"Your secrets are safe with me. I'll chronicle it in the library of my heart." Howard nodded. The words were lame and childish, but genuine. He wanted to preserve every single story, every single emotion, every single word.

Yet he couldn't. Time gushed through his hands like water, and the more he tried to hold on, the more it gushed away.

He would hold tightly onto this story. It was no mere interest, it was his passion. His obsession. His everything. Without it, who was he? Just another criminal who had sold his dignity for money. He was, put simply, broken. He just hadn't realized it yet.

Howard Slayte was broken.

"I can't hold every piece of history in my hands, I'm beginning to realize. Every person has their own story to tell, yet I can't be there to witness it. How many tales have been lost to time, without being written down. It's too much."

He stood up and whistled. His Mawile made an appearance, taking the stack of papers that Howard offered to it and scurrying away to stuff them in some dusty corner for later purview.

"Hoenn is never quiet. Take the chance now, before it slips away. It happened to me." The bitter tone of someone who missed out on something fills the room. The memory of a woman flashes in his eye, before being pushed away and shelved, forgotten. The dark tone vanishes in favor of cheeriness. "Take these."

He pushes a box of tea leaves in front of them.

"I can always get more, and I have a meeting with Rustboro University's dean about what we found in Regice's ruins." He smiles wryly. "Take them, before I forget."

---

Makoto Kurumi

Makoto would consider Howard's advice - to take the chance to revisit Ecruteak while they still had the opportunity. There was something in his demeanor and voice, that read of something like regret - and they attempted to better read him...

... But before they could come to any proper conclusions in making sense of this other side of him, or respond to his words, they were suddenly presented with the box of tea.

Makoto blinked at it once, twice, before nodding and taking the box. "I... Thank you," They spoke, letting out a soft sigh as if to release the last bits of stress that had been lingering. Howard... He was a good friend, they decided - even if it'd been long since they'd been able to really call a fellow human being a friend.

They wanted to know him better. They wanted to be able to help him, in turn.

Though, it was clear that the time to talk and visit was over; Howard had an approaching meeting, and they imagined he'd need to prepare for it. So, smiling back to him the best they could, they nodded and stood - tea box in hand. "Thank you again, Howard..." They spoke - soft and cordial, but with warmth. "I enjoyed seeing these artifacts of yours- and... I wouldn't mind, if you ever wanted to show me more."

With this, they'd scritch Koseki on the head, before preparing to leave, gathering their things back together...

"It would be my pleasure." Howard smiled softly, despite the charred nerves around his missing eye causing him pain. "I have a sash worn by Alolan royalty, woven from the fur of Ninetales. I'm sure it'll interest you."

He can judge from their choice in Pokémon that they prefer foxes. He didn't judge Makoto's choices, especially when he himself collected almost exclusively ancient Pokémon. His armada of Sigilyth grows broader by the day.

It is for that reason that he loathes that he likes this person's company. The more he learns about them, the more he learns about the rest of Rocket's people, the harder it becomes to condemn them. When you've sat down and traded tea leaves with another, they're not just a nameless grunt filling the ranks.

All it takes is a word for a number to become a person.

Rocket was full of people like him. Makoto was, at least. How was he going to justify being in Rocket now? By lying, most likely. Lie to Makoto, to Amor, to Walsh. Lie until the mask becomes reality, and lie until Howard became the monster Rocket assumed he was.

Lie.

"Take care, Makoto Kurumi." Howard stood up and let them out. He stood alone in his apartment, and let out a weary sigh. "Why are you punishing me?" He asked the artifacts that filled the room. "Why do you show me that people in Rocket have hearts?"

The artifacts did not reply. Nobody did. Howard was alone, without the fellowship of Makoto.

Alone with the past.

---

Makoto Kurumi