Preston was not a ranger. He was a chef. Some would argue that his best days were behind him, and they were likely right. He wasn't the trainer that he had used to be, back when he was a younger man. Occasionally he woke up and his back ached, and sometimes the light was too bright when he was trying to read the ingredients list in his restaurant. He was the last person who should be in a place like this.

And yet, despite that, he was here anyway. Why?

Chefs needed resources, and the Giant Chasm was a lush paradise full of impossible creatures. He had hoped to capture one of the elusive Paradox Pokémon here in an attempt to prepare one for consumption, to see if any new dishes could be made from this new breadbasket.

So far, he had learned that Scream Tails were decidedly delicious, Brute Bonnets a delicacy, and Sandy Shocks wholly inedible.

Meanwhile, a Zubat flew overhead, before landing under the brim of Mitsuru's exotic hat, appreciative of the shade. It chittered in her face, before looking at her quizzically.

---

Mitsuru Kagami
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"EEP!"

As the Zubat fluttered up to her face, Mitsuru let out a terrified yelp. However, said terror was short-lived, as the creature quickly revealed itself to be... Well, perhaps it would be presumptuous to call it docile, but at the very least, it wasn't aggressive. That was good! The situation was already bad enough, and the last thing she needed right now was a fresh set of bite marks.

...Not that getting bit right now would make her situation much worse, but still!

"Whew... Okay! You're fine, you're fine, you're fine you're fine you're fine... You're fine!" The mystic softly reassured herself, keeping a close eye on the bat as it hung from her hat. As the initial wave of fear passed, a surge of worry rushed to replace it. Was it really fine for it to be so close to her face? After all, didn't Zubat have super sensitive hearing? What would happen if her calling for help upset it? No, as nice as the cave critter seemed, it would be better for both of them if they parted ways. O-of course, she couldn't really move right now, so... "...Hey, little guy, I'm really sorry about this, but could you please move? I'm, um, kind of in the middle of something here."

---

Preston Fugu
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The Zubat did not move. In fact, it chittered at her, as if mocking her failure.

Zubats were pretty annoying, but they were pretty popular with occult fans and whatnot. When someone wanted something cool like a Duskull, their parents tended to surprise them with a Zubat instead. It was the compromise of Pokémon, and it left nobody happy. If anything, it was lucky that it weighed nothing. Otherwise, Mitsuri would be kissing sand by now.

It chittered again, before suddenly-

"Batholomew! Where'd you get off to?" A gruff voice barked out from the nearby bushes. The clanging of metal rang through the Giant Chasm as a chef came into view. He looked far more professional than the 'chefs' at Mitsuru's place of employment, but he also looked murderous. If looks could kill, they would be draped in an apron and their name would be Preston Fugu.

Batholomew let out a shrill chatter as it flew towards Preston and nested under his apron.

"Ah, there you are." The chef said, tickling the bat's chin as it disappeared into his folds. "Was wondering what all the noise was."

He looked at the mystic drowning in sand.

"Looks like I found it."

---

Mitsuru Kagami
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Was it... Was it laughing at her?

Ugh! Seriously, the nerve of this thing! It was bad enough that it was using her one-of-a-kind Miss Crane™(patent pending) hat to roost, but now it was making fun of her, too! She had half a mind to reach into her backpack and spray it away with a Repel. That'd teach the little jerk some proper manners! However, she decided against it. After all, it was just a wild bat, following its natural instincts. It felt a little cruel to punish it over something so petty.

Plus, she didn't really want to move right now, what with the quicksand and all. Even just flinching earlier caused her to sink down a few milimetres. Buuuut, maybe if she moved slowly and carefully...?

Ultimately, she never got the chance to test that theory. Instead, a husky voice called out, and the Zubat quickly flew back to their side. Wait, this was a trained Zubat? Then, did that mean...? Was its owner a...? Mitsuru swallowed hard, and then, slowly and carefully, turned to face the Team Rocket Gru--

"Preston?!"

She blinked. Then, she blinked again. Then, she blinked a dozen more times, just for good measure. No, her eyes weren't deceiving her. That was Preston Fugu, alright. Not that she wasn't glad to see him, mind! But, uh, the last time the two talked, it wasn't exactly on the best of terms...

...She still hadn't financially recovered from that dry cleaning bill...

"Um, hi! Hello! It's very nice to see you again. How are you?"

---

Preston Fugu
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"Good." The chef's scowl deepened as Mitsuru spoke, reminded of their unpleasant past. "You're not drunk this time. That's an improvement."

Or maybe she was, given she had wandered into quicksand. He hadn't even noticed any in the Giant Chasm, and he had been poking and prodding every barely wandered trail in search of ingredients. Rocket and League were battling everywhere, but Preston made a point to avoid both sides now.

Rocket. League. It didn't matter which was on top, it was miserable. Misery begot misery.

"I suppose you'll want out, then?" Preston's voice was bored as he looked around. "Anything for a paying customer. Give me a second, mystic."

His eyes fell on a prehistoric swath of vines to his left. From his belt came a gleaming silver knife meant for cooking as he tugged on the vines to test their durability. Satisfied, he cut it free and tied one end around a tree. The other flew through the air towards the mystic.

"Grab it and pull. I'll do the same."

---

Mitsuru Kagami
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"E-ehehehe..."

Crap, he remembered! Mitsuru had really hoped he'd forgot about that whole "throwing up" incident. Then again, if a strange woman came into her business and threw up all over her, then she'd probably remember that, too. In fact, she'd probably never forget... Ugh, this REALLY sucked! Even just thinking about it made her want to curl up into a ball and die. Metaphorically, of course. If she literally curled up into a ball, then she'd actually die. She didn't want that. She was trying to avoid that.

To that end, when Preston tossed a vine down to her, she was ecstatic. Having to pull herself up, though? That brought her back down to Earth, and a little deeper into the quicksand, too. Oh well. she supposed she couldn't be picky, considering the circumstances.

"Thank you! Um, on three? Okay, on three... One, two, THREE!"

And so, she pulled. She pulled with all the strength of an unathletic middle-aged woman. She pulled with all the power of someone who hadn't eaten anything but microwave meals and takeout for several months straight. She pulled with all the might of a woman who hadn't gone to the gym since January 8th, 2024.

But more than anything else, she pulled as though her life depended on it. Because as far as she was concerned? It did.

---

Preston Fugu
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The sheer might of a middle aged woman was a sight to behold.

Not a good sight, but a sight nonetheless. Preston gave her a flat look as Mitsuri attempted to escape the hell of her own creation. Flabby muscles and poor nutrition paid dividends as the mystic pulled herself an inch out of the quicksand. For a moment, Preston thought she'd keep going.

An inch became a centimeter, then she returned back to where she started. Impeccable form.

No wonder she was struggling. Any time she ate something that her body could possibly wrestle nutrients from, she downed a bottle and vomited it back out. It was no wonder she hadn't dropped dead from malnutrition.

"Wait, on me." Finally the sight of mediocrity was too much, and Preston took a firm grip on the vine. Muscles forged in the kitchen and two wars flexed as the chef began to pull. "With me, now. Easy does it."

He made a point not to mention her weight.

Mitsuru began to rise from the sand like a spirit from a talisman. It wasn't long before she was almost completely free from the quicksand that imprisoned her.

---

Mitsuru Kagami
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Through great struggle (On Mitsuru's part) and great effort (On Preston's part), she began to ascend. A centimetre became an inch became a foot became a meter became more and more and more. Then, finally, like a humble Magikarp cresting a grand waterfall, Mitsuru flung herself out of the quicksand and back onto dry land.

For a moment, she just laid there, slumped over on the ground panting and puffing like an overweight Poochyena on a five minute walk. Despite doing almost none of the heavy lifting, she was completely exhausted. Her body felt like it had just finished deadlifting a three-hundred kilogram weight. More than anything else right now, she wanted to go home, eat some leftover fast food, take a hot bath, and sleep for the next twelve hours.

But she couldn't. Not while she still had something she had to see through. So, after taking the time to recover, she pulled herself back up to her feet, dusted herself off, and turned to face Preston.

"Thank you, Mr Fugu!" Mitsuru bowed. Alas, words were all she had in way of thanks right now. Not before she did what she needed to do. Until then, anything better would have to wait for another day and another time. "I'll figure out how to pay you back for this one day, I promise!"

With that, Mitsuru quickly straightened up and scurried away, taking care to give the quicksand a wide berth. She'd certainly learned her lesson from this one. She'd be way more cautious from here on out. No more silly trips and stupid falls for her! Probably! Maybe! She hoped...!

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Preston Fugu
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"Right. I'm sure something will come to mind." Preston's voice was as dry as the quicksand Mitsuru had risen from. "If my restaurant ever gets haunted by a spirit, I'll let you know."

If that did happen, he'd need to preemptively invest in a wet floor sign and an odor killer, lest she vomit all over his hardwood floors again. Hell, Preston might just let the spirit have his restaurant at that point. It'd be more reliable than calling over the mystic who drank most of his sake.

He didn't really care why she was here, only that this debacle ended quickly and without fuss. Thanks to whatever god bore witness, it did. There was no misshap, no scenario that led to great distress. Instead, it was simple rescue mission. A good deed to help Preston sleep at night. Lord knew he needed more of those.

"Take care, then." He turned in the opposite direction and walked off in search of ingredients. If fate was good, they'd never run into one another again.

Ever.

Everrrrr.

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Mitsuru Kagami
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