyes, seeing as Satoshi was in love with her. But in the gaze of the Directorate and my own mind, the feeling had conveyed something I had truly come to fear: I had crossed a line.

It was quite difficult to garner a transmission to the ISD rather than receive one. As such, calling the Handler for details on one particularly suspicious operative was proving time-consuming for a thirty-minute lunch break. The laptop gave one loud beep before darkness consumed the screen. Great. Another fifteen minutes.

My miserable eyes stared back through the dull screen. My hair had angled out oddly—fitting for a disguise, not for being AK08—from running a hand through it several times. But the smirk... Regardless of whatever I thought about, my mind circled back to the incident that had transpired just a few minutes ago.

"Don't let me fall." She winked before climbing the ladder up. A few more banners to be draped, and the ballroom was perfect for the fresher's ball. I ran a hand through my hair, watching her stumble a little, then regain her balance. Her eyes narrowed in precision while her hands worked on getting the indentation right. Snap out of it, AK08! She's not your real promised!

If only I could actually convince myself I didn't need her.

Serena dropped off the ladder, skipping two steps and landing in my embrace. For a moment, an unbidden, sensual memory flashed through my mind—her golden hair, sun-kissed blush, and the brush of her lips against my sensitive skin. Her arms squeezed my heart into an unfamiliar rhythm before she stepped away, tucking a few strands of messy hair behind her ears and grinning at the event-in-charge, Aria. Don't stare!

"You both did great!" Aria complimented, clapping her hands. She shot her partner, another senior, Alain, a look and grinned at us. "You both should definitely attend the ball! Not as freshers, but as our special invitees!"

The glimmering eyes Serena flashed at me were dangerous. Like the night we technically met and she offered a treat. Why on Arceus' holy name am I remembering these incidents?! "Shall we, Satoshi-kun? You haven't been around for the fresher's ball. It'll be sooo fun!" she flushed, fists pressed over her chest in a very... feminine way. Don't go there!

I averted my eyes momentarily, just for a breather. Her scent was intoxicating as is, and having her so close felt like I was on the last two seconds of a grenade. Think of excuses! Two options: back out, claiming some illogical illness, or attend and build rapport. The espy mind of mine was leaning towards the former, because knowing the traitorous thing I now housed, it would be hard building a phony rapport. But then those eyes...

"So?" Serena curved forward—some kind of body language that always had my heart racing in foreign feeling... excitement, the Lover's Guide To Romance called it; dangerous feeling, my instincts screamed—arms behind her like they had always been disciplined. Clue: they weren't. The moment she kissed my cheek—even in gratitude—I knew I was done for. That weird flutter of Butterfrees and Beautiflys... They didn't come out of an ordinary rapport-building. But what was I supposed to answer the Directorate, and most especially, the Handler? "Will you go to the ball with me?"

"Yeah... No..." Great. You're not acting like the AK08 you're known for! Snap out of it!

The wild card was pulled out. She licked her lips, a greater shimmer manipulating our eye contact. The scent of lavender now felt overwhelming. Too much. Think, think, think, AK08. How am I...

The thought died out. How is this happening? In all the missions I had been assigned for building a fake friendship, never had I felt so irrevocably... attracted... to someone. My gaze drifted down to the shine on her lips. Inevitably. Involuntary. What was I trying to think about?

"Satoshi-kun."

Oh, I loved the way she called my name.

No, no, no, this doesn't mean anything to you! Hell, it isn't even your real name!

"I..."

But it could be a much-needed leap for building the relationship the Directorate asked for. All I had to do was track my biosync rates and keep her at an arm's distance... and perhaps wear the darkest of shades to shield myself from those damning cerulean eyes...

"I..."

But could I really keep my pulse in check? The Handler was alerted from today's sunrise rendezvous. Could it even be called a romantic flight if I was in a sham romance? Heck, was it even one-sided anymore?

The answer was clear-cut, even if I absolutely refused to see it. Serena hadn't just guilt-tripped me into this abyss. She had taken my hand and taken a leap.

I said it before I could find a couple hundred other ways to think about erasing the lavender from my heart. Her smile was the reason. I couldn't... wipe that off her face, even if I wasn't meant to keep her at it. I had known operatives who had seen the light of attachment before. I'd filed several reports, rummaged through logs of employees with a red 'x'. Punishment... or worse, a sentence to never seeing the world ever again. But now... "Yes."

Whatever followed didn't quite register in my logs. Her squeal, arms around my neck, and the little stumble into the table before her lips met my nose. Probably off the mark, but enough to linger in my brain and give insomnia I never possessed in the entirety of my life.

The encrypted line finally blinked green. The Handler's ever-stoic voice came, unamused. It would take a thousand dossiers to understand her tonal patterns. "Agent AK08."

I leaned close to the screen, even if she couldn't see me. "I request a private meeting with an operative, one Agent Friede, the Paldea Division."

Cold sweat broke when she didn't answer. Pikachu's ears twitched. "The purpose? Agent Friede is a part-timer. His allegiance spreads out to the League, the Research facilities, and the ISD."

The morning's suspicious smuggling at Café Cyclone flashed to my mind. A man and a woman. Two boxes of contraband, and one hidden entity, lurking in the shadows of the café. Serena's confession from the night before about Friede... the expression she wore... Snap out of it! "I suspect proximity to the target."

That made her consider the request—or at least I hoped it did. "I'll have a mail checked to the Paldean branch." Static. "You sound distracted."

I straightened, the muscle memory of feeling Serena in my arms debriefing in a second. I could not afford a spike in my pulse. Not now of all times. "Tired from the prep operations. Nothing more."

Her hum wasn't satisfying, and the sentence that followed almost felt like a foreboding written in red. "Emotions are variables, not assets, Agent AK08. I hope you treat them for what they are."

The line went static before I could bring the topic of Clemont to the table. Pikachu hopped onto my lap, sliding into my palm. "Pika?"

Sometimes, I really envied this guy. Even if going into a battle and electrocuting people sounded harsh, it was way better than tying back something you thought didn't exist in your system: feelings.

Chapter Text

It started out mundane. An errand. A run to the Lumiose market for stationary supplies. I told myself I would be fine. I should have been fine. But the moment Serena volunteered to tag along, my headspace circled back to her lingering warmth, the feel of her lips on my skin. For the life of me, I couldn't shake them out of my system.

"Maybe we should stop by a café after getting the stuff," she suggested. The girl walked with her hands tied behind her back, a twirl in every step she took and a smile growing brighter with the sun. Her Ralts, information unknown, trailed behind her, watching the sun like it owed her something. "Satoshi-kun, do you like chocolate?"

The answer was no. But teenagers and chocolate as antagonists sounded too odd, even in the espionage world. "Of course," I lied. "Don't you?" Whatever my question hit her with, she froze. I had to reach out to her shoulder to keep her off the road.

"I-I do!" There it was again—that weird pitch in her voice that fluttered in my chest long after she had walked away. "Satoshi-kun?"

Forcing my muscles to work, I fell into a step beside her. I had to keep the conversation even if my mind was running out of ideas from keeping itself preoccupied on a matter that wasn't relating to the girl beside me. "Where'd that come from, Serena-san?"

"Just asked." She shrugged, her eyes drifting down to our hands. "May I?"

My heart skipped a traitorous beat. Oh, Handler, please don't be monitoring me right now. "Sure." I didn't reconsider the answer twice. Maybe I should have. Think of it this way, buddy. Building the relationship. Nothing more. Yeah.

But nothing helped when her digits interlocked with mine, giving a gentle nuzzle. I didn't even realise it was possible until she did it, bringing in the warmth I had suddenly begun craving. "Ralts is a newly hatched Pokémon."

My ears perked. Finally, something to distract myself from holding hands. "Oh?"

"One of the eggs Dad was safekeeping hatched when I was home alone. The first person she saw was me." Her smile turned fond, like a warm memory I couldn't place. I could relate to some extent. When I was handed Lucario's egg, the sheer amount of confusion that tugged at my heartstrings was enough to run the entire building without electricity. I had spent every ounce of my energy trying to discipline this hardworking, centred Riolu into the Lucario he now was. "Dad let me keep her, and now she goes everywhere I go."

Serena meant it as something innocent, but the undeniable fact that her father was dealing with illegally traded eggs still made Ralts her unofficial, illicit Pokémon. I couldn't tell her that without giving myself away. Heck, what if she knew about the nature of her father's dealings but played along with it? As far as I knew, Serena was extremely attached to both of her parents. It wouldn't come as a surprise if she indeed had a hand in the job.

"So, Satoshi-kun, have you ever hatched a Pokémon egg?"

I blinked, grounded back to reality when she twisted her fingers, slightly grasping mine—like if she didn't, I would slip away. "I—"

Movement caught the corner of my eye. Everything that transpired was an unprocessed blur. I dropped her hand, ramming forward into something small and trembling. A flash of white and green. The screech of tires against asphalt. Instincts overrode logic, and I was left hugging the tiny body close, my arm thrumming like I had crashed into a wrecking ball. The exhaust and the blaring horn wailed away, and I forced my eyes open. Serena was kneeling beside us before I could catch a breath, her hands trembling.

"Satoshi-kun! Oh my—your arm!"

"It's fine." The lie tore through my throat as a grunt, practiced, just right. I tried to sit up, but my elbow disagreed violently. The girl caught me by the shoulders, steadying the world too late. You've been through worse, AK08...

"Fine?! You're—you’re bleeding!" she exclaimed, rummaging through her bag wildly. Serena wrapped something pink around my elbow, her voice cracking somewhere between outrage and worry. "You could have been—"

"Don't." I smiled, practiced, too tight. "Ralts is okay, and that's what matters."

The tiny creature I had saved clung to her skirt, red eyes glistening in gratitude—or perhaps shock—but the unspoken warmth of being saved lingered in the air. Pokémon empathy, I concluded, smiling at it. They were the only ones who had seen my smile. Pokémon. Scared ones.

Serena's fingers traced my jawline, spotting a bruise I had failed to note. I couldn't blame myself. My senses had numbed already. "You're shaking."

Of course I was. Frighteningly, it wasn't because of the pain rebelling to be treated at this moment. I couldn't tell her that. I couldn't tell myself that. "Serena..." The name lodged itself in my throat. It was the way she looked me over, double-checking places she had already been to. I had seen everything the world offered—anger, rage, frustration, disappointment, even controlled affection. But this? This was different. The kind of care that I wasn't accustomed to. It wasn't an act.

And that was the problem.

"You saved her, you idiot." Her hand lingered at my cheek, caressing something I still couldn't feel. "You could have killed yourself. I just had to return her to her Poké Ball, but you had to go ahead and show your heroism like you did back when we met."

A laugh. I didn't even realise how it escaped my throat, but the minute it did, something heavier seeped in. I couldn't afford this. I couldn't afford her. Yet I had laughed. Even if she hadn't laughed back. Even if her blues glistened with tears unshed. I had laughed. The Handler wouldn't like this. The Directorate would sentence me to hell. My Pokémon would be disappointed.

But for some reason, they paled in comparison to the warmth I had dangerously started getting accustomed to. Maybe I wanted to fall—without worrying about being caught or saved—just to know what it felt like before the ocean consumed me.

The shades in my room shut the sunset out. Silence. A couple of Flying-types drifted by. My haze broke, feeling the weight concentrated on my elbows. For a moment, I saw honey-blonde. Then a pair of watchful eyes from under the chaise. A smirk. The Pokémon gaped, blinking. Then a wave of psychic energy burst forward. Not enough to push through my barriers, but enough to tickle the walls.

It was Serena. She had a washcloth in her hand, but it was soaked in blood. The girl set a glass of water on the nightstand, half empty. I remembered with a flash the painkillers I had been fed. I didn't technically prefer them, seeing as I couldn't condition my body to them, but found myself unable to refuse her concern. After all, I was a normal human being in her eyes, not a hitman with numerous life-endangering victories under his belt. The silhouette of my fake girlfriend lowered, the cloth slipping into the basin with a splash. My breath caught when she leaned lower—lower until her lips made contact with my temple.

"Satoshi-kun!" The visions dissolved with a start, my gaze flitting to the girl, perfectly awake now. Her brows furrowed in concern, and she reached forward to help my elbow against the cushions. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realise when I had fallen asleep."

I nodded, my mind still fixated on the moment the Psychic-type had projected into my mind. Was it possible for a Ralts to do that when I wasn't her trainer? Could it read my mind and the fact that this was...

I cut my thoughts short, struggling to keep my gaze averted from Serena's glimmering blue eyes. Her arms wrapped around my neck, whispered gratitude melting my experience and skill. A place most far from goodbye. I searched outside the dormitory window for some place to bury the warmth she gave. Even after I insisted she leave for home, the hands of the clock looked smug as they ticked. Pikachu didn't look the least disappointed in what I felt. How could I cycle around a single moment? This wasn't how I was built to be. It didn't matter if Serena cared or if she was the meaning of unbelievable affection. Words like tomorrow or future or fate were only a dream for an espy. No matter how far they extended their hands, I couldn't grab on without disappearing. I couldn't undo my duty, but...

Groaning, I rubbed my face. What was happening to me? Tick tock. Cerulean blue eyes. Tick tock. The curve of her lips. Tick tock. Her gentle touch, like I wasn't someone with a diamond's spine.

Why did I yearn to spend this life right here with you, Serena?

Chapter Text

Even if wearing a cravat wasn't new to me, Satoshi Kazehara was supposed to be someone who had never been out to a ball as big as this. Never dressed so formally. Evidently, I had to keep tugging at it until Serena batted my hands away from my own neck.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Satoshi-kun!" she reprimanded in a low voice that would go inaudible to anyone who wasn't standing closer than a few feet to her. Next to me, she looked like a girl out of books I had never read. Someone who commanded the Mega Delphox's fires like they were the colours in her world. Someone who made my heart skip. She wasn't ordinary.

"I can't help it," I lied, eyeing her. Despite wearing heels, she still fell short of reaching my eye level. "I haven't exactly worn traditional Kalosian clothing."

She chuckled behind her gloved hands. Twirling a little, she winked. "You'll have to get used to it if we're graduating. I'm aiming for the Prom Couple."

She imagined that far in the future... with me? I didn't know whether to feel jealous of myself for having this life and not experiencing it the way I wanted to, or to feel absolutely frightened that somewhere in the corners of my mind lurked a mirrored thought.

Snap. Out. Of. It.

But this is your time. Serena looked amazing, but the way her eyes lingered on mine, searching, I knew I was on the edge of the knife. The Directorate is on the ground. What could be the issue if we go up in the clouds? "Would you have this dance with me?" I asked before I could ruin myself with the increased pulse, extending my hand. She actually looked surprised. Her eyes averted to her Delphox, who in turn exchanged a look with my Greninja. If I were to dance with Serena, it meant that her Pokémon should have a partner as well.

"Gren." The ninja frog nodded, arms crossed. His keystone glinted off the warm lights of the ballroom. I'll take care of being here. He meant.

"Thanks, Greninja." Serena's hand slipped into mine, the other cupping the back of my neck. "Demonstrate your footwork, Monsieur Satoshi."

I smirked. Not the best dancer on board the espionage world, but I could surely survive without eating the dust of the freshers.

The music was a faint backdrop when we hit the stage. They said the colours would fade if love blinded your eyes. To me, it felt the contrast. Like the hues were blending in pursuit of something much brighter, much softer. This was forbidden, but regardless of nights of staying awake, trying to cleanse my mind and heart, I just couldn't. All my life, I had never felt warmth like this – a presence that had taken my breath away. I felt like clay before her sculpting hands. The more I wanted to forget the feeling, the harder I wanted it.

So I gave in; at the dawn, her lips caressed my cheek. Protesting felt ordinary, falling felt so out of the ordinary. Like staying drunk till I could barely keep up with the world. Serena's hand squeezed mine, her touch driving the wedge even deeper. I didn't realise squeezing her fingers back would spread a smile so wide, a blush so red, that the Directorate would immediately identify the abrupt hike in my biosync rates.

"Have you ever liked someone?" I croaked. Not a question I had planned, and unplanned things equalled hopelessness. A sign of defeat.

Serena didn't answer. Merely smiled. We broke the waltz so she could have a drink. "Want some?" she offered her cup. My heart skipped a necessary beat. Her cup... Her—

Time quickened. The glass slipped from her grip, barely landing in mine before she slumped forward onto my shoulder. My foot caught on the carpet, and if it weren't for the familiar webbed hands, I might as well have landed on my back. "Serena!" Panic coursed through my veins. Shauna and a teacher whose name I couldn't exactly recollect were at our side at once, helping steady us, but she had blacked out in my arms.

"Let's take her to my dormitory," Shauna worried. I nodded, but before placing the cup down, took a whiff of the drink Serena had consumed. Nothing pungent or violent. A mild gin, probably an Ecruteak blend that was not more than three months aged. Serena probably was extremely delicate to alcohol.

Back in the dimly lit dorms, Shauna left to fetch some towels and a bottle of water. I wanted to tell her that Serena wasn't sick, just high, but couldn't without giving myself away. Satoshi was a teetotaler, and AK08 wasn't supposed to be present in a girl's bedroom regardless of being her fake boyfriend.

I turned to leave, but something—or someone—caught the sleeve of my tuxedo. "Satoshi." My breath hitched. It wasn't even my name, but she had called it so softly that I... couldn't move. "You... asked me if I ever l-liked someoneee."

I blinked, looking over my shoulder. The girl was extremely flushed, her blues half-lidded. Her grip was weak as well, and the warmth she radiated felt unbelievably hot through the fabric. "Y-yeah." My response caught me by surprise. An unintentional stammer. What was happening to me?!

"I... never liked anyoneee as much as I like... you!" Her breath hitched. A hiccup, or maybe half a sob. "I... love you, Satoshi Kazehara."

The world shrank. Visions of a future I would never possess stung my eyes. Why did this happen? How did this happen? This wasn't supposed to...

"Stay with meeee," she slurred again, her head flopping off the pillow. I crossed the distance in two steps and leaned down, adjusting the strap of her dress. She wasn't mine, but I didn't have it in me to leave her like that, a polished and elegant mess. "Stayyy with—"

"Ssh." The room fell silent. My mouth met her sweaty forehead. I shouldn't have done that, but what's the harm if this never made it into the daily logs? It was a bubble just for the two of us. The Directorate was far from what was worrying my mind. Serena had taken up my headspace without paying the rent, and for once in my life, AK08 was glad to have taken up Operation Hatch. "You turned my life upside down, girl."

She chuckled against my whisper, not exactly sober. "Satoooshi."

A wave of calm. I hadn't felt that in days, or maybe months. The last time I did was when the ISD's nurse claimed Lucario was breathing. My fingers squeezed hers on reflex, voice lowering to just her ears. "And you're continuing to do so, Serena."

Chapter Text

An Alakazam had materialized in my dormitory when I returned from Shauna's. This only meant one thing. The Handler was ready to confront Clemont for his story and the past of the Kalos ISD branch.

Fifteen minutes later, I stood with my hands tied behind my back, pretending I hadn't been there for his outburst three days ago.

"Agent Blaziken Mask's sole son." The Handler's gaze was masked, her voice clipped. She was aware of treating rookies and guests. "Your paternity testing aligns with the profile of Blaziken Mask. I want you to reveal his real name."

Clemont didn't blink. I could tell he was just as nervous as I had been when I was first brought here. "Limone Meyer."

A beat. I could feel the tension in the atmosphere before the Handler dropped her clearance. "Proceed to the Director. Three lefts to his cabin. Agent Satoshi, stay back."

The blond nodded and was escorted out by a newcomer. This was it. This moment would tell me if the Handler had recorded the spike in my pulse rates and thought it abnormal.

"Agent AK08." It was bad. The flatness in her voice felt like thunder striking my chest. Don't panic. "I hope you realise the consequences of your actions before it comes to the notice of the Directorate." The glint in her grey eyes—something I had never been on the receiving end of—sent a shiver down my spine. "You of all people must be aware of the dead end lies lead you to."

My throat tightened. Lies. That was my job. But lying to my employer? That was employee embezzlement. Maybe not material theft—the kind which was intangible—but one that significantly impacted the operations of the organisation nonetheless. If I were to continue listening to my reckless heart instead of my calculated brain, there would come a day when I would stand before Serena instead of against her. The ISD absolutely feared that. It couldn't risk the chances. Not just because the truth would fall with my allegiance. No. Not exactly. But rather because I was too worthy an operative for them to sentence death onto. I realised my self-worth.

My eyes fluttered shut, my mind drifting to thoughts of Serena, the warmth just her gaze lit inside my chest. Let this moment be the pivot in my life. Arceus-forsaken moment. Why couldn't I just be a regular teenager? And now Clemont was caught up in this mess too. There was only one way out of this mess. "You want me to detach myself from the collateral."

"Failure would lead to suspension from this operation." The Handler always knew how to pull the strings. She had been doing that ever since the Pallet raids. Hundreds of baby Pokémon, valuable knowledge, and heartwarming allies. I had lost so much to give so much, and to gain something borrowed. What was the point of standing in the middle of a raging circle of fire, calling out for Mama-san, clutching Pikachu to protect his charred skin from burning further, when I couldn't help but scorch myself for the same affection I had once owned?

The answer was clear. Gratitude. You owe someone something—repay it. Until the end of your life. Until your senses mull and you can't lift a pen. I was taught that in my childhood, but to upkeep something… to evade my value system for that one teaching felt like wronging Mama-san's memory. I wouldn't do that. Even if it meant lying. Lying to the Directorate or to Serena, whichever way it went. I was good at lying. Plenty good, I had been told.

And so, for the first time, I decided to value the greater things I was taught in life: love, loyalty, and above all, truth. I would expose Serena's father and make sure she isn't hurt by it. Even if she were involved, I wouldn't let the Interregional Security Directorate accuse her. Not when I was capable of corrupting the data. "Copy that."

I found her in the cafeteria that morning, nestling a paper cup in her hands, mulled in her world. A quiet hello lodged itself in my throat as I approached her. Fortunately for me, she sensed my presence and patted the space beside her. I obliged.

"What's stolen Serena-san's energy?" I asked lightly, nudging her by the elbow. She was still holding the paper cup—coffee, it looked like—like it was her lifeline. "Ser—"

"You ever felt like you like someone so much, but you can't tell them because that goes against everything you've been taught about love?"

The sentence landed. The hand that had willed itself to break out of the Directorate's manacles fell back down on my lap, lifeless. Wherever that came from was an unhealthy source influencing this girl.

"Yes," I breathed, averting my gaze to the barista. The cafeteria wasn't exactly crowded, but it wasn't short on students who lived on caffeine. "Yes, I have." I couldn't lie for the life of me. Not to her. Not when I had promised myself, just minutes ago, that AK08 would have to value his better morality than one commandment set on gravel.

Serena inhaled sharply. "Satoshi-kun, I don't know what I said when I had that spiked punch, but… you don't hate me, do you?"

Mustering the courage to look her in the eye, I gulped. She hadn't said anything of importance. At least, not to AK08. But to Satoshi… to ***, it meant everything. The smile, the flustered whisper, and the determination that masked itself shyly behind those three words—I didn't have to be a top-class espy to realise that we were both far gone.

"I…" I wanted to tell her I would do better. That I was sorry for confessing without feeling anything back then. That I did reciprocate the care she gave and would burn the admin logs of the Directorate to ashes if it meant protecting her. "I would never hate you, Serena-san. I'd rather hate myself than you."

That made her look up. The clear distress in her eyes was reflected tenfold in mine. Her lips quavered before she forcefully took a gulp from her glass. When she had calmed enough to talk again, she placed the cup aside. "I had a boyfriend. Dad's colleague's colleague." My heart gave a jolt. Her father mentioned again. A colleague… perhaps in the egg transit activities. "He wasn't much older. Maybe three years or so. Just like you, he was a mysterious guy. Dazzling purple eyes and a neat haircut." I didn't know why, but the picture of Serena smiling while recollecting someone foreign to me felt like a meal refusing to digest. "I told him too early that I loved him. He found someone better. The colleague's teammate, a pretty girl. I wouldn't tell on her, but I honestly did love him."

Who was this person that Serena loved so deeply before getting cut? Why couldn't she just name him? Was it privacy issues, or did she simply not trust me enough? Oh, wait. She didn't realise that I could find the exact location of this mystery guy should she reveal his identity.

"I don't want to chase you away by making you uncomfortable, Satoshi-kun." The vulnerability in her stance made my chest ache.

"What makes you think you're making me uncomfortable?" I asked before I could turn it over in my mind. I had to know. What if I had fallen short on my act? What if I couldn't reassure her with genuineness now? The Handler's statement from before echoed in my headspace. Lies lead you to a dead end you can't U-turn on.

"Because…" she bit down her lip. The crowd in the cafeteria had turned busy, but their chatter was the last thing in my senses when Serena's confession came out as regret. "We haven't even… kissed yet."

A mixture of guilt and yearning, I supposed, warred inside my chest. I found myself reaching for her, then her jaw, gazing into the depth of those blues—the very shade that had lured me in that night after I acted a hero. Time stilled when I leaned in, my pulse spiking. I didn't really pay it any heed. Not the heat creeping to my cheeks or the hesitation clouding the sane library of my headspace. Inches away, our breaths mingled, and for a moment that I almost bridged the gap between morality and yearning, the Directorate hid behind sun-kissed memories of her—the girl in my arms, who had mercilessly pulled her hand back.

"Satoshi-kun," she whispered, equally breathless. "I-I don't want to rush you. Just because I said that doesn't mean you have to tear yourself apart to… pacify me."

A wave of quietude washed over me, and I settled back against the chair, taking a deep breath. Decisions taken in haste led to catastrophes. The reason why I refused to believe I was falling until I was too far down. Yet, amidst the warmth that lingered sitting beside her was jitteriness. If the Directorate were to find the black sheep, would they go for the kill?

Chapter Text

Time had flown by. The deadline for Operation Hatch had fallen to twenty-seven days. I didn't realise how days had bled into weeks. The workload had significantly felt lighter. Maybe it was because of Serena's steady presence, or the fact that Lucario was feeling better by the day. Her Ralts had evolved into an elegant Kirlia, and had found steadfast friendship with Pikachu.

We found ourselves in my dormitory one evening. Our mega evolution classes were at the end of their culmination, and Serena had proposed playing some multiplayer game online to kill time.

"I didn't know about this game at all," I mused, watching her kill someone and phantom. I had already been killed; not by her, but by her teammate. Honestly, I deserved it with how I could barely operate the game without crashing into the first wall I saw.

"Well, now you know," she grinned, easily murdering another bean-like being. She played evil games. At least, not in real life. Unlike you, buddy.

"It's dark." We continued for another round, where both of us were crewmates.

"How do you even guess them so good?" Serena marvelled, watching as another person I suspected got ejected, proving to be an impostor. "You said you barely knew of its existence!"

Ah... How was I supposed to tell her I just played the guessing games on a much larger scale that had its stakes set high? "Gut feeling, I suppose." She bought the lie. When her phone beeped with low charge, we closed the game and leaned against the mattress. What came as a surprise when Serena entered my room was how she immediately took to the floor instead of the couch, claiming that would be more comfortable. I couldn't agree more, and the shoulder brushes that were happening more often than not while she was engrossed in the game sent something exciting through my brain. New, uncharted, but thrilling. Something I had only been feeling these past weeks with her.

"Satoshi-kun, I was thinking..." I turned to her. She had her head propped on the mattress, her ankles brushing mine. All her poise and elegance had drained the moment we entered this room in solitude, but the serenity she displayed on her face was real. Too real, that it made my chest ache in the best way. Is this how it felt to have someone looking forward to your arrival? Have someone who wanted to spend more time and had a smile playing on their lips every time I was around?

My reverie was broken by my communicator ringing. Incoming transmission from the Handler. Rendezvous point for meeting agent Friede: Café Gallant. I swiped it away, declining her offer. Sure, I had been the one who sought a symposium, but this didn't feel like the time I would be ready.

"Yeah?" I prompted, inclining my head a little closer so our hair brushed. She caught on quickly, her hand finding mine, a small blush creeping to her cheeks.

"Maybe we should have our own mega accessory. Like a ring... or a glove. Your pick."

I thought about it. I already owned a mega glove—leather, packed for action and durability—given by the Directorate. But that was all it was. An empty toy used to save the world, not to keep my fingers feeling comfortable. Lucario was good with his glove, but would Greninja fancy using the same glove as his mentee's? I highly doubted that, given how stoic Greninja always portrayed himself to Lucario. Moreover, it would be impractical to change gloves during a crisis.

"Sounds good to me," I voiced out, watching her from the corner of my gaze. She hummed a soft melody and sat up straighter, detaching hands to rummage through her tote bag. The girl pulled out a box decorated with a ribbon on the top.

"Ta-da!" she exclaimed, rather childishly. Her voice turned shy, the blush deepening. It only made my heart race a little faster. Oh, Handler, I beg mercy. "If you want to, we can... match."

Match accessories? I knew it was a thing. Clemont once mentioned that he and his girlfriend, Korrina, wore matching rings after their first-year anniversary. I had briefly wondered if that would be right, given the nature of our relationship. It had been built on a lie, even if it wasn't sustained by one.

"I'd love that," I answered, watching her crescendo grow happier. She did a little squeal and dug into her box, pulling out a package that contained bits of clothing and a needle box.

"Would you like a mega glove, Satoshi-kun?"

There was no harm in wearing another. One with a more definitive meaning. "Sure."

"I'll make you fingerless ones, just like the ones you wear!" she continued, shifting through more of her trinkets. "Would you like black or white?" It was honestly peaceful seeing her get so pumped up about something so mundane.

"Black."

"Okie dokie!"

"How do you know about sewing, Serena-san?"

The girl dropped her rigorous energy for a split moment, eyes meeting mine. A flicker of reminiscence. "Mom taught me how to do my torn plushies right. Since then, I got into this as a hobby." Serena's attention drifted back to her kit, which was somehow disappointing, but soon enough she reached for my right hand. "You're a lefty, aren't you? That means you'll work better if you wear it on your right."

How did she even notice so much when all I did was analyse her as a subject? This girl was marvellous. Out of the world I came from.

The honey-blonde caught me looking, blushed crimson, and wrapped a black cloth around my palm under the name of taking measurements. "S-stop doing that, Satoshi-kun."

I blinked. The warmth of her work was seeping through my palms in tones that I couldn't help the smirk breaking free. "Doing what?"

"Staring at me like..." Serena paused, biting down her lip. She used a marker to draw a small point, then pouted at me. "Like I'm your world or... um, something."

It was a simple, throwaway statement. Something that was meant to lighten the atmosphere. But it landed right on my chest.

Everything I knew—everything since Pallet—was the fire around me, the will to grow stronger so Pikachu would never have to see another day like that. He was everything I had left in that world before Froakie, Charmander, and Riolu entered my life. Then the Handler, and through her, the Directorate, and several other acquaintances I had only been told to acknowledge, not get attached to. My world had been small. Set with deadlines, transmissions, surveillance duties, staged rebellions, disguise and blend, and the long row of records that spelled the rules in stone.

And now here she was. A variable. A collateral. When all I was supposed to do was understand her, how did I end up wanting her? Want. Something I had been forbidden from. Something I promised myself I would never feel, because when you desire something and fall short of getting it, your hopes crash into the gutter. Better to never keep them instead of raising them with care, only for things to go south. But now I wanted something... someone. All to myself. Her smile, her warmth, mornings with her beside me... a far-fetched future I wasn't permitted access to.

Serena's hands worked deliberately, each sew melting the walls I had been forced to put up. Higher than my own needs, she stitched through them with ease as if they were fabric. I could only watch her, mesmerised. The dim glow of the room's lamp caught her strands in a golden glow—a throwback to the night we met. My pulse spiked with the realisation. I hadn't fallen for her when she cared enough to bandage my wounds with her handkerchief, or when she had brought homemade soup and baked Pikachu poképuffs. That wasn't it.

I had taken the step the moment I realised she wasn't a girl who needed protecting. A girl who would do something over and over again just to prove her point. A girl who wouldn't give up. A girl who had come to mean the world to me.

With the bricks crashing down, I averted my gaze. If I continued looking at her work, I might as well do something I would come to regret. Serena wasn't mine to keep. Yet I couldn't stop wanting her.

Chapter Text

"Jump and Aerial Ace!"

The ninja pokémon leaped up, a five feet over the Mega Abomasnow. His feet glowed white before the ice and grass type was kicked to the bleachers, its phenomenon undone. Greninja and I straightened, smirking. The mega stone – Greninjite – was ours. "The victory goes to register number 09!"

Professor Sycamore walked over, a box in his hand. Two gems glinted off the sunlight, teasing power into its depth. Greninja and I took it after a bow, Sinnohan curtsy. "Satoshi-kun!" I didn't find the time to fully open my arms before my honey-blonde launched herself at my chest. Squeezing my shoulders, she pulled back, a flustered yet proud smile curving her lips. "You did it!"

The wind shifted: Professor Sycamore and our pokémons had left us alone. Leaning closer to her ear, I whispered, "So did you."

A chuckle. The sound was pleasing. She produced the glove she had stitched and took my hand. "May I?" After getting the approval, the black fabric embroidered by a layer of deep red set onto my wrist, the keystone glowing brightly. "This fits just right!"

Serena settled back on her feet, just breathing for a second. I couldn't ascertain what was going on in her mind, but prayed she couldn't either. If she did, a thousand thought processes the Directorate was never meant to learn would be the firsts. "I'm so glad." This was it. The perfect moment to get closer. Both for the mission and for my pacing feelings. I leaned in, guard dropping, vision narrowing to her bright ceruleans.

"A loud round of applause for the four mega evolution experts of this batch!" Professor Sycamore's announcement reminded us that we weren't exactly alone. Sure, I could always go for a public display. Heck, I would have, if only Serena was just any other girl. "You four will get to keep the keystones and the megastones that you have earned. Congratulations!"

That evening found us in the bleachers, watching the juniors practice pokémon riding. It was the equestrian club, Serena had informed. She had been part of it for her freshers, having been insisted by her mother, a Kalos-renowned Rhyhorn Racer. "But it just wasn't my thing," she said, her hands supporting her chin. The new megastone glinted in the evening sun, tinting her hair with a rainbow hue. Her eyes seemed to melt against the horizon, and should I lose another flicker of concentration, my focus would hit the dust soon. "And Mom didn't force me any further. So I dropped out. Don't get me wrong. I love Rhyhorns. I love Skidoo, but tracks, muzzles, saddles... they aren't my piece of cake."

"That's okay." I really couldn't find any other words. Not when wild Butterfrees had somehow invaded my gut. It was a cacophony. "I... never really had anyone tell me what to become." I could feel her gaze sizzle at my side. I didn't mean to create a bubble of sympathy. Heck, I had been given none when all scars were fresh. Why would I chase it now that they were pale and fading?

"Maybe you don't have to pretend you're over it, Satoshi-kun." Her hand came to rest atop mine. No gloves, no distance. Just skin on skin, the warmth almost illusionary. "Trauma never fades. It hides."

That landed like an Iron Tail to the ribs. I balled my fist, averting my gaze from the players to the pokémon, then back to the players and the field. The number of lapses they were on... currently five. That sounded more interesting than getting tangled too much in emotions.

"Sorry."

Pikachu's soft snores filled the air between us. Serena's touch withdrew, and I found myself yearning for it once more. "For what?"

"For crossing a line." Her frown deepened. "I know I shouldn't have the right to talk about your family." Family. That word was so foreign on me. Like a Sinnohan to the Kaloré culture. Two distinct pieces of art. Only, life wasn't a canvas I painted anymore. It was something Arceus doodled on, and everything that seemed to be transpiring was his mood swings and how he managed to add a lot of pain into one man's book.

"I don't blame you," I breathed out finally. AK08 was well over the Pallet riots and everything that had snatched away the coziness of the youth I loved. Why was I even getting upset over it now, of all times? Was it because of Serena's influence? What was I even longing for? Was it just for Serena's presence, or had my heart really said screw it to the Directorate and decided its allies lie in finding comfort and solace over constant work pressure?

"Satoshi-kun." Serena got to her feet, dusted her short skirt, then held her hand out to me, her lips curving upward in a pretty smile. "Do you have plans this Sunday?"

I briefly considered asking the reasons but decided against it. Satoshi shouldn't be suspicious of his girlfriend. If she wanted a date, a date she will get. "Yeah."

Her smile almost lit up the entire stadium. "May I invite you over to my place this weekend?"

"Transmission failed." I groaned in frustration. Why wasn't the Leash getting through to the Headquarters right when you needed it? "Transmission failed." The robotic voice was getting on my nerves. With a flick of my finger, I snapped it off and flopped to the mattress. Pikachu was happily thirsting over the surplus of poképuffs Serena had left him with. While that solved his dinner problem, it didn't solve mine, and boy was I lazy to cook something up. Propping myself up on my arms, I turned to my side. I should have accepted her offer to dine out. If only I had thought of the Directorate later, I would be here with a full stomach and a warmer heart.

What skill did Serena exactly possess to make my heart race faster whenever around her? It wasn't sorcery. It wasn't tricks. So what dice was she rolling?

A resonating knock zapped me back to reality. Clemont was at the other side of the door and made himself comfortable when it clicked lock behind me. "Kazehara-kun, there's something you must know," he started, pushing his glasses up his nose and giving my beeping laptop a weird look. "The Handler integrated me into the Intel division of Kalos. The branch is yet to be reformed, but they haven't repudiated my request to have one in Lumiose, so I'm taking it as a sign."

"Awesome!" I slid into the chaise, shutting down my laptop. Silence blanketed us, thick like the incoming winters. The fan of my device was the only thing keeping the breathing going. "Are you regretting finding out about... the ISD?"

Clemont didn't hesitate in pushing his words. "No, of course not! I've wanted to find those who saw my Dad and my sister to the fires and see them getting engulfed in thunder." His fingers trembled before he clenched his fists, speaking in a low voice. "They're the reason I now live with nothing but my pokémons and the hope of science." This boy was simple. A mirror of ten-year-old me. He burned for revenge; I thirsted for vengeance until I was nothing but charred skin and bones. It was no use. That damned seven-letter word. It only pacified your fury, didn't give you something worth living or smiling for. "Do you regret joining the ISD?"

I smiled. Bitter. That was the only smile AK08 could muster. If only Clemont knew that someday, he'd be in my shoes as well. If only I wasn't bound by the rulebooks to warn him about this. "To regret is futile, Clemont. It leads to no new places. I was given a map. I followed. I am where I am now, and in a week, probably somewhere else, as somebody else, living somebody else's life. I've been doing that for nearly a decade now. You think I'd have gotten used to that."

His face painted him a furious intellect; my gut drew him a tired victim. If not now, someday in the future. Clemont sighed, head dropping to his hands. He stayed silent for a minute longer before those icicle blues narrowed at me. "Serena-san. It's a decoy, isn't it?"

I didn't wish to answer that. Yes would be a lie, but so would no. I wasn't taught to give a paradoxical answer. That just didn't exist in the dictum. But answering positively would keep me in the safe books of the Directorate, while a nuanced negative would not. "Yes." My mind wouldn't stop. Thoughts kept looping in an endless echo – our meeting, the mega evolution accident and how she clung to my back when Charizard showed the wonders of dawn, the kiss thank-you, the ball, her worry when I had called in. The keystone for Greninja glinted mockingly, reminding me of the girl who had stayed up late to stitch a glove for someone who was going to leave her. I tried to shake myself off the warmth, to actually concede with the answer I had provided Clemont, but all my energy was given over it. The noise, the static between us, everything was a backdrop to the smile that lit my insides. The very smile that would end my life.

I wasn't just lying now.

I was living the truth, and the truth was dangerous, elusive. It always had a way of coming out.