Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ The Strength of the Soul ❯ Memory ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: see prologue

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Fire.

Everything's on fire…my God, the entire town's up in flames! I-it's too bright…I can barely even see! God, it's too hot…too hot…

What happened? It can't have been…no, they wouldn't have…h-he wouldn't have let them!

He wouldn't…

Mom, please be okay! God, please be okay!

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Renjiro lowered his gun and silently tucked it back into his waistband, switching on the radio and signaling the League's headquarters.

"Well, Renjiro," a slightly annoyed voice that he instantly recognized as the Leader's crackled over the small speaker, "I hope that in all this time you've been wandering around doing God knows what that you've at least carried out your mission."

"Of course," Renjiro replied nonchalantly. "Delia Ketchum has been killed, as per your orders."

"'As per our orders,' indeed…" The Leader's tone had gained an air of what almost seemed to be amusement. "Well, good work, Agent. We'll expect to see you back at headquarters immediately."

"Actually, sir, I was wondering if I could possibly have the next two weeks off?"

"The next two weeks!? Agent, need I remind you that we are currently at a turning point as far as our grand plans are concerned? Should any rebellion occur, we need every capable agent on-hand. That, unfortunately, includes you, and much as I am loath to admit it, you are at least somewhat of an asset."

Renjiro scowled at the radio, his cheeks burning with an angry blush from the insult. "Look, there's something I have to take care of, okay? I've taken care of everything; don't worry. I'll even wrap up the whole Ketchum assignment before I go."

"We want him alive, Agent; if I find out that you have jeopardized our plans in any way, shape, or form, what I've done to you in the past will be child's play in comparison. Do you understand me?"

"Loud and clear," Renjiro remarked, shutting off the radio and adding, "…you psychotic bastard." Casually tossing the device aside, he inhaled deeply and stared at the woman upon the doorstep, her eyes wide with confusion and shock. He pressed one hand against the bullet now lodged in the doorframe just by her head, smiling faintly. "Mrs. Ketchum?"

"Wh--who are you?" Delia managed to ask as the terror in her eyes slowly began to subside.

Renjiro didn't answer; he simply reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and extracted a plane ticket. "Here's a one-way ticket on the red-eye to Honolulu. One of my associates will escort you to the airport; another will make sure you reach your hotel safely. You really need to get out of the country, Mrs. Ketchum; as long as Ash is a wanted man, you're in danger."

"Ash is wanted?" she repeated incredulously. "But…he's never done anything to anyone! Who could possibly want to do anything to my little boy?"

Renjiro frowned a bit, not entirely comfortable with revealing the truth of the situation to Ash's mother. It was indeed within her rights to know, but he decided that it'd ultimately better to conceal the more ominous details. She might refuse to leave if she knew that Ash was currently being hunted down like a dog, and he couldn't allow any harm to come to this innocent woman. "It's really nothing to be alarmed about, Mrs. Ketchum," he finally said after a few moments of contemplation. "For now, you just need to worry about yourself. Please, there's no time to waste." He grabbed her arm and pulled her over to where the helicopter idled upon the lawn, stopping only to hoist her into the cockpit and signal to the pilot.

"Why are you trying to help me?" Delia managed to yell over the whir of the propellers now beginning to spin.

Renjiro smiled faintly, a hint of some curious pain alighting in his eyes. "Mrs. Ketchum, I despise your son more than anything else on this earth. I've wished him dead for years now, and I've even tried to kill him myself. He's taken everything from me that should have been rightfully mine, and I will never forgive him for that. But still--" He paused and shut his eyes as the image of his mother's tombstone flashed through his mind. "--I would never allow any harm to come to his mother."

His eyes locked onto Delia's for a moment, and it seemed as though they had achieved a true understanding of each other in that simple action that lasted only a few seconds. Delia smiled gently at Renjiro, then turned her attention to the sky as the helicopter flew off towards the horizon.

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And unbeknownst to Renjiro, a small, inconspicuous camera continued to roll from its position tucked safely within the lofty branches of the sturdy oak tree in the front yard.

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The Leader's brow remained furrowed in concentration as he reached over and switched off the surveillance monitor upon which he had just watched Renjiro disobey direct orders and not only fail to kill Ash Ketchum's mother but actually help her escape the country…and the League's jurisdiction. Oh, he'd long suspected that Renjiro's loyalties might indeed be a bit divided, but such blatant disregard for an assignment was almost unheard of, especially in such high-ranking agents.

Renjiro had been official League property since the age of twelve, when his home town had been destroyed and his mother killed in a strike that he had ordered against the sleepy little hamlet. Ever since then, when Renjiro had finally accepted his fate and realized that he would spend the rest of his life working for the League, the boy had been an integral part of the organization, carrying out his missions flawlessly and mercilessly extinguishing every threat to the members of the League without hesitation. He had hunted down Ash Ketchum when they had decided that the time was right to incorporate him into the organization, kept Misty Williams under their control, and helped destroy one of the Opposition's satellite headquarters. All in all, the boy had been instrumental in helping the League incur its current position of incomparable power.

Then again… The Leader's gaze drifted over to the small framed picture upon his desk, a grinning Renjiro flashing the camera the 'V' for victory sign and clutching a plush Charmander at around age eight. It's possible that this has all been a plot from the beginning to allow the boy to work his way through our ranks, gradually earning more and more trust and granting him incredible ease in which he could infiltrate our ranks…

He sighed and ran a hand through his thinning ebony hair streaked with silver. This would definitely cause some problems.

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"…we paid twenty-five bucks a night for this?"

Ash and Misty gazed silently around the dingy, dilapidated hotel room, the faded brown carpet clashing horribly with the badly-peeling pale yellow wallpaper. The sole light in the room emanated from the bulb swinging upon a chain from the ceiling, bathing the room in a dim yellow glow. The double bed was displayed prominently in the center of the room and had a coin box on one side for reasons neither of them particularly wanted to consider.

But then, this was essentially the ideal hiding place for two fugitives from an all-powerful corporation like the League. Ash let out a heavy sigh and set down the large bag of supplies he and Misty had procured at the small town's general store as they finally ended six hours of endless walking. All that they had brought with them as they first set out upon their journey had been abandoned back in the forest when Renjiro had made that first attempt on their lives, and they'd left the Opposition with only a few rations and the clothes that they had issued them. If they were going to be on the run for much longer, they'd have to stock up on necessities.

It was when they were in the store that they had learned of the Opposition's total destruction--and Brock's horrific death. The salesclerk had announced it so breezily, blithely ignoring the shock and horror upon Ash and Misty's faces. It had been some kind of organization making trouble for the League, he'd said simply as he rung up one of the bags of rice. "Served 'em right for going 'round causing trouble for the League. They take care of us in a lot of ways, y'know? Helping the 'conomy and all that."

Even more disturbing was the realization that Brock must have ultimately known that death was only a few moments from arriving upon his doorstep. The sad smile, the painful acceptance of what he could only speculate, the decidedly final tone held within his parting words…he had known that he was going to die, and he still stayed behind. The guilt that Ash had felt as he learned of southern Viridian City's decimation multiplied tenfold as he realized that there must have been hundreds more like Brock within the Opposition, deserters from the League who had no other choice but to join the rebellion, no matter how twisted and heartless its motives, or be hunted down. And in the end, they'd fallen to the League just the same.

The combination of guilt over the deaths of so many innocents coupled with the grim realization that the League could ultimately never be stopped were what caused his current angry and depressed mood. Misty had briefly succeeded in knocking some sense into him back on the forest path, but a few minutes later his thoughts had returned, and so had his foul mood. "This is practically highway robbery," Ash noted with a scowl, gingerly touching the stained bedspread and making a disgusted face. "I bet this place rents by the hour."

"Listen, Ash," Misty said angrily, her patience already past wearing thin, "if you've still got some idiotic delusions that being on the run is going to be some glamorous event, you'd better think again. This place is freakin' Buckingham Palace compared to some of the other places we're going to find ourselves in the coming weeks."

"How would you know?"

Misty sighed and sat down heavily in the rickety chair positioned by the scarred desk against the far wall. "About two years ago, I tried to escape."

"…what?"

She smiled sadly at him, running her fingers along the deep wounds in the desktop. "I knew what the consequences were, but I didn't even care. I swore that I'd rescue you on my way out of the city, but first I had to spend a lot of time in hiding. For about a week, I slept in alleyways, under bridges, you name it. It took me ages to even get from one part of the city to the other, since I could only spend a few minutes at a time out in the open and had to work solely at night. But I finally managed to make it to southern Viridian City."

Ash observed her sadly, knowing that he was once again learning the painful details of her time held under the League's thumb.

"They caught me when I was less than a block away. It was Renjiro that found me, actually; he even seemed like he'd been expecting me. He went through the usual motions of mocking me and telling me that I'd been incredibly stupid to even think that I could escape, but this time he…" She swallowed hard and shut her eyes against the onslaught of mental images. "He…came at me, and he held me at gunpoint while he…ripped my clothes off and…" Misty dug her nails forcefully into the desk. "All he did was tell me how much you hated me…how much you'd despise me for giving in to him, for letting him take me… He said that you'd already taken everything from him, and you couldn't have me, too."

Ash silently moved from his position next to the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, resting his head atop hers.

"I can't even say what he made me do to him…I--I've tried so hard to forget…but when he finally got off, he dragged me to a place just like this and made me do it again…and again…and--" Her voice ended on choked sob as she burrowed her head in Ash's shirt and cried. "It was the first time I'd ever even done anything like that…but I swear that I didn't want to, Ash; I swear!"

Ash cradled her in his arms and wordlessly carried her over to the bed, tucking her beneath the sheets and brushing away her tears with one slightly shaky hand. "Just try to get some sleep," he said softly, taking her hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you ever again."

It simultaneously warmed and broke his heart to see the relief in Misty's eyes as she stared back at him; he was glad that he could bring her back from that plane of sorrow she so often found herself on, but it nearly killed him to see his powerful, feisty, fiery Misty breaking down into sobs at the slightest remembrance of things past. Renjiro had broken her into a million pieces, and it was going to take everything he had just to return her to a semblance of who she had once been.

"Ash?" Misty sat up slightly in the bed and tugged on his hand as he started to move away from the bed. "P-please…don't leave me. Not yet."

Ash smiled weakly and patted her hand. "Don't worry; I'm just going to be over there making an inventory of everything we picked up. I'll be right here in the same room."

"I know it's asking a lot, but would you just…lie here with me? Just until I fall asleep?"

Ash swallowed hard at the simple plea held within her words; she meant it innocently, of course, since she was still suffering such adverse effects from her brutal rapes at the hands of Renjiro, but his libido soared at the thought of lying there with his Misty…just the two of them…alone…in a hotel room…

He shook his head in a vain attempt to stop that line of thought; there would be plenty of time for that once this whole thing was over and Misty had finally begun to recover. If we survive, he added mentally, sighing inwardly. Ash cast a glance towards the supplies, then silently climbed onto the bed and pulled the covers around Misty and himself, wrapping an arm around her torso and spooning against her trembling form. "How's this?"

Misty sighed contentedly and rested her head against his chest, a slight shiver occasionally shooting through her body. "I have to remind myself," she said softly, "that I'm not always going to get hurt if I do something like this. I'm so glad that I got to see you again, Ash; I really am."

"Me too, Mist. Now just rest for a little while; no one will hurt you as long as I'm here."

He smiled tenderly as he realized that she had already fallen asleep.

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"Sir, an investigation into possible treasonous activities? But why?"

The Leader frowned at the intern regarding him curiously from the doorway of his office, a stack of papers now held within his shaky hands. "It is not for you to question," he said dismissively, turning his attention back to the intelligence reports upon his desk painstakingly noting Renjiro's every move over the last twenty-four hours. "Just take those papers down to Jensen in security and have him run a check on them; do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," the young man said quickly, bowing and racing out of the room.

He smirked to himself at the frantic exit the intern had just made; it was so satisfying to see all his underlings so utterly terrified of him that they hastened to carry out his every order, no matter how mundane. That was the true definition of power in his mind.

The printer upon the heavy cherrywood desk spat out another report, a small stack of papers now sitting innocently to his right. The Leader pulled them from the printer without a second glance, then skimmed the words thoughtlessly. However, as they registered in his mind, anger and fear began to coalesce in his mind and course through his veins.

It was all beginning to make sense now--Renjiro's odd behavior, his refusal of orders, his strangely rogue attitude. The League's undisputed power over all was mere days away from occurring, and Renjiro had timed his own miniature uprising perfectly. The only information that had been lacking was what exactly had motivated their most upstanding employee to betray them, and now he understood perfectly.

"So," he began slowly, tossing the paper carelessly aside, "the boy visited his mother's grave last night, did he?" A deep scowl soon etched its way onto his features. "I'm surprised he even knew the way back."

"Sir!"

The Leader's scowl remained in place as he pressed a button upon the speakerphone and in a tight, angry voice, asked, "What is it, Jensen? Do you actually have something new information, or are you once again intent upon proving your uselessness to me?"

"Our surveillance reports that Agent Nanahara has again returned to the ruins of Seijaku Town. Sir, do you know why he may be spending so much time at such an inconsequential place?"

The Leader remained silent for a moment, staring at the blood-red roses floating inside the asymmetrical glass vase upon his desk. He glanced briefly at the picture of a young Renjiro upon his desk, then said, "I have no idea."

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The air was deadly calm as Renjiro walked silently along the cracked sidewalk, weeds sprouting between the cracks and choking the concrete. To both sides of him lay scorched heaps of aluminum and wood--what had long ago been houses. The stench of charred flesh still seemed to hang in the air, but he knew quite well that it was only his mind refusing to allow him release from those hated, unrelenting memories. The landscape had never recovered from it; he noted the scorched, leafless trees and charred-black ground with a heavy sadness. No birds sang, nor did any crickets chirp in the calm night; the land was eerily silent, with not even the whisper of a breeze.

It hadn't always been like this, of course; he could remember when there would have been children laughing and car horns honking and music playing…but that only reminded him of how, in one horrific instant, it had all been wrenched away. Renjiro let out a heavy sigh as he remembered that ten years had passed since that day, when his life as he knew it had ended.

"Renjiro, you bastard."

His blood ran cold as the Leader's unmistakably angry voice sounded from his pocket. Shit, he'd left the radio on. Against his better judgment, he growled and extracted the radio, snarling, "What do you want now!?"

"Just what do you think you're doing in Seijaku Town? You know that that area is strictly forbidden to you. After all, we wouldn't want any…unpleasant memories to surface and haunt our dear, sensitive little Renjiro, now would we?"

Renjiro had begun to shake uncontrollably from rage and hatred, but he still managed to retain his composure enough to growl, "Like you honestly give a fucking damn about what happens to me. You're the one who did this in the first place, just because you wanted to ensure your goddamn position! Was it worth it? Were two thousand lives worth your fucking job?"

He let out an angry sob and threw the radio as far from him as possible, but not before he heard the Leader respond, "They were of no importance."

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Twelve-year-old Renjiro Nanahara coughed violently and fell to his knees against the scorched earth. The overpowering stench of charred flesh drifted through the air as the tremendous blaze continued to consume the small town, great plumes of smoke silently ascending towards the night sky. Flames licked at the young boy's hands as he crawled desperately back towards the remains of his home.

"Mom!" he called in a panicked tone, coughing again as his lungs filled with thick smoke. "Mom, are you okay!?"

She'd been in the garden when it hit. Just moments earlier they'd been carefully tending to the flower beds, a single blood-red rose held daintily in his mother's hands. "See this rose, Renjiro-kun?" she'd said softly, gently touching the wide petals blossomed atop the slender green stem. "It's still blooming, but it's late; it's stayed in the garden for too long." Indeed, the petals had opened much too wide, the breadth nearly twice that of a normal rose in full bloom. "It's…quite beautiful when it's like this…but it only means that it's about to die." She smiled at her son--a strangely sad smile that broke his heart in two--and pressed the flower into his hands, kissing him softly on the cheek. "It's weary; being held within the garden has exposed it to the perils of nature and the severity of life, and now it just wants to be at peace. Protect it, Renjiro, and always think of me when you see it."

Renjiro just stared at her, then observed the rose in his hands with a sort of wonderment. There had been tremendously deep meaning in her words, he was sure…but for the life of him, he couldn't comprehend her message.

His mother finally smiled genuinely after a moment and, casting a wary glance at the sky, said, "I know; how about we play a game of 'Hide and Go Seek'?"

"Aw, Mom, I'm too old for that."

"Just…humor your mother, dear," she said, a tremor creeping into her voice. "You can hide in the forest, and I'll try to find you in a moment."

Renjiro frowned a bit at the strange aura his mother seemed to be projecting but shook off the odd feeling in the back of his mind. If playing such a childish game was what he needed to do to return her to her old cheerful self, then so be it. It could be a lot worse, after all. "Okay; I'm gonna go find a really good hiding place. See ya in a bit, Mom!" He took off running towards the forest.

She watched him go, the smile she had worn now borne of serenity rather than joy. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…"

The whir of a jet's engines sounded in the distance.

"…six…five…four…"

The fighter appeared over the horizon.

"…three…two…"

It dropped its ominous cargo and flew quickly into the distance.

"…one."

The town erupted into flames.

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"Sir, are we all set for Phase Two of the plan?"

The Leader looked up from the document he had been reading, casting an annoyed glance at the speakerphone upon his desk. "What was Phase Two again, Jensen?"

"Hmm…" The sound of papers being shuffled filtered through the speaker. "Ah, yes, here we go--Project Waterflower. It's the one where--"

"I know very well what it is," the Leader snapped. "But no, I think it best to hold off on any further strikes until Renjiro has recovered from this latest lapse in stability."

"…sir?"

"Trust me," he said with a knowing grin, striking a match upon the framed picture's surface and lighting a cigar. "This is one he won't want to miss."

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Renjiro finally abandoned his careful crawl and broke into an all-out run, ignoring the fire grabbing at his clothes. It'd taken forever to escape from the forest, dodging falling trees and fiery foliage, but now he had nearly made it back to the house. Please be okay…God, please be okay…

His breath caught in his throat as his gaze swept across the charred landscape, countless houses being devoured by flames and smoke thick in the air. Renjiro strained his ears in a desperate attempt to catch the sound of a cry from anyone who may have survived, but the land was eerily silent; the only sounds were the crackling flames and the cold breeze drifting through the burning wreckage.

The forest hadn't been as heavily damaged as the rest of the area; it must have hit directly in the center of town. Renjiro felt the bile rise to his throat as he realized that his mother must have known about this all along; that was why she had sent him into the forest. Unbeknownst to him, that was the only place he'd be even remotely safe from the bomb's detonation.

The mansion had nearly been leveled by the explosion, he noted dazedly as he edged past the twisted metal that had once been the front gates. There was no hope for anyone inside, so that must mean…

"Mom!"

Renjiro fell to his knees, completely shell-shocked. There was his mother; she was still by the rose garden…

Well, part of her, anyway.

He couldn't even cry; deep within his mind, he registered the agony, the massacre, the horrific reality of the situation…but for now all he could do was stare at the portion of his mother's body that still remained in the position where he had last seen her smiling visage.

It was nearly dawn when Renjiro heard business-like footsteps sounding along the still-smoldering asphalt that had served as the driveway. He turned his ice-blue eyes away from the scene upon which they had been fixated for hours and felt his blood begin to boil as he saw…HIM standing there, that irrepressibly cocky smirk upon his face. "Y-you didn't…" Renjiro distantly heard himself saying in a shocked voice. "You couldn't have! Oh my God, the League did this, didn't they!? You did this to them!" He angrily pounded his fists into the dirt, the tears that he had managed to stave off now flowing freely as his sobs resounded through the still air.

The man simply shrugged, grabbing Renjiro's hand and pulling him towards the helicopter waiting across the yard. "I'm surprised you're even still alive, Renjiro," he said, staring straight ahead. "That bitch of a mother of yours must have saved you somehow. Always knew she'd end up causing trouble. After all, she's the one who refused to hand you over to us in the first place." He let out a short, humorless laugh. "As if that'd stop us."

"You've slaughtered an entire town! How could you do this!?"

"We needed to retrieve the heir to the League," he informed him simply, lifting the young boy into the helicopter's cockpit and then climbing in himself. "You are aware that I have recently become the official Leader of the League, Renjiro? Well, due to some…unrest within the Council, it was put forth that the Leader must prove to the other members that humanness and empathy do not hinder him or cloud his judgment in any way. I believe that I have effectively removed all doubt from within those dissenters' minds." He signaled the pilot to begin take-off.

Renjiro felt his heart clench painfully in his chest at the realization that his former life had just been wrenched away from him. The League had been aggressively attempting to take him for years now, but his mother had begged, borrowed, and stole in order to keep him safe. It had become progressively harder as he grew older, especially once he turned ten and registered for his Trainer's License. For the past two years, it had been absolute hell for his mother, but he hadn't realized just how close he was to losing everything he held dear to him.

"Renjiro, my boy," the man said in a determined voice, a crazed, dangerous glint in his hard-set eyes, "I've waited two long years for this moment, and now that that miserable bitch is finally dead, it's come to pass. As of this moment, you are official League property. Not only that, but you are the heir to the League should any harm befall me. And one day, Renjiro, you will be crowned an official Pokemon Master and command the highest respect of any within our ranks! Welcome to the beginning of your new life, my son."

Renjiro fought back tears as one hand drifted down to press against his jeans pocket, feeling the indentation of the dying rose tucked within it. And as he mournfully watched the fiery remains of his hometown grow smaller and smaller as the helicopter flew towards the horizon, the innocent Renjiro Nanahara of years past ceased to be.

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The Leader stroked his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the picture on his desk, smirking at the cheerful expression upon the young Renjiro's face. "Well, my boy, it looks like Ash really has achieved everything that should have been yours, hasn't he?" he asked mockingly. "The title of Pokemon Master, the girl of your dreams, a loving mother, the adoration of millions, my respect…everything in this world that meant anything to you now is his to cherish." He silently pressed a button upon the speakerphone and leaned back in his chair.

"Of course, there is a positive side to such a scenario."

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Ash continued to hold Misty tightly in his arms as the news droned on from the small, snowy TV bolted to the wall in the dingy hotel room. The main story was, of course, the complete and utter decimation of southern Viridian City, but there were a few minor news items about a stabbing, an alleged kidnapping, and a fraudulent psychic scamming some local woman out of $40,000. He rarely even watched the news, knowing full well that most of it was engineered by the League to keep the citizens held within a healthy fear, and he only had so much tolerance for the organization's corrupt activities.

Tonight, though, he hoped that he'd at least be able to catch some more information about the destruction of the Opposition, though the news nets would know nothing of the organization's true identity. So far, though, there'd been no mention, which he found strange.

"Mm…"

Ash glanced down at the girl in his arms to see Misty sleepily turning over to face him, a groggy smile illuminating her delicate features. "Hey," she slurred slightly, resting her head against his shoulder and staring up at him.

"Hey, you," he said gently, kissing her forehead. "Did getting some sleep make you feel better?"

"Yeah," Misty replied with a sigh, turning her attention to the TV. "Sometimes my mind just works overtime, and I end up reliving all of those horrible memories." She began placing feather-light kisses upon his chest, absently noting, "I really think being so close to you while I was asleep helped a lot."

Ash smiled warmly at her words, feelingly rather proud at being able to banish Misty's internal demons…at least for a few hours. "We should do it more often."

"Fine by me," she replied, snuggling up against him and sighing contentedly. If she closed her eyes and ignored their decidedly low-class surroundings, the fact that the League could at any moment discover their hiding place and have them gunned down in their sleep, and the inherent threat of Renjiro once again finding them, she could almost pretend like she and Ash were a normal couple, curled up together after a night of tender lovemaking. It was enough to make her girlish fantasies from her youth resurface, and she was once again that skinny, bow-legged girl with a powerful crush on a scruffy, dense young trainer from Pallet Town…if only for a moment.

It was nearly perfect…until the seemingly casual words of the news anchor registered in their minds and seemed to stop their hearts in mid-beat.

"We've just received an interesting brief from our newsroom; it appears that Ash Ketchum, one of the most respected individuals in recent history and the current Pokemon Master, has just found by police to be the culprit in the disastrous Viridian City bombings."

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