Pokémon Obsidian | An Orre Fanfiction

Chapter 82: Problem

Orvil had two more interviews to go before he could take a day off. They were both in Pyrite Town's attempt at an upmarket neighbourhood, Pyrite Heights. His Pelipper dropped him outside a shiny white apartment block, which looked utterly unnatural amongst the dusty red rock and grimy roofs below. The elevator that took him to the third floor looked smooth, but it juddered so much he thought it might get stuck.

There was no doormat outside number 58. The dusty footprints were never cleaned up, either. Carlos answered the door. The apartment reeked of stale booze. Horace was discharged from rehab to finish his treatment programme at home after Nascour's grandson punched him in the face. The nurses had no doubt Horace was sober. It was difficult to flush years of heavy drinking from both his body and his apartment.

It wasn't a pitiful home. Most of the furniture was dusty or stained, but it was of high quality. It wasn't devoid of personality, either. The keyrings bizarrely hanging from the whirring fans were souvenirs from Horace's trips to Galar. He had framed copies of Wes' and Cail's jerseys. Amongst action and science fiction novels on the lone bookcase were photo albums, books by Jovi and Jude about Orre and a few Orre League programs. The empty spaces were usually occupied by maths books, which were now on the coffee table. Horace was working through them as one of his rehab activities. He seemed to genuinely enjoy the satisfaction of solving maths problems.

'I still don't get why Garlic Jr. got to stay when he punched me because he drank his shitty cologne.'

'Because no-one wants you to get punched again for refusing to denounce Jamie. Which you're free to do, of course.'

'I already told him what I think he did wrong. I'm not gonna shit all over my friend just for the Vullaby Celebrity Press.'

'That's fine, but I still have to ask why you never reported Cipher.'

'Because I was making money from it. Simple as that.'

Horace hesitated. 'I guess I also thought they were harmless if Jamie was in charge. I didn't realise he'd lost his mind until he took Celebi. And I didn't have a clue what he went through at "Rose Moore's Pool Party." Now, if I'd known that, I would've reported it.'

'But you must have known that making Shadow Pokémon is bad.'

'Yeah, but I was purifying them. He was gonna make them whether I did that or not. So all I was doing was profiting off of what I thought was right, without snitching on my friend.'

'He didn't really return the favour when he had you attacked.'

'He'd lost his mind. I know you have to ask if I want to press charges, but my teeth were gonna get knocked out sooner or later in my profession. That's why you don't fuck with Cipher. Even if the Grand Master is your pal.'

The bandages were off. Horace's distant smirk was perfectly visible.

'At least I can afford all the new teeth I need, thanks to him.'

'Were you ever considered a member of Cipher?'

'No.'

'Did the people you returned the Pokémon to ever report the incidents?'

'Most of them were so glad to have them back, they didn't give a shit. A few reported it. I didn't stop them, or I would've looked weird. But the cops didn't do anything. Why would they? There was no other evidence of a Cipher revival. You know all that, though, right?'

'Yeah, but I have to ask you to see what you say. You haven't mentioned that you were interviewed after one of those reports.'

'I was getting to that.'

'No matter how much I personally believe you've learned your lesson, it's a problem that you knew exactly what was going on, but assured the cops you were just retrieving regular, stolen Pokémon from rogue Chasers and Hunters – knowing they'd believe you because you're Wes' grandson.'

Horace sighed. 'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Y'all think that 'cause you only see Wes. And I love Wes, as you can see. But I'm also just like my mom and Cail. They're just as much parts of me as anyone on my dad's side. I'm a lying scoundrel, sure. But I can say, hand on heart, that I have never lied thinking people will believe me because I'm Wes' grandson. I lie thinking they should know better when they're dealing with Cail's grandson – and Wes', for that matter, 'cause he might've saved all those Pokémon, but he's no angel. No-one is a 100% pure angel.'

'To be honest...'

For a moment, Orvil shared his returning smirk. 'It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that Johnson blindly believed you, no matter how well Verzant had him trained. But the court won't know or care about that.'

'Then they're dumb! Everyone knows about Johnson. He's a damn tourist attraction after all those movies.'

'I know that, Horace. And I agree with you, but you still knowingly lied to the police about an incredibly serious situation that could've been stopped sooner – with less consequences and distress for Jamie – if you hadn't.'

'I know, I know. Whether you believe me or not, that last part is exactly why I've learned my lesson. But what am I gonna do about it now, seriously? Say sorry? I've already said sorry to Jamie.'

'Pleading guilty will help. So will saying sorry, if you show genuine remorse. But... Horace... was it really just friendship that stopped you? Or were you afraid of Jamie?'

'Of Cipher, maybe. They were obviously gonna lock me up if I snitched. But then we're back at "Rose Moore's Pool Party." I'm missing six teeth and I don't blame Jamie. When are we, society, gonna look at the root of the problem, not the product of it? Even if we say he's 100% responsible for how that affected him, aren't we gonna ask why it affected him so badly? Acknowledge that he's ruined his own life? No. We're not gonna look at guys like Rose, or ask questions about psychology. We're gonna turn our heads to make Jamie spend the rest of his life paying for all this, whether he's locked up or not. Sorry, but I'm not gonna stand in court and add to that problem to save my own skin, not this time. I gotta find a way to sleep at night without booze and that ain't it.'