Reika wasn't having it.
She shoved the money into his hand and refused to take it back, and eventually the man gave up and pocketed it.
"Fine. Next time I'm loading you up with extra meat," he grumbled.
"You say that every time. Pretty soon I'll be digging through the pork looking for the noodles." Reika waved from the doorway, grinning.
Then she was gone, and the owner was left laughing to himself.
"Kid doesn't always have to be so grown-up about it."
Nobody heard that but him.
Outside, Reika scooped Pikachu up off the pavement and started for home.
The sun was low, and the light coming through a gap between buildings threw two wavering shadows into a corner.
"Huh?"
She stopped and squinted into the dark.
There was a man sitting there, slumped against the wall like his bones had given out, eyes fixed on nothing. A bowl sat in front of him.
Beside him lay a Luxray, badly hurt. The blood on the ground had already dried. He was pressed against his Trainer's side, and his breathing came out more than it went in.
Reika ran over. The smell that hit her when she got close was rot.
"Your Luxray needs a doctor."
The vagrant cracked open swollen eyes. She swam in his vision, doubled.
"None of your business. He's my Pokémon. I'll do what I want with him."
He said it flatly, like the question of whether Luxray lived or died didn't concern him.
Luxray managed to open one eye and look at the kind stranger in front of him. Then he closed it again and buried his head, the way something does when it's already accepted the ending.
The yellow stripes on his forelegs were caked over with filth, barely visible.
"How can you say that? He's in critical condition. He's going to die!" Reika's voice cracked upward.
Pikachu dropped to the ground, glaring at the man, fur bristling.
"Oh? So you're the good Samaritan? The saint?" He let out two dry, sneering laughs.
"You can't treat your own Pokémon like this!" She wasn't going to argue with him. She reached for the reeking, filthy Luxray instead.
And Luxray used the last of his strength to shift away from her hand. He didn't want to go.
"He won't go anywhere with you unless I say so," the man said, almost bored.
"I have money. I can pay for his treatment." She was starting to panic.
"You still don't get it. I don't want him anymore. He's the one who won't leave. Are you following me?"
The man sounded genuinely, completely done.
Reika's whole body went rigid. Pikachu shouted something at him, sparks jumping, like he intended to have this out.
Luxray didn't move. He just shook a little harder where his head lay.
"You've got money, right? Give me everything on you and I'll sell him to you."
Through the hair hanging in his face, his clouded eyes met hers—hers pale green and clear as jelly.
Reika swallowed the anger and emptied her pockets, right down to the loose coins.
She dropped it all in the bowl and looked up at him.
"Is that enough?"
He lunged for it like a man who'd never seen money before, dragging the cracked bowl to his chest and sweeping every bill and coin into his arms.
Then he tossed her a scuffed, grimy Poké Ball without looking. "He's yours."
Reika stopped acknowledging him entirely and crouched down in front of Luxray.
"Come on, sweetheart. Come with me." She stroked the bloodstained fur, and it hurt to touch him.
Luxray only trembled where he lay. He didn't fight her. So she recalled him into the ball, gathered up Pikachu, and walked away without looking back.
Leaving the man alone.
The dark closed over him, and he hugged the broken bowl against his chest, shaking hard.
Maybe from excitement. Maybe from something caught in his throat.
When night came, he braced a hand against the wall and dragged himself into the alley beside him.
The bowl hit the ground with a clatter. Coins and bills scattered across the concrete.
He kept walking into the dark, and money kept falling out of his arms as he went.
At the end of the alley there was a patch of scrubby, out-of-the-way greenery.
The last of his strength went out of him and he dropped to the dirt.
"Raikou. Take me, Raikou..."
Out of the grass came something like a golden saber-toothed tiger—purple cloud on its back, blue cross across its face, tail a jagged blue bolt.
The Thunder Pokémon. Lightning made flesh. Raikou.
Raikou eased the man onto his back, and one light bound later, the spot where they'd been was empty.
The man coughed blood onto Raikou's shoulder. Raikou faltered and stopped.
"Don't stop. I'm past saving. Twenty years. Twenty years of scraping by on borrowed time. I'm the one who failed all of you."
"Ho-Oh doesn't look kindly on Trainers like me. Take me to the next place. The rest of the kids don't deserve to go into the ground with me."
Raikou moved again, a streak of lightning, and the man on his back didn't feel so much as a jolt.
Twenty years ago, he'd been famous. Tonight, he was a nameless vagrant with a disease eating him hollow.
He would die quietly, and nobody would remember.
....
Frostvale City. The Pokémon Center.
"You figure out what you're wearing tomorrow?" Nikozo asked.
Akiyama thought about it. "Tails. It's the only thing I brought from home that works for an auction."
"You'll look sharp. I'll probably go with a black suit." Nikozo turned that over for a second, then handed Akiyama something that looked more like a wedding invitation than a ticket.
"Here. Admission for tomorrow. You hadn't bought one yet, right?"
"Honestly, no. I was going to buy online and just scan a QR code at the door." He paused. "You know. Because that's easy."
The auction wasn't one of those high-society-only affairs. It was open, aimed at Trainers in general.
Akiyama took the ticket Nikozo was pushing at him. "Still. Thanks."
"Don't worry about it, it's pocket change. Oh—and it's credentialed under Nick Ferry Lines, so bid as high as you want. You don't pay at the table. Nick settles it afterward and we'll cover you."
He waved a hand like he was scattering an unknowable quantity of money.
Nobody even knew how brutal tomorrow's bidding would get, and he was already talking about reimbursement.
"You really don't have to do that. Dad never cut off my allowance. I can afford a Mega Stone." Akiyama turned him down.
Taking the ticket was one thing. Spending their money on top of it crossed a line.
"It's fine. I know you're not short on cash." Nikozo shrugged. "But neither is Nick. Spend whatever you want. You already took the ticket—you're not handing it back now, are you?"
Numbers on a page. That was all.
As far as Nikozo was concerned, buying a friendship like this one was a steal. He liked Akiyama. A little money was absolutely worth it.
Akiyama stopped pushing back and said instead, "When you've got time, bring Growlithe out to Greenleaf Town. The scenery's worth the trip."
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