Across a narrow stream, through thin mist, a Psyduck stood holding its head in both hands, watching the two figures hurry past.
Then it noticed the Gyarados behind them, jolted, walked in a tight panicked circle, and pitched face-first into the water.
"Hm?" Nanami 's eyes opened and went that way.
Nothing there.
She went back to the conversation.
"Hikaze's genuinely talented. Just not remarkable—not compared to the crowd twenty years ago. Everyone was burning at once back then."
"But he was the kind of genius who gets there by working. And a soft touch, honestly. If it weren't for your dad, he'd probably have gone a lot further."
Akiyama glanced back at her from under the umbrella.
"So what actually happened that year? My dad won't talk about it."
"Wouldn't you like to know." Her mouth curved. She shut her eyes and said nothing else.
"You realize I can just look it up."
"Nice try. There's almost nothing online. There wasn't an internet yet, and by the time there was, half the people involved had already dropped off the map. It's all word of mouth."
"Sure, sure, sure." Akiyama went back to walking.
Worth a shot.
"If you'd been born ten years earlier, you'd know what a brilliant era feels like. Twenty years earlier and you'd have seen the Pallet Town era."
She dropped it on him out of nowhere.
"I've heard that line so many times I've got calluses. Would it kill you to be specific?"
The most mysterious town in the world: Pallet Town.
The town out of legend: Pallet Town.
What existed online about that place read like myth—and all of it traced back to two Trainers who claimed to have come from there.
Ash.
And Red.
Starting twenty years ago, the two of them had cut through all nine regions by two completely different roads.
The closest Akiyama had ever gotten to either of them was this year's Silver Crown Conference. At least one of them was supposed to attend.
"That year is a very long story, and I can't tell it. Takeru, in Frostvale City—he was one of those stars. If you can pry his mouth open, he might tell you himself."
"Odds of that, though…"
She didn't finish. She didn't have to.
"Takeru, huh."
A slightly round figure surfaced in Akiyama's memory—from a photo he'd seen online.
Neither of them noticed that when Nanami said Pallet Town, a small green "bug" slipped out of the trunk of a nearby tree and settled in to watch them.
....
"There's a house out here."
Akiyama stopped at the edge of the trees. The rain hadn't let up a bit.
Nanami pulled up beside him and looked.
"That's strange. Who builds out here?" She didn't get it either.
"Convenient, though. I was starting to think I'd be hanging the tent in a tree tonight." He exhaled.
"Fair enough." Nanami didn't much care. She wasn't the one who'd have to do the talking.
Through the curtain of water, neither of them could see that the little house was buried in plants—vines and flowers packed over every inch of wall.
It looked like nobody had lived there in a very long time.
They got closer, and for a moment Akiyama's head swam.
The house in front of him was new. The paint on the siding had barely finished drying.
"That thing's brand-new. Get down off him before you scare—"
He turned around.
Nanami and Gyarados were gone.
CRACK.
Thunder split the sky open. Akiyama grabbed Gardevoir's hand on reflex.
"Okay. What just happened?" His brows drew together.
He looked at the wooden front door and swallowed.
Illusion?
He pinched himself. Felt nothing at all.
But—
He looked at Gardevoir.
The bewilderment on her face wasn't faked.
"Garde?"
Everything around her felt subtly wrong, like the world had been rebuilt slightly out of true. She couldn't have said what part.
"It's okay. Don't panic. Might just be a Ghost-type playing games with us." He kept his voice easy.
That thunderclap had rattled her too.
She had no idea what was happening. But he was standing right there, so she wasn't scared.
"Garde!"
Whatever this is, I'm keeping him safe.
Akiyama's hand went to his belt.
Kadabra's ball was gone.
He'd wanted a second Psychic opinion on whether this was real.
Rain kept coming down. This was going to be a problem.
He looked around. White mist was closing in from every direction, and the wooden door in front of him seemed to be getting more solid the longer he stood there.
It wanted him to knock.
With no other opening presenting itself, he raised a hand and knocked lightly.
He barely touched it. The sound that came back was enormous—as though an invisible hand had struck the wood along with his.
Knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
The noise rolled through the house, tangled up with the rain.
It faded out, and nothing happened at all.
"Who's out there playing ghost?"
Nanami had just watched Akiyama vanish out of thin air, leaving a Poké Ball and a backpack lying in the wet grass.
And the house in front of her showed her its real face. Rotten. Swallowed by vines. Decades abandoned.
"Gyarados. Hyper Beam." She patted his head.
Gyarados charged.
Dead white light poured out.
Crack-crack-crack-crack-crack—
A sound like bottles knocking together, and a black barrier rose in front of the little wooden door and ate the entire beam.
BOOM.
When the Hyper Beam cut out, the door swung open on its own.
Inside, weeds had taken the yard. The doors of the main hall hung half-ruined.
"Inviting me in? You think I can't blow you apart on your own ground?" Nanami made a soft, contemptuous noise.
Go inside? Not a chance.
"Gyarados. Hyper Beam."
His recharge ended and the white beam roared out again.
And the little wooden door grew—suddenly, hugely, into something like the mouth of a monster.
It swallowed them. When her vision cleared she was standing in the overgrown courtyard.
Nanami looked around. Not a soul.
"Fine. Again."
She had Gyarados keep firing, unmoved.
Compared to that particular unwelcome guest, the Akiyama inside the illusion was proving to be a much more agreeable visitor.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. My wife's legs aren't what they were."
The door opened. An old man stood there, bent low, pushing a wheelchair. The old woman seated in it had the kindest face Akiyama had ever seen.
He started to speak, and the old man got there first.
"You're looking for a place to stay the night, aren't you? One person's no trouble. Come in." He pushed the wheelchair aside to clear the doorway.
"Your Pikachu too, of course. Get in out of the rain."
Pikachu?
Akiyama's eyes dropped, and he caught it: a single footprint pressed down into the grass.
Somebody was standing there. Somebody he couldn't see.