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“They’re leaving, boss. Right. Now.”
Corbeau didn’t fully register the words at first, only the urgency in Philippe’s voice, before instinct hurled him out of his chair.
He nearly tripped over the mess of papers at his feet, but none of it mattered. Not compared to this.
What stung wasn’t the lack of ceremony, it was the disrespect.
Or at least, that’s what he tried to convince himself.
The nerve of you, waltzing into Lumiose as some wide-eyed tourist, nearly getting yourself killed every other week battling alphas, powering through the battle zones just to gather those damn challenger tickets, helping the cityfolk just because the private investigator (Emma, was it?) said so.
And somehow, you saved the entire city in the process like it was nothing.
And now you’re slipping out without so much as a word? Not even a note. Not even a simple goodbye.
Corbeau shoved open the Rust Syndicate’s doors harder than necessary, the grunts cower at the sight of his jaw clench. This wasn’t him ‘chasing after you.’ No, no, no! This was about common decency. Making sure you didn’t pull something reckless like vanishing forever.
But even he couldn’t lie to himself enough to ignore the knot in his throat. Because if that train left with you on it, if he let you slip away without a fight.
He didn’t know who would deserve the blame more: you, for slipping away.
Or himself, for becoming a pathetic and hopeless man whenever you smiled at him like he had given you the world.
Arceus, please...
He really would, he’d give you anything and everything.
You fought for this city with a fierceness that left him breathless, met danger with a resolve that made him wonder how someone like you ever ended up here at all. Someone capable and brave, someone he had somehow grown to rely on.
To look for.
To want.
So why? Why run from Lumiose now? Why leave the city that adored you? Why walk away from everything you built here?
Why walk away from…
But even as the questions tore through him, memories blinked through his spectacled eyes with every step he took. Quiet things, stupid things, things he had no business holding onto as tightly as he did.
He remembered how your eyes lit up at the smallest corners of Lumiose, how you treated back-alley cafes and rumbles of Trubbish like they were hidden treasures meant just for you. How you’d tug him along to see some street performer with a rare Mr. Mime, which you claimed was 'once-in-a-lifetime.'
And the rooftop, oh damned it all, the rooftop.
The late nights when the city wouldn’t sleep and neither would you, when you somehow convinced him to hang out at Hotel Z’s rooftop just to feel the wind. You’d sit too close without realizing it, legs nudging him, pointing out which sector’s lights looked prettiest that night.
He usually just nodded along and relished your sweet voice, but every single time, he found himself stealing glances at you instead of the skyline.
Corbeau longed to close the distance between the two of you even further, take the leap of faith.
But he didn’t.
That night haunted him as he tore through Vernal Avenue at a near sprint, dodging a pair of Furfrou strutting proudly beside their groomer, the morning crowd spilling out of the cafés and filling the air with the smell of fresh coffee and buttered pastries.
Lumiose spilled around him, people and Pokémon moving like rivers in every direction, the city alive and indifferent, and he pushed forward but its vibrance only made your absence cut deeper.
Every street he passed tugged up another round of thoughts of you he didn’t have time for, yet they came anyway, flooding him from all sides, along with the panic and anxiety gnawing at the back of his neck.
You laughing under the lush greenery of the Prism Tower’s ruins. You leaning back on your palms, hair catching the breeze. You talking to him like he wasn’t the feared head of the Rust Syndicate but someone worth trusting.
Like someone worth staying beside.
Those were the moments that ruined him. The moments that made him fall long before he ever understood he was falling at all. Moments that made the idea of you leaving feel less like a choice and more like a punch straight through the ribs.
So he pushed harder, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, dress shoes striking the pavement in a rhythm that barely kept up with his pulse.
Through South Boulevard’s morning haze, past the fountains glittering with early light, weaving between city folks and their Pokémon as they moved in easy harmony through the city you’d both fought for.
And when the stone arches of Gare de Lumiose finally rose ahead, his breath stuttered. He pushed through the entrance just as the station’s chimes rang out.
The train was ready to depart in a couple of minutes.
Soft light pooled across the platform, the sun’s rays catching on metal and glass until everything shimmered. The brightness blurred the edges of the station until it didn’t. Until it revealed you.
Standing still.
Just by the open doors.
And everything in him. The panic, fury, confusion; all collapsed into a single, brutal truth.
You were choosing a path that didn’t lead back to Lumiose. Maybe forever.
And yet all he saw was what he had always seen: unmistakable, brilliant. A force he’d never stood a chance against.
“I won’t allow it.”
Your head snapped toward him instantly, and for a heartbeat Corbeau almost faltered. Not from the run, not from the ache in his chest, but from the way you recognized his voice so fast it almost hurt.
Your fingers tightened around the strap of your worn brown bag, knuckles whitening as your eyes widened at the sight of him: disheveled, breathless, wounded in a way he couldn’t hide anymore.
“Unless you give me a solid reason,” he said with finality, “Why you’re abandoning everything you’ve bled for in Lumiose.”
People were staring now.
Passengers and tourists pausing mid-step, Pokémon tilting their heads, hushed murmurs rippling through the platform. But Corbeau didn’t care. His gaze was locked on you and you alone, the rest of the world fading into meaningless haze as he approached you.
Yet when he finally stood within arm’s reach, close enough to catch the shakiness in your breath, close enough for the morning light to highlight your features, his resolve cracked.
“And why you’re running off without saying a damn thing,” He clicked his tongue, pushing his glasses, “It pisses me off just trying to understand it.”
His hands hovered uselessly in the air, tempting to pull you back, to stop you, to hold––
“I refuse to let you get on that train.”
Despite his threat, he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Couldn’t drag you away from the train’s doors like you were some criminal instead of the very person he’d spent months orbiting around.
“‘Beau, I’ve… I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair to you.” His breath stuttered when your voice broke. You weren’t crying. Thank Arceus, you weren’t crying, he would never forgive himself if he was ever the cause. But you looked uncertain. Hesitant.
And somehow that was worse.
It meant you could, you would, leave without a reason he could hold onto.
“I was never supposed to stay. You knew that.” You offered him a smile, but it wasn’t the one he’d memorized in those moments you’ve spent together. This one faltered at the edges. It was thin, pained, and fragile.
“I’m grateful for what I’ve done here. For what Lumiose gave me. For the people I met. I don’t know, I was scared and I figured I’m not needed here anymore.”
You took a deep breath, glancing at the open doors beside you.
“I’ve seen everything there is to see, done everything there is to do. For Lumiose.” Your gaze dropped, and he felt something in him crack. “But there’s… just no reason to stay.”
“That’s what this is all about? You’re bored?” Corbeau scoffed, too sharp, too fast. But you saw right through it, the flash in his golden eyes betraying him, “I can find you something new. I’ve got jobs lined up that would take a whole division of my best grunts decades. I’ll ask Philippe to support you, yeah. Hell, he’ll stay glued to your side if that’s what it takes to keep you safe–”
“I don’t need work, Corbeau.” Your voice didn’t waver, but something in it hurt far worse than anger ever could.
“Battle me then!” His brows furrow, gaze even more intense, as reached for the next best excuse before the silence could settle, “Stay until I can beat you. It doesn’t have to be one of those tacky, overdone tournaments that elitist woman insists on hosting. Unless you want something like that? Fine. I’ll pull strings. I’ll get you a venue, a crowd, a title, whatever you need, just....”
His words died when he finally noticed. The shock hit him hard. Your bag abandoned on the platform ground, both of your hands wrapped around his, grounding him and unraveling him all at once. For a fraction of a second, the world narrowed to your warm palms, the pressure of your fingers threading through his.
None of it would make you stay. None of it would have mattered.
He couldn’t understand it. He was the Corbeau, leader of the Rust Syndicate. People followed, obeyed, bent, or broke. A simple ‘no’ was almost nonexistent. And yet here you were, holding his hand, and still not agreeing. Still not staying.
As you held him so gently, he forced himself to tell himself it was nothing. You were just… being you. Laying him down easy, making sure he didn’t humiliate himself further.
That had to be it.
Because that's who you were; so compassionate, so grounded, so impossibly kind. He once genuinely believed it was all an act, especially back then when he’d watched you fulfill favors to settle your friend’s debt.
And all the while, there was that ache again, his mind short-circuiting, his eyes piercing into your gaze, desperate for an explanation why the rules he lived by didn’t apply to you.
“The city needs someone like you.” Corbeau’s voice was quiet, almost pleading, as his fingers tightened around yours. “Lumiose isn’t just a place. It’s.. it’s alive because of you. Because of everything you’ve done. For it. For us.”
He straightens himself, the metallic hum of the train beneath the platform a relentless reminder of time slipping away. The doors hissed, a heartbeat from departure. His golden eyes flicked to the doors, then back to you, frantic.
“And I can make it worth your while, please believe me when I say I can make it worth your while..” He faltered mid-sentence, the words tasting hollow even to him as he finally sees you frown. Your hands loosen in his grip.
You knew he wasn’t talking about Lumiose, didn’t you?
Corbeau drew in a deep breath, fists clenching like if you slipped away the world would end, every nerve in his body burning with fear, longing, and an impossible mix of hope and desperation.
“You don’t need a reason to stay in the city. You don’t need a reason at all.” He stepped closer, ignoring the train’s warning hiss, ignoring the curious eyes of the passengers. “I just need you here.”
“With me.”
The words hung in the air, stripped bare of offers or plans, no veils, no excuses.
Desperate.
Vulnerable.
Real.
And then, he leaned forward, forehead brushing yours, his free hand brushing the side of your face. Everything else, faded and insignificant.
He had thrown himself into the unknown.
He’d finally leapt.