Pokémon: Master of the Rain Team

”Did you get Nana back?” Reiji spotted Skinny and pressed a finger to his lips. This was a Pokémon Center—being loud just drew glares.

Catching the looks from nearby trainers, Skinny lowered his voice and slid into the seat beside him. ”Big Brother, I already took her back. Weren’t you handling something? Is it done?”

”It’s done,” Reiji murmured, giving a small nod.

”Whew.” Skinny exhaled, eyes flicking around like he expected the other trainers to see right through him.

Reiji tapped his shoulder, half-chiding, half-amused. ”Don’t wear that ’I did something bad’ face. Did you forget what I told you? Have some confidence.”

”I know, Big Brother.” Skinny nodded. They’d taken down kidnappers—trash who’d snatched Nana. He had no reason to feel guilty, even with Officer Jenny in the room. He’d saved his little sister—and removed someone the law couldn’t punish.

Just then, the Officer Jenny on duty walked over—Reiji’s outfit and mask drew attention. ”Trainers, please show your IDs.”

Reiji tugged down the mask and handed his over. He had papers; he walked a clean line. So what if he’d buried three kidnappers? An ID check didn’t scare him.

”Trainer Reiji?” she read, and he raised his head so she could get a clear look. No recognition—likely not the Jenny who’d checked him before.

”And you,” she said to the younger trainer. ”Please show your ID.”

Skinny tensed. He didn’t meet her eyes, didn’t move, worrying she’d ask what they’d been doing. Reiji elbowed him, and Skinny finally looked up.

”Your ID, please.”

Jolted back to himself, Skinny patted around for it—somehow forgetting it was already in his hand. Reiji, dying of secondhand embarrassment, just took the card and passed it over.

”Why is he so nervous?” Jenny asked Reiji before even looking at it. The boy’s tension felt wrong.

”Nurse’s orders hit hardest when you’re waiting,” Reiji said smoothly. ”His Pokémon are in rough shape. He’s worried.”

Realizing how he’d been acting, Skinny nodded quickly. ”My Poliwhirl is in emergency care. I’m… worried about them.”

Jenny checked the card. The address matched the West District orphanage—both boys were from there. She stepped to the counter, verified the intake records, and returned their IDs. Then she gave Reiji a warning:

”Trainer Reiji, you’ve only registered three Pokémon. You can’t carry unregistered Pokémon on the street. If you want to bring more, register them.”

”Thanks for the reminder. I’ll take care of it,” Reiji said with an easy smile.

When she left, Reiji slung an arm over Skinny’s shoulder. ”It gets easier. You’ll get used to it.”

”You say that like it’s nothing,” Skinny muttered with a wry grin. First kill behind him, then standing under Jenny’s nose—his nerves still buzzed. Reiji could lie without blinking; the kid would need reps to get there.

Truth was, Reiji hadn’t been born that way. Years grinding through office politics in another life had dulled him, taught him the blank face and the polite smile.

”Trainer Reiji. Trainer Reiji—”

”Over here.” He stood as Nurse Joy called, meeting her halfway. ”How is my Poliwhirl?”

”Severely injured, with multiple hits from Electric-type moves. The fingers were the worst. It’s stable now. Take it home to rest, and no battling for two days.”

”Can it train?” Reiji asked, relief loosening his chest.

”Only rehab work. No finger training. Got it?”

”Got it. Thank you.”

”And your Krabby took repeated Electric-type attacks too. Why would you send Krabby against Electric users?”

”It was one-on-one, no switching allowed,” Reiji admitted, wiping a bead of sweat.

”You trainers—always reckless. Take better care of them,” Joy sighed, waving herself back to work.

Reiji paid at the window and collected his six Poké Balls. Poliwhirl’s bill: 8,000. Krabby: 5,000. Rhyhorn: 3,000. The other three were basic treatment at 1,000 each.

Total: 19,000.

All told, it didn’t feel like a loss. In fact, he’d cleared several million. No wonder trainers kept getting into fights—robbing the wicked really was the fastest way to make money.

As for Poliwhirl’s Ice Punch ”ice-burst” phenomenon: big power, but big recoil. He’d need a way to dump the blast entirely into the opponent. Otherwise, the tech wasn’t worth it.

With the six balls back on his belt, Reiji returned to Skinny. ”I’m heading to the villa. Are you going to the orphanage or your grandpa?”

”My grandpa,” Skinny said. He still had a Primeape to deal with. The tavern crowd often gossiped about the black market under the bar’s floor—but his grandpa never let him near it. This time he had a real prize. He wanted to see what grandpa would say.

”The tavern, huh.” Reiji thought, then handed over a Machop’s ball. He raised two fingers. ”Give this to your grandpa. I want this much.”

”I understand.” Two fingers—two million. Let grandpa handle the sale.

Skinny tucked the ball away. Reiji had already slipped out of sight.

Outside, Reiji mounted Pelipper again but didn’t fly home. He headed for the orphanage first.

Lights were still on when he touched down. The director opened his door at the noise and peered out to see Reiji dismounting.

”Ah, Reiji?” he called.

”Director, is Nana okay?” That was why Reiji had come.

”She’s fine—already asleep. No injuries besides rope marks. Caterpie is with her. You came to check on her?”

”Good.” Reiji let out a breath, fished out a cigarette, and lit it. He almost offered one to the director—then noticed the old man’s pipe. Different habits.

”Haven’t had one in a while,” the director said, accepting the cigarette anyway. The pipe was mostly thrift.

”I caused trouble for the orphanage,” Reiji said, smoke curling away in the night. ”The loose ends are cut. No one will come here again.”

The ”orphanage identity” had been useful—but any trail drew heat. Identity always came with pros and cons.

”It’s all right. Don’t carry it on your back,” the director said, waving it off. Nana was safe; that was enough.

”To prevent a repeat, I’ll change the address on my ID tomorrow—and step out of the kids’ lives. Please don’t mention me.”

”Understood,” the director said. It was the right call for the orphanage. He wouldn’t argue.

Reiji took out a bundle. ”Here’s one million. Buy the kids something good.” To him, it was the price of a single Breloom.

”That’s too much,” the director said, hands up, refusing.

Reiji didn’t press. He set the money on the ground, took a tiny Butterfree charm from his pack, and placed it atop the bills.

”A small gift for Nana.”

”I see,” the director said softly. Nana had a Caterpie—she’d understand.

”I should go. If anything comes up, have Skinny kid find me. You don’t have to hide my situation from Nana. The others… let them forget me.” Reiji left the charm—and the cigarette pack—on the stack, then stepped back to Pelipper. He’d promised himself he’d quit; a couple of puffs were enough. The rest he left with the director.

”You’ll always be one of our children,” the director murmured as Reiji lifted into the night, a farewell spoken to the dark.

(End of Chapter)

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