A gentle afternoon shower powdered the Slateport night market in a glimmering mist. As the sun sank into the sky, hues of yellow began to turn orange. Reflected off the sea beyond, there was a calmness that would betray you into believing in a peace that hadn’t existed in this land for quite a time.

“Yon.”

Yes, that was the name of someone, he knew. Grandpa Yon, or rather, Yannick Solette the First, was a brilliant entrepreneur of his time. An eye for anything shiny, he turned rocks in the ground into a crystalline empire. But it was doubtful that this person was calling for a dead man. No, he was asking for someone in front of him. That would be Yannick Solette the Second. Heir Apparent to Bijoux Solette, the most extravagant gemstone boutique for the most tasteful of custom.

Yannick the Second was the archetypal golden child. With a smile of white pearls for teeth and yellow and green opals for eyes, he led the family into a new age of prosperity. The apple of his mother’s eye and the inheritant of the pressure that Yon I had put on his son. Firm handshakes and even firmer starch shirts had been the last five years since he had taken over the main Slateport office of the company.

“Yonny are you there?”

“Hmm..?” His attention was brought back to the conversation at hand.

“You said something about your sister and then you drifted off. You’re such bad company. I swear if I didn’t need your money, I’d find a new best friend.”

His sister was indeed coming over for dinner that night. The event had Yannick in a strange mood. He hadn’t seen her for years, the same as the rest of his family. This wasn’t just a catch up though, he had something important to discuss.

Yannick slouched even further back against the railing. He was hiding in an alleyway behind his shop, away from the public eye. He pondered how she would find him now. The years away from the oppressive family home had changed him. The ambition had waned, proving to be a relic of a previous era. Tiredness. Fear. Vice. Things that didn’t exist in the image of the Solette firstborn. But he marched forward, because that is what his feet were made to do. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew. At least the tar would only coat his insides, leaving his exterior with it’s facade.

“Yeah, I better be heading off. Kou is making dinner for us so I can’t be late.”

Yannick took one last puff and threw the butt on the ground, stamping it out with a bounce in his step. Just mentioning her name made him feel better.

“Come on Hops, it’s time to go.”

Yannick called the name of his Nymble. It had been playing with his friend’s pokemon, a yanma named Wizz. Childish names for pokemon they had caught as children. Hops bounced around the alley, trying to catch Wizz as he darted back and forth. They chattered with joy while playing their favourite game.

Yon, Kou and the man next to him, Oz, were childhood friends. On the rare occasion that he had been able to escape the house, Yon delighted in joining his friends in adventuring in the woods, capturing bugs. They had plans to live out their dreams as pokemon trainers, like all young kids did. However, the realities of adulthood were not kind to those dreams.

“Before you go, I have the stuff.”

Oz pulled out a bag of white powder. Yon went to take it and his friend snatched it away again.

“That’ll be three bands.”

“I’ve already paid for that, dickhead.”

Oz had always been a mischievous prick. Upon arriving at Slateport, he fell in love with the grandiosity of the big city. He ended up with a bad crowd. The Rockets. Yon had long since given up on trying to convince him to take another path. Offering him good jobs that he was ill-qualified for.

That being said, Yannick didn’t hold any contempt. With all that the world was these days, he couldn’t fault anyone for being a shade of grey. World-ending meteors, legendary beasts, and alternate dimensions. The League big shots were the protagonists who saved the world on the daily. Everyone else was a bug in the dirt. Sure, some of us, like the Solette family, were slightly bigger bugs. But the recent events had put into context how meaningless our day-to-day struggles were.

“Yeah but you see, there’s this new opportunity you’re really gonna want to hear about.”

Oz’s hands came together in a plea while Yon went ahead and snatched the powder. There was always a hair-brained scheme involved somehow. Yon didn’t acknowledge him further and instead entered through the back of the shop, making sure to tuck the bag into a hidden pocket in the inside of his blazer. Hops jumped on his shoulder and chirped at Wizz.

“Fine, but it’s your loss. Don’t come running back to me when I buy you out, as well as your neighbours!”

“You’ll be doing me a favour.” Yon grumbled under his breath.

Oz followed and the pair made their way to the front. Oz only stopped for a second, running his gaze over the countless gleaming artifacts in the shop’s inventory. The pair said goodnight to Haymitch and Star, the night guard and his Gurdurr.

“You first.” Yon said, gesturing to the front door of the shop.

“What, you mean you’re ashamed of being seen in public with your best friend?”

“That’s a yes.” Yon didn’t have to think too hard.

“Must be tough, being someone you don’t want to be.”

Oz shrugged and smiled as he turned to leave, claiming some sort of high ground for their last exchange. They said their goodbyes and their two bug pokemon waved their spindly legs at each other before departing. As Yon stepped out the door, the facade was turned back on. His posture stiffened and his chin was raised. He smiled and tipped his hat to passersby.

A fifteen-minute walk and he was back to his city apartment, sandwiched between office buildings. A flashy home for a young, ambitious CEO on the rise. Half a dozen stone steps separated the peasantry of the cobblestones from the soft carpeted interior of the complex foyer. Here he would wait for the much-anticipated meeting of the first and second children of the Solette family.