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Lumiose City was… interesting.
N couldn’t decide how the wild zones made him feel. As he stumbled through the crowds, he debated within himself if they were a valuable way to integrate pokemon into city life or just another way humans caged pokemon they didn’t want to deal with. He checked his map. Was that Wild Zone 2 or Wild Zone 3? It was difficult to tell from the street. The sign had faded into incomprehensible squiggles.
More than anything, N wished he could have Zorua by his side. The presence of one of his beloved pokemon would balance the unease of being surrounded by people. (He hated to say that his aversion to populous areas was one part of his upbringing he couldn’t shake. He knew people could be very kind, but so many of them in place made him… nervous.) But Zorua was a prankster and would almost certainly try to run around and cause mischief. And his other pokemon were too big for crowds like these.
N lurched forward as he felt a child grab his hair and pull.
An apologetic mother ran forward, mumbled a quick apology, and disappeared into the crowd again.
He tugged his ponytail over his shoulder. The sun beating down on the streets only made him feel more irritable. It seemed this shopping district didn’t value having shade, and the heat only flared as noon approached.
Carefully maneuvering himself through the crowd, N slowly but surely moved towards a shaded alley. Once he was there, he could cool off, check his map again, and maybe spend some time with Zorua.
The alley offered immediate relief. The crowd felt far away in this quiet, dark space. N leaned against a cool stone wall and sat down. Zorua let herself out of her PokeBall in a flash. (He really needed to figure out how to get her to stop doing that - what if she got hurt from doing it at the wrong time?) He didn’t even open his eyes; the relief was too tangible to give it up when he knew it was her. She seemed to sense his stress and nuzzled into his side without a word. His hand mindlessly began to run through her fur.
A deep sigh forced its way out. He hated this discomfort, this nervousness around people. Father would both encourage and despise him for it, and he hated that part of him still cared about his opinion.
Zorua nudged his hand. He scritched behind her ears. She nudged his hand again. He stroked her fur. She nudged his hand once more, making soft squeaking noises. That… wasn’t right.
His eyes flew open as the almost silent tap-tap-tap of shoes approached. Just quiet enough that whoever it was didn’t want to be heard.
“Who’s there?” He demanded, standing up as Zorua began to growl. His eyes followed hers to see a group of four men in crisp red suits. “What do you want?”
The one who seemed to be the leader cracked his knuckles, revealing a shiny golden watch on his wrist. His smirk was followed by three matching ones.
“We’re some, eh, collectors, who want to make the world a better place. We saw you and your Zorua here and thought, hey, Zorua is pretty rare in these parts. It would make a fine piece in our collection, if you would be so kind as to part with it.”
N felt like throwing up. Fury burned in his veins like a Blue Flare. Zorua’s fur stood straight up as she hissed, before disappearing behind his legs. He stepped forward, attempting to block her further.
“How dare you speak of my friend that way? She is not an object to be passed around and collected. She is a living, breathing pokemon deserving of respect like you and I. She does not want to join your collection. Leave and reconsider your view of the world.”
The rest of the gang moved forward, hands reaching for PokeBalls on their belts.
“Well, that’s unfortunate, because we aren’t in the business of taking no for an answer.”
N considered his options. Back in Unova, he could have been Champion, and he knew that meant he was powerful by any region’s standards. His team could likely take on the collectors if there were two of them, three maybe. But it was four trainers, each of whom had six PokeBalls on their belts. N’s team was strong, but he didn’t like his odds.
The only other choice was to run. But running almost guaranteed a commotion and didn’t guarantee the safety of him or his pokemon. If their pokemon were fast, they could catch him before he escaped the alley. He wouldn’t be surprised if the thieves attempted to take his other friends as part of their sick collection. He didn’t want them to get hurt, but… His best chance was to fight.
As his hand reached for his own PokeBalls, the loud sound of clacking footsteps sounded behind him. They came slowly, as though the person they belonged to was taking a casual stroll, even when they clearly had to see what was happening. In front of him, the faces of the “collectors” turned white. N didn’t pay them any mind. If whoever it was scared them, they were likely an ally to him.
“Now now, that’s not a proper Lumiose City welcome. You boys are ruining our city’s image by behaving like a bunch of ruffians. I’m going to have to ask you to apologize.”
The men all stumbled over unintelligible apologies, taking shaky steps back as the voice continued.
“Come on, gentleman, which, mind you, is a term I’m using loosely. Don’t you want this nice young man to offer the hand of forgiveness?” A soft tsk-tsk-tsk. “You can’t expect him to do everything, you know? So come on, just apologize, and no one needs to get hurt.”
The leader squeaked out what could have been “sorry” before the men started to run. N turned to face his benefactor just in time for a Scolipede to shove him out of the way.
“Now boys, that’s not very nice, is it? Gyarados, why don’t you teach them a lesson.”
It wasn’t a question. With a loud roar, N felt a blast of water rush by him. Either a very strong Water Pulse or Hydro Pump. Not something he wanted to be hit with, either way. Maybe this benefactor wasn’t as good as he had hoped.
The alley filled with water and the sound of cut off yelps before the water slowly began to drain away. As it did, N took in the sight of the man in front of him.
At first glance, the clean cut suit seemed formal and almost plain but further inspection revealed that was not the case. The edges had fabric that imitated the dripping of poison or venom. A similar pattern flooded off of his glasses. The eyes behind the frames were hard and calculating, staring at the ebbing water with obvious contempt. For a moment, N just stared as the Gyarados was returned to its PokeBall. Then the man turned to face him.
Scolipede remained next to him. Zorua growled, fluffing up her fur and running to stand between N and the massive Bug-type. Eyes softening ever so slightly, the man’s lips turned up into an approximation of a smile.
“Apologies for the welcoming committee. I try to keep swindlers and other such people out of Lumiose, but there’s only so much the Rust Syndicate can do.” He reached out his hand to N, moving to stand next to Scolipede and completely ignoring Zorua. “I know this city pretty well, so I’m confident you’re a newcomer, yes? My name is Corbeau.”
N carefully reached out to take the proffered hand.
“Thank you. I am glad to have avoided a battle. My name is N, and this is Zorua.”
Corbeau offered a small wave to the pokemon. Zorua relaxed somewhat but remained between the two trainers.
“Yes, yes. It’s not ideal to go on vacation and have to fight other people’s battles.” Despite the gruffness of the words, Corbeau seemed genuine. “How about I take you where you need to go? I could navigate the streets of Lumiose with my eyes closed.”
“That’s very kind of you, but-”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I think it’s only fair that I show you some hospitality. You came all the way from Unova, after all.”
“How did you-”
Corbeau waved his hand dismissively and began to walk forward, moving away from N.
“Accent. It’s easy enough to tell.” Corbeau turned and looked back at N, his face impassive. “Really, I’d appreciate it if I could at least guide you to your next location. It’ll be a load off my mind to know that you’re not trapped in another alley surrounded by pokemon thieves.”
N sighed, picking up Zorua and moving to stand next to Corbeau. Corbeau seemed trustworthy enough, and he didn’t want to risk an unnecessary fight with more pokemon thieves. Not only would it put his friends in danger, it would draw attention to him when he was already trying to stay out of the spotlight. N pulled out his map and pointed to the cafe he was hoping to visit.
“Great choice! Always happy to see tourists trying out the local flair. Let us be on our way then.”
Despite having the affect of a gracious host guiding someone to dinner, Corbeau began to walk forward and didn’t speak again. He walked confidently into the crowd of people bustling just outside of the alley. Except, where they had paid no mind to N as he stumbled in their midst, they seemed to avoid Corbeau.
N blinked, hurrying to move next to Corbeau. The avoidance became even more obvious when they walked together. The people around them parted like…
N felt his blood run cold.
They parted like Team Plasma had when he was their king. In many of the people’s eyes, he saw fear right before they averted their gazes. Had he left Unova only to associate himself once again with another wayward criminal?
He took a deep breath, allowing himself to consider the situation he found himself in. Thus far, he knew Corbeau was a powerful trainer and that the people of Lumiose City feared (or maybe respected?) him. He couldn’t jump to conclusions. He needed to ask questions. And he knew just where to start.
“You mentioned the Rust Syndicate earlier… What is that?”
Corbeau’s head tilted, eyes locked onto N’s as though he was staring into his soul. After a moment, he smiled.
“Right, you’re not from around here - you wouldn’t know. The Rust Syndicate is a local organization that works to serve the people of Lumiose City. It’s somewhat controversial, I fear, but rumor has it that the leader is quite the imposing figure. A powerful Poison-type specialist who took the position of leader through battle. Don’t fret, though! Ultimately, I’m under the impression that everything he and the organization do is done to help people. Even if it does take a bit of force.”
N frowned, opening his mouth to object to the last statement- (What type of charitable organization used force to “help” people?)
“Ah, before you voice your distaste, I would like to warn you,” Corbeau turned so N could see the large smirk that now filled his face. “I happen to be the leader of the Rust Syndicate, and it tends to hurt my feelings when people insult my hard work. With that in mind, would you like to continue?”
N hadn’t gotten this far by being afraid of fighting back. (He wouldn’t be that scared child anymore.)
“Yes, I would. What do you mean by it taking ‘a little bit of force’? What kind of organization is the Rust Syndicate that it claims to help some people while hurting others?”
“Simple. Many people in Lumiose City are down on their luck. They just need some encouragement or, in some cases, a loan to get back on their feet. We’ll happily provide them the assistance they need. For a price, of course. The Rust Syndicate is a business, after all. And sometimes there are troublemakers, like those gentlemen back there.” Corbeau’s smirk grew wicked. The crowd parted even further. “Sometimes we take care of them as well. Anything to keep Lumiose City running smoothly and beautifully.”
N’s nerves easily melted away into a cold fury. (Anything, huh.)
“You’ll do anything to keep the city running smoothly. Isn’t anything too much to ensure that a city goes about its business smoothly? Don’t you trust the government and other organizations to step in as needed?”
Corbeau shrugged.
“Sometimes they need a slight push in the right direction. The Rust Syndicate primarily works on a person to person basis and generally behind the scenes. We take care of what other organizations can’t or don’t know how to control.”
“So you’re trying to control Lumiose?”
Corbeau barely turned his head to look at N.
“I wouldn’t say we try to control anything. I simply… keep Lumiose under my watchful eye. After all, if I hadn’t stepped in, you would have been stuck in a battle with those men alone.” Corbeau turned his gaze ahead once again, a hand reaching out to pat Scolipede on the back. “Battles can be quite fun, of course, and I’m certain you can handle yourself, but they tend to stop being fun when you have something to lose.”
N considered his own concerns over his safety and the safety of his friends. Best case scenario, his team would have had to overexert themselves to fight the thieves. Worst case scenario, the thieves would have won, and he would lose everyone he cared about.
But still…
“I see… You only do what you think is necessary then. But how can you tell when you’re doing too much?” N clenched his fists at his side, attempting to choke back the emotion rising in his voice. “It is easy to use force and say it’s for the greater good. It’s easy to search for a false truth using faulty ideals. How can you be sure that you are right and others are not?”
Corbeau stopped walking, standing still in the middle of the street. Wherever they were was less crowded than before, but the hustle of the city continued around them. N stared at his back, attempting to gauge how the man felt about this line of questioning. His resolve did not shake. N would rather remain lost forever than accept help from someone who treated people and pokemon as tools and force as a simple solution. He would not follow anyone blindly again.
To his surprise, Corbeau began to laugh.
He turned to face N, one arm wiping his eyes while his other hand lifted his glasses. The laughter wasn’t malicious or even condescending. It seemed like he was genuinely amused.
“Sheesh, I sense you won’t let me get away with anything but the truth, huh? I can respect that.” Corbeau faced him, eyes dancing with the laughter he was suppressing. “Not to get into all the messy details, but life hasn’t always been easy for me. I know a thing or two about the cruelties this world will inflict on the unaware, and I use that knowledge to act accordingly.” Corbeau leaned close to N like he was whispering some great secret. “Plus, my second-in-command can be a real contrarian. If I ever step out of line, I can expect plenty of pushback. Right, Scolipede?”
The pokemon grumbled their assent, and N…
N listened to Scolipede’s voice. The pokemon was relaxed and healthy and seemed content to follow Corbeau. There was a history there, out of N’s reach, but it told him enough. This “Rust Syndicate” may not be perfect, but its leader loved his pokemon, and they in turn loved him. Perhaps that was enough, for now.
N sighed, allowing himself to smile.
“I suppose that makes a certain sort of sense. Our experiences do shape how we go through life.”
“I can tell you don’t fully approve, and that’s fine enough by me. If I’m being honest, I think you’re terribly naive about how the world works if you think I’m too extreme. But you’re asking questions. That’s good. Can’t learn anything otherwise. I’d expect nothing less from the former king of Team Plasma.”
Corbeau once again began his casual walk forward. N froze, vision tunneling on the man walking further and further away from him. After a few seconds, Zorua chirped in his ear, and he hurried after Corbeau.
“Wait, how did you- you shouldn’t- I-”
Corbeau paused, turning with a confused look on his face.
“Oh, was I not supposed to know that? Apologies, I tend to keep up on the affairs of other regions as well as Kalos. It never hurts to be safe.”
“Did you… know that the whole time?”
“If you’re asking if I knew when I had Gyarados flood half of the Magenta Sector, I did. Perhaps I was doing some field work to make sure you wouldn’t cause trouble. Or maybe I just believe in people’s ability to change.” The smirk came back, though now N could see it was almost teasing. “Either way, you are a visitor to Lumiose City. That’s what matters to me. And I hate when people don’t fight fair.”
“You were willing to help the former king of Team Plasma? No questions asked?”
Corbeau shrugged.
“Should you being the former leader of Team Plasma bother me? You’ve moved on, had a change of heart, found your truth and ideals, so on and so forth. I do my research, you know. It’s not my concern, so long as you don’t plan to cause trouble.”
N’s mouth opened to respond before he realized that Corbeau was joking. Probably.
“Thank you?”
He hadn’t had someone know his past and still treat him so casually. Usually, there was disdain and disgust at his past actions. Sometimes, they felt the need to hide it behind a smile and twisted words, but often they didn’t. Who could blame them?
Traveling allowed him to learn more about the world, and he could pursue his own truth and ideals by learning about other people and other places. But he also needed to escape Unova, where everyone knew him. Where people already had opinions of him and his past before they ever met him. The bustling cities of Kalos were stressful, but they were also freeing. To be able to walk through a crowded area without anyone stopping to stare at him… it made him feel like a part of the world rather than an oddity separate from it.
And now, in this far off region, someone knew who he was and didn’t care.
“Oh, and we’re here by the way. I didn’t want to interrupt whatever it is that you’re thinking so hard about, but the barista might start to ask questions if I hang around here too much longer. I’m somewhat of a local celebrity, you know?”
Before N could stop him, Corbeau reached out a hand and patted Zorua on the head. She didn’t bite or hiss or otherwise defend herself; she leaned into the touch. Another reason this Corbeau could be trusted then. Zorua had always been a better judge of character than N was.
“You have a Xtransceiver, correct?” He didn’t wait for a response. A piece of cardboard was placed in N’s hand. “Take this then. In case you need me.” Corbeau stepped back before he turned around and began to walk away. “I hope you have an enlightening time in Lumiose City.”
N smiled, clutching the paper in his hand. Zorua barked after Corbeau, wagging her tail in her approximation of a wave.
“Thank you for sharing your truth with me!”
Corbeau raised his right hand in a casual wave. After a few more moments, he disappeared into the crowd.
“He was very interesting, wasn’t he?”
Zorua chirped, rubbing her head into his shoulder. He then lifted up his hand to view the card he was given. He smiled at its contents before heading into the cafe.
A Rust Syndicate business card. The people in the city certainly were interesting.