When Sakaki arrived in Pewter City it was well past midnight, but the house his parents had commandeered still had its lights on. He groaned internally, and debated whether to wait them out instead of going in and enduring the sneers and insults that were sure to be hurled at him the minute he stepped foot in the house. He ruminated briefly and decided to just get it over with. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and passed in to the entryway.
"Is that you, boy? Where in the stinking gloom did you run off to?" yelled his mother, sitting in the living room, watching what looked like an infomercial channel.
"Probably thought he could run a con all by himself," his father jibed. He was coming out of the kitchen with a six pack of beers. One was already drained and crumpled in his hand.
His mother sniggered. "The last time he did that he got walloped by an oddish. Remember? His face was red for a week!"
Sakaki's parents laughed uproariously for a good two minutes at that. It really wasn't that funny. Sakaki just stood there, waiting for a short lull in the mockery of their only son.
It might have been the late hour, but his opportunity arrived faster than he expected. His mother was still chuckling to herself and wiping away some tears. Better seize the moment before it's gone.
Sakaki stepped in front of the television, intentionally blocking the view and raising the ire of his parents. He swung the heavy, packed bag from his shoulder and slammed it down onto the floor. The force of the impact dislodged a few pokéballs, and they rolled all over. It felt good, an opening salvo in the defence of his con. Yes father, I did it all by myself.
The looks on their faces went from annoyance to curiosity, then as they stared at Sakaki and the bag, incredulous and baffled. Good: Sakaki had gotten their attention. He could see the gears in their heads turning, but as yet unable to come to any sort of conclusion. They seemed transfixed on the sheer number of whatever it was that was in the bag.
Sakaki enjoyed the satisfaction that their dumbfounded expressions brought, but he had to explain before they started talking again. This was his chance: he knew that this would finally impress his parents and that after this he'd be treated as an equal instead of a burden.
"This," he declared, grabbing one from the bag, "is a pokéball. It is cutting-edge technology that can be used to catch pokémon." He sounded almost like those infomercials still running on the television, so he coughed abruptly and pressed the button to expand the ball. Better to show than tell. "I stole about a hundred of them," he finished, releasing its contents.
As the light from the ball reconstructed the pokémon, Sakaki suddenly felt anxious that it would be something common or weak, like a rattata or a caterpie. Something like that would lessen the effect he was going for with this little demonstration. He was relieved when a mankey appeared and his parents emitted short gasps almost in sync. The mankey looked disoriented, and based on past experience Sakaki understood the immediate danger such a fierce pokémon posed, so he returned it to its pokéball before it adjusted to its new surroundings.
"Do that again, boy," his father spluttered. His mother leaned over and picked up another pokéball, and stared at it in wonder.
Sakaki obliged, and released the mankey again. This time, it turned around and peered up at Sakaki, curiosity etched on its face. Sakaki didn't believe for one second that it had been tamed, and put it back in its ball a few moments later. The last thing he needed was a pokémon enacting a bolt for freedom in a confined space.
He studied his parents' reaction, and pure elation rushed through his body as their eyes gleamed and mouths curled up into smiles. They understood the magnitude of what Sakaki had accomplished, he had proven to be more than just a pretty-boy distraction, he had come of age.
Sakaki expected a barrage of questions, so he shrunk the pokéball back into its small form, thus signalling the end of his presentation. He was eager to reveal the details of his most successful scam to date.
"Where did you find all of this?" asked his mother. Sakaki smiled, and was about to answer, but was cut short. "Ah, it doesn't matter, " she said dismissively. "Go to bed, boy. Your father and I will discuss our next move."
What?
"Go to bed," his father repeated, his eyes equal parts cold and greedy.
Sakaki felt a heat welling up within him, but those eyes disrupted what would have been needless petulance. Instead, he wanted to insist on being included in the planning for fencing the stolen pokémon, since he was the one who had actually pilfered them. He wanted to voice his objection, but something stopped him, and a feeling of disgust crept into his thoughts as his parents murmured to each other, their son already forgotten.
Sakaki found the staircase leading up to the bedrooms and climbed up slowly. He walked past the photographs and portraits of the people who actually owned the house and lived in it, and who were most likely away on holiday. They seemed quite happy in those snaps, the mother, father, boy, and little girl. Consummate travellers by the looks of it, Sakaki recognizing many landmarks like Cinnabar Island, Mt. Moon and Resort Gorgeous on the Sevii Islands.
He wished for his own family to be like them, happy and smiling, but it felt like a dream that was becoming less likely day by day. It was always about the next con, the next mark, the job that would set them up for life. This family would never know that his own had invaded their home. It was fairly straightforward for his parents to break in and pretend like they own the place, then disappear without leaving a trace.
The first room on the right appeared to be the son's bedroom. Sakaki entered it, and flopped down onto the bed, exhausted.
He pushed his head into the pillows and let out a scream, muffled and full of frustration. Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought about how his hopes for recognition from his mother and father were dashed. He loved his parents, and their open hostility towards him pierced his heart, leaving a dull ache he wasn't sure would ever go away. His feelings of powerlessness had plagued him for a long time, but he still held a small hope that their attitude would change for the better. If he was being honest though, a creeping resentment was building inside him and he had thought more and more of just running away.
He turned over onto his back, and observed that the room's walls were covered in posters about fossils and space shuttles. They appeared to be from the Pewter Museum of Science, which Sakaki had passed on his way here. He also noticed mobiles hanging from the ceiling. There were many different types and sizes, with the running theme being space and space exploration. The biggest one was of the planets in the solar system, with three or four rocket mobiles artfully inserted into it. The boy who lived here must have built these, and it was quite an impressive display.
There was a switch on the wall just above him, and Sakaki groggily pressed it and switched off the lights. He rested his hand on his head and closed his eyes.
As he drifted off to sleep, Sakaki imagined finding himself inside one of those rockets, blasting off at the speed of light and soaring through the galaxy, away from all of his troubles.
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The next morning, after expertly erasing the evidence of their squatting from the house, Sakaki and his parents set off for Saffron City.
Sakaki had not been to Saffron in many years; the last time was when he was still a baby. With it being the largest city in Kanto, it also had a significant police presence, so his family usually avoided it lest they gain unwanted attention. By going there now, Sakaki mused that whatever plans his parents had for the stolen pokémon outweighed the potential danger of being caught.
It did not change their proclivity for extreme caution, though. Instead of taking the safe, relatively flat path through Mt. Moon, they decided to trek through the grassy mountainside with difficult terrain, the land winding up and down combined with treacherous slopes and jagged rocks.
Sakaki was forced to lug the heavy bag of pokéballs over dangerous ground on his weary back. His mother had said something specious about him being younger and thus the best one for the job. Sakaki tried half-heartedly to share the load with them, but they refused. He expected it and yielded almost immediately, even as his discontent tugged at him.
The wilderness was beautiful. Sakaki distracted himself with the multitude of plants and trees and interestingly-shaped rocks, the sun shining brightly down on it all. The cool wind rolled over the open country, leaving gentle, fleeting undulations on the grass. He spotted a few geodude, pidgey, and butterfree frolicking on the plains.
There was a spearow chasing after a caterpie, which reminded him of his first catch. Seeing that made him feel forlorn, wanting to go back to the trial with Samuel and Elio.
He pulled out a pokéball from the bag and held it in his hand, comforted by the memories it brought. A small part of him quietly began to ruminate on pursuing something other than the crooked dealings he had spent his early youth doing, something more.
As he slid down a slope, Sakaki briefly noticed something pink through the leaves. There was a loud bump behind him, diverting his attention. His father had been less careful, paying no attention to his descent, and fell abruptly on his butt. Sakaki managed to stifle a chuckle, but his little smirk gave him away. His mother saw it even as he turned to hide it.
"What's so funny, boy? I'll knock that arrogant smile off your face, you dirty diglett!"
A wave of fear ran through Sakaki, and shivers went down his spine. The threats his parents made against him were very real, and when such threats came to bear, they often resulted in tears and pain. It was why he tried really hard not to push his luck with them. They both had mean tempers and loose fists. It was safer to keep his head down and mouth shut – even if his tolerance for their cruelty was waning. But really, what could he do about it?
The pink creature was gone, and Sakaki wondered if he had missed his chance at discovering a new pokémon.
As he peered through the leaves, the shape of an old, rustic cabin came into view. It wasn't something he expected to see this deep in the wilderness, nestled in the mountains with a copse of trees surrounding it. He almost wished it was abandoned, because he was certain whoever lived there would not want to become mixed up in his family's business. But his own sense of self-preservation was stronger than saving a random stranger, and he turned back to his parents.
"Looks like there's a cabin up ahead, maybe there's someone who can help," he said, pointing towards the structure.
His father immediately rejected the idea. "No, no. I'm fine, I can walk. We don't need anyone sticking their nose in our business."
With that they continued on, and Sakaki breathed a sigh of relief.
Sakaki's mother fawned over his father for a bit, showing more love and affection in a few minutes than Sakaki had ever received. At this point he didn't feel envious of the attention, focusing instead on the path ahead.
There was a group of bellsprout nearby, gathered around something he could not see. He had always found bellsprout to be weird, their skinny, flexible bodies swaying unnaturally and those beady black eyes making them unreadable. They looked just human enough to be unsettling.
He watched with morbid fascination as they jostled around, revealing what they had converged upon. The group was taking turns to vomit some sort of acid on a dead weedle – they were feeding. Sakaki recoiled internally as they pushed their "feet" into the mush and absorbed the detritus, and then spewed more of the acrid liquid onto the remains. The awful retching sound grated on Sakaki, so he was glad when he walked far enough for them to be out of earshot.
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The sun had roamed up to its highest point in the sky, and Sakaki mopped his brow. His parents had begun complaining about sore feet and tired backs, but he quietly pressed on. In the distance, he perceived the tops of tall buildings, jutting out and shining in the sunlight. Saffron City was within reach.
Within the hour, they would arrive and Sakaki would assuage his grumbling tummy and parched throat. He quickened his pace in his eagerness, already imagining the delicious flavours dancing on his tongue.
At his father's instruction, they marched around the western gate, towards the northern gate instead. Sakaki thought that was more caution than was necessary, but obeyed anyway.
The entrance was smaller and plainer than he had expected. A short queue of people was being processed by a single police officer.
Sakaki panicked. They had no identifying papers, and there was a chance they could be recognised as the criminals they were and arrested on the spot. But it was too late to turn back now, there were other people behind them.
Sakaki wondered why his parents seemed so calm. There was just one group in front of them, a family just like them. It was possible that Sakaki's group could sweet-talk their way through, and he hoped it would work. All they had to do was act normal and innocuous.
His father raised his arm up, signalling someone at the end of the corridor. Sakaki took in a sharp breath, but the police officer did not notice. The person walked over and Sakaki regarded his attire. He was wearing the same uniform.
As he persuaded the actual officer to leave, using light flattery and talking up some ramen place in the city, Sakaki figured it out.
It was really clever, making the switch to an inside man. The police officer had been convinced to treat himself, abandoning both his post and his packed lunch on the counter.
The pseudo-officer waved Sakaki and his parents through, his father acknowledging the man with an imperceptible nod. The man pulled out the packed lunch and brazenly chomped the sandwich, winking at Sakaki as he walked past. It was all so easy in retrospect, and Sakaki resolved to remember this little lesson for the future.
Saffron City was breathtaking. Huge buildings loomed all over, but the sunlight still bathed the city in golden hues.
Within the sprawling metropolis, countless salarymen in business suits scurried through the streets, and busy street vendors hawked their wares. Sakaki stared in awe as courier bikers hauled massive bundles that looked on the edge of toppling over, and yet somehow balanced precariously as they pedalled over the bustling roads. It was a wonder there were no accidents with how industriously everyone was moving.
The flurry of images, the cacophony of sounds, the smells of mouth-watering food all washed over him, and he nearly dropped the bag of pokéballs on the ground.
His parents had left him and were entering through a large, impressive wooden gate supported by thick pillars. There was intricate detail engraved on this gate, and it had a tiled roof with tapered corners.
It was the Saffron City Fighting Dojo. Sakaki walked through, admiring the architecture and sheer craftsmanship that extended beyond the gate to the walls surrounding the courtyard. He could hear different groups of people and pokémon shouting, and it sounded like there was some sort of physical training happening just beyond the walls to his left and right.
But he was falling behind, his parents had already climbed the steps to the front doors of the building. He hurried up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and caught up to them just as the doors were opening. They were welcomed in by two men, each wearing a headband and a gi tied with a black obi.
The main hall was massive. Although the room was minimalistic and austere, there was an air of reverence that Sakaki respected. He bowed whenever a member of the dojo greeted him. His steps echoed across the floorboards, and he suddenly felt self-conscious for being in such a prestigious place. Who were they meeting here that would want stolen pokémon?
"Welcome to the Fighting Dojo," an old man said, as Sakaki's group reached the end of the hall.
He wore the same white gi as the others, but it looked more expensive, and his belt was a brilliant red. He stood rigid and cold, his arms folded in disdain, and his scorn was evident. No, his guests were not welcome at all. Next to him on either side were a hitmonchan and a hitmonlee. They weren't any more welcoming than their master.
"Hey, old man, wouldya loosen up?" said a tall, thin man, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.
Sakaki noticed immediately that this man was different from the ones he'd yet seen in the dojo. For one, he was wearing a button-down shirt with slacks and a jacket. He had slicked-back hair, with an inordinate amount of product. When he spoke, he spoke with a distinct accent; this was not his mother tongue. What was it? Italian?
The old man stared at the Italian but said nothing. His hostile demeanour did not seem to phase him, but everyone else felt the air change around them. The two pokémon exchanged nervous glances.
"Listen, we're business partners, my friend."
The old man bristled at the term, so the Italian changed tack.
"Hey now, I understand you must feel frustrated, iemoto, but this place changed owners months ago. We've graciously allowed you to continue operating, so you need to accept it, or we're gonna have to–"
"Please," the old man pleaded, "my son, he was drunk, he didn't know what he was doing, what he was risking by taking that bet..."
"And we won," the Italian replied. "We have the title deed, we own all of it, it's entirely legal and above board."
The old man's shoulders collapsed, defeated. Sakaki looked on in sympathy, it sounded like a case of bad judgement.
The Italian walked over to a pedestal that was situated behind the old man. On it stood an ornate vase which held a beautiful purple flower. Sakaki watched as he placed a hand behind the vase, and then he heard a click.
Unseen gears turned, revealing a secret staircase. The Italian, along with Sakaki and his parents, descended the stairs, leaving the old man alone in his apathy.
The staircase went down a long way, and the corridor past it went even further. Sakaki mused that they must have travelled nearly to the center of Saffron by now, and his stomach grumbled anew. He really hoped there was food wherever they were going.
The group continued on, the Italian making small talk with both his mother and father. Apparently it had been a long time since they last had dealings with each other.
The passage curved, and Sakaki could make out the sounds of rumbling ahead. As they walked, the sound grew in volume and intensity, culminating in the uproarious whoops and yells of a large group of people. But Sakaki wasn't ready for what came next.
"You're gonna love this," the Italian said, and he swung open a large, wide door.
The first thing to hit Sakaki were the screams and cries of the crowd, which were deafening. Bright lights blinded him for a good few seconds, and then the second thing came into view.
It was an arena, filled to the brim with people cheering on a cage match between a machop and a sandshrew.
The voices of the commentators boomed through oversized speakers hanging from the rafters. Sakaki's head swung in many directions as he took in the atmosphere, following the Italian all the while. It was like there was a city below the city. Compared to the Saffron above ground, this place buzzed with raw excitement and clamorous fanaticism.
Accessing it from a location like the Fighting Dojo seemed both fitting and stark, because even though there was fighting, it was of the unrefined, dirty sort.
"Hey, Vinnie, look who we have here!" the Italian yelled, over the crowd.
Vinnie was seated at a large table, counting money. The table sagged under weighty stacks of bills, open for everyone to see. Sakaki had not seen that much currency in his entire life.
A few more Italians were working behind him, preparing bags of money to be transported elsewhere. They were all wearing plain t-shirts and overalls, steel toe boots and flat hats. The entire operation ran like clockwork.
Sakaki's parents' eyes were the size of saucers, they were positively salivating at the prospect of gaining just one of those bags.
"Well if it ain't Reggie and Lydia, as I live and breathe," said Vinnie. "We ain't seen you round these parts in years! Whatcha got there for me?"
"Vinnie, buddy, do I have something for you!" Sakaki's father replied. "Put the bag down, boy!"
Sakaki's mother pulled it off him roughly and picked out a pokéball. She held it in her hand like one of those women on the infomercial channel, posing in a way she thought would make it look attractive.
Sakaki had seen this many times before. This was their act, well-worn and dubious in effectiveness. Though, based on Vinnie's expression, it seemed to be working.
"This here is what's known as a 'pokéball'. It's brand new tech, nobody has this! And you know, Vinnie, when I got this you were the first and only guy that came to my mind. This is an exclusive deal just for you!"
Sakaki's dad was laying it on a little thick, but Vinnie was lapping it up and his parents could barely hide their excitement.
"Now watch this," his father continued.
His mother expanded the ball, and Vinnie leaned forward in his chair, rapt.
"This little device can hold pokémon! It's a game changer, Vinnie! But that isn't even the best part, we got over a hundred of them here. A few of them could join your private fight club, easy."
Sakaki's mother released the pokémon, and a mankey materialized in front of them. Vinnie gasped audibly, and a few of the other Italians stopped what they were doing to stare.
Sakaki's mother lobbed the ball over to his father, who caught it with a flourish.
"You never have to worry about storage again, my friend." He returned the pokémon in a sky blue beam of light, and Vinnie stood up in shock. "It's all yours, Vinnie!"
Sakaki's father threw the pokéball over and Vinnie caught it. He stared at it, mesmerized.
Sakaki's parents waited, but it was clear they had nailed their pitch. Sakaki felt an odd mix of pride and consternation. He did play a part in all this, and surely deserved at least a mention. This was The Job, the one that would set them up for life, and it was all thanks to him.
Vinnie looked at Sakaki's mother, then his father, then at him, briefly, before going back to his father.
"How much?" he said, signalling his workers to claim the bag of pokéballs. They cleared one of the tables and started lining the balls up, counting as they went.
Sakaki's parents smiled greedily. They would charge per pokéball, but add fees like transportation to inflate the final price. Vinnie had deep pockets, and he had been won over, so they were definitely going to take advantage.
Sakaki's father kicked it off. "Something like this, people would pay top dollar, I'm sure you'd agree. Since it's you, Vinnie, y'know, we got history. Since it's you, we'll make it ten K per ball, yeah?"
"Which is more than reasonable," his mother offered.
"More than reasonable," his father repeated. Of course, they had discussed this long before arriving, so this "negotiation" was just another part of the show.
Vinnie weighed the price in his head. "How many we got?" he snapped, looking at the table with the pokéballs.
The first Italian, the one who they had met at the Fighting Dojo, called out the tally. "Includin' the one in your hand, ninety-five."
"Ninety-six," a voice corrected.
Vinnie and the others stood frozen, recognizing it. An entourage had arrived, eight men in black suits surrounding a young woman. At first, Sakaki's view was blocked by one of the guards, but when she stepped forward, he recognised her immediately. And she recognised him.
It was the girl from the pokéball trial. The one that had berated the supervisor and whose stare, while fleeting, had made a lasting impression on him. She cast her gaze on him now, pointing directly at him.
"Ninety-six," she intoned again.
Sakaki was so surprised that it took a few long seconds for him to understand. He had taken out a pokéball at the start of the trip and had been holding it in his hand ever since. It had escaped his mind completely. He surrendered it to the Italian and stared at the girl. What was she doing here?
"M-M-Miss Potenza, what a unexpected pleasure," Vinnie stammered. "If I had known youse grace us with yer presence, I woulda closed the arena and–"
"Ever the eloquent one, cousin Vincent," the woman interrupted, pointedly ignoring the man and inspecting the tables of money instead. "I've not come to see you, actually," she continued, as she walked around the area.
She studied Sakaki's parents, who looked absolutely mortified having been caught in the middle of a con. After she looked at Sakaki, she pursed her lips, thinking.
"Yes, ma'am," Vinnie fumbled. He felt the need to fill the ensuing silence.
The woman stopped at the table of pokéballs, and turned to address Vinnie directly. "These are mine," she declared.
"Yes ma'am, of course ma'am."
"I want to clarify a few things. These 'pokéballs' are mine, but they were... misplaced last night. Fortunately, this young man found them," she indicated Sakaki, "but these two peddlers decided not only to take the credit, but also to try to pull one over on us." The woman stared at Sakaki's parents, who both shifted uncomfortably. They had been caught, and it was over.
The woman pursed her lips again. "I will allow you to conduct this business deal on my behalf," she decided, and Vinnie perked up. Maybe it wasn't over.
The woman and Vinnie stood on one side, and Sakaki's group stood across from them. His parents were not sure what to do, this had never happened before. They were intimidated, all three of them. Their certain victory had suddenly evaporated, and they had been given another chance, but they were almost petrified by this turn of events. They didn't know exactly who this Miss Potenza was, but she clearly held significant power.
"What is the asking price?" the woman asked.
"Ten thousand each," Vinnie promptly replied.
"Huh," the woman said. Sakaki wasn't certain, but from her tone it sounded to him like she thought that was undervaluing the product. He kept quiet, still very much cowed by her presence.
The woman and Vinnie turned around, so that their backs were facing Sakaki's group. They were conferring, and Sakaki couldn't hear a thing. They didn't take long though, and turned back around less than thirty seconds later.
"Ten K per ball," Vinnie offered, looking directly at Sakaki's father. His father seemed to gain some courage from the cue.
"Yes."
"Throw in the boy and we have a deal."
What?
Even his parents were not sure if they heard right. Vinnie confirmed it, and the woman simply looked on, almost disinterested.
This time, it was his parents' turn to confer. Sakaki stood there, speechless. That they were even considering this was shocking. He tried to speak up but his voice came out raspy, and his mother forced his mouth shut with her overwhelming and threatening whispers.
Nothing that he had done had made any sort of impact on them. Stealing those pokéballs was a monumental mistake, and he was helpless.
The next few moments were surreal. Sakaki fought back the tears as his parents agreed to the terms, they gleefully accepted a fat bag of cash, and they simply left him there without a single word.
And that was that.