Put simply, Chu-e Choi's existence was suffering. Beyond the illness, the stint as Underboss, and the candidate considered for Necrozma's corruption, his story was one dripping with despair and failure. He was a man without a dream, held together by a pink sweater and a desire to feel something, anything, before inevitably croaking.

Beyond that, he was being stood up. Howard wasn't there. The ticket had been sent to him, but the Rocket Admin was constantly buried under a massive pile of paperwork. With Admin Bee chasing after Galarian Moltres, Howard had picked up much of his slack.

Rocket Admins worked together as a unit, but they also fell together. There could be no in-fighting within their ranks. If Howard showed Chu-e half the interest that he did his paperwork, this 'date' would be entirely unnecessary.

Suddenly, Chu-e heard something delightful.

"Yeah, man. I keep telling them that the Hoyeon blade someone donated is actually from Johto. Most of their physical culture was wiped during the colonial era, but he wouldn't take it." Howard weaved between the show floor's tables with a coworker, holding a coffee in his hands as he did so. "Yeah, it's stupid. I've got a doctorate, I'm not stupid. I told him I've written more papers on the subject then him, and he cussed me out."

The coworker chuckled and said something Chu-e couldn't heard. In reply, Howard laughed.

"It's stupid. I'm gonna grab a late lunch and head down to the lab." Howard chuckled, before turning around and taking a sip of his coffee.

His eye turned on Chu-e. He choked on his drink. The only thought going through his mind was a prolonged 'Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.'

---

Chu-e Choi

Kalos had never been so brightly lit, a mad emperor had proclaimed as he lit the city around his palace ablaze.

That was the feeling Howard was experiencing as he watched Chu-e pour gasoline onto the complex web that was Howard's museum social group, before the former Underboss tossed a match to burn it all to cinders. The gazes of the servers, the glare from the coworker. Several sets of eyes on him began to judge and form theories, like a mediocre archaeologist who refused to heed new evidence.

"I'll... tell you later. See you in an hour." Howard watched longingly as his coworker left, and Howard was left to converse with this person. Man, woman, it didn't matter. He was going to tie a cinder block to their ankle and punt them into the ocean.

The archaeologist took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Out of every Rocket, Chu-e was the one Howard hated the most. They were a stalker, cruel, and violet. Worst of all, they had given up on everything. Everything. In an organization where every person had an agenda and dream to fill, Chu-e had none.

He was just... empty. Their first chat had proved that. This was a dead man walking. Howard hated that. Without a dream, a person was nothing.

"We had a date?" Howard's frown deepened as he pondered his calendar. There was definitely nothing set for today. The ticket Chu-e had sent remained under several stacks of unsigned documents, forgotten. After a moment, the Rocket Admin's eye returned to Chu-e. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Wait. No. This was wrong.

"I'm so... aghast. Why. Are. You. Here?" Howard hissed at the man, face pressing against his. "You're publicly known. Forget the date, I could get arrested for being here. You're gonna-"

He peered at the servers attempting to eavesdrop. He gave a winning smile and waved.

"Nothing to see! We're just having a spat!" Howard put his arm around Chu-e and guided him away. "Ha ha! What the fuck are you thinking?" His cheerful voice slipped into one dripping with violence.

---

Chu-e Choi

Howard let out a breathy laugh that seemed half mad.

"I don't even have a computer in my office that works properly. You think I'm going to 'look you up?' If you're so incessant on stalking me, you know I'm too busy to do so. That'd require me to give a shit about you."

Which he did not. This man was utter trash, not worthy to be picked up and tossed into a rubbish bin. Rocket had no need for hunks of meat that had forgotten what it was like to live. The average League politician would claim that Rocket was full of heartless monsters. To an extent, that was correct. Howard agreed with that analysis.

Yet Rocket was far more. It was passion made manifest. Rocket did not order its members to commit atrocities because there was no emotion, but because there was an excess. Each member had been scorned by something or someone, and they acted out in rage in order to correct that error.

Chu-e did not. There was no heart there. Only darkness and contempt. Howard would never respect this individual.

Yet Chu-e was interested in him. He wanted to know why, but it'd require him to think of that one night. That one night was a mistake, and Howard regretted it.

"How so?" He followed Chu-e's gaze to the story. Naturally, his gaze lingered on the Darkrai. Walsh's Darkrai was constantly in the shadows, watching. Howard wondered if Walsh had it stalk the various members of Rocket to ensure they weren't whispering of defection.

It seemed like something the Rocket Boss would do.

"It's a little tropey, but it's generic marketing to get people to buy Candy Applins from the museum's gift shop."

---

Chu-e Choi

"Oral storytelling is the oldest form of storytelling, but it's impossible to chronicle. All we can do is trust in our ancestors to tell it properly, and to not modify it." Tales were always modified. Especially verbal ones that were told to amuse and instruct. People were always making modifications to make the tale better fit present circumstances.

It was unfathomably frustrating. Howard preferred the written form of history, which could be referenced and verified. He had a respect for spoken stories, though. In the end, it was a historian's duty to pluck fact from fiction and create a complete tale.

"I've never heard that version. Thanks for telling me." A formality, and not genuine gratitude. Chu-e would never receive that from him. "It's strange to think it could live in our shadows, even now. Walsh could be anywhere."

If he didn't know any better, Howard would've suspected Chu-e of being Walsh in disguise. Howard suspected that the Rocket Boss had more important things to do, though.

"If enough people believe in the bastardization, it becomes the genuine article in the eyes of the masses. It makes finding the truth difficult. Stories should be passed down for the lessons they tell. When the story is modified, the lesson is lost. What's the point, after that?"

---

Chu-e Choi

"Wouldn't that be a sight?" Howard let out a bark of laughter as he regarded the cutout again.

Darkrai and Walsh were omnipresent. They could be anywhere, anyplace, anytime. Apparently, Walsh could also take the faces of other people. The spider would weave his web, and catch as many flies as it desired. When those flies whispered secrets as they quivered in the web, the spider feasted on those with gusto.

Walsh could be anywhere, anyone. He could be Chu-e, projecting a desire to jump Dahlia's bones. That terrified Howard. If the boss got a word of defection, Howard and Chu-e would meet under very different circumstances, and the former Underboss's dead eyes would become an object of fear rather than scorn.

His eye flicked to Chu-e's face as the dying man dared to express an emotion.

"They'll hopefully decide that my history book is boring when they teach it to middle schoolers." He didn't want to elaborate. It scratched too close to the truth, to a shadow he didn't want to trust. "Wise men record history, and strong men write it. You were neither, it seems."

The contempt in his voice could melt lead.

"I'll simply become so important that nobody will dare to forget me."

---

Chu-e Choi

"And you sit at the pillar of mediocrity, a towering legacy of how far one can fall."

Despite that, the man smiled at Chu-e. It was a thin one, filled to the brim with utter loathing. Howard could not understand this man. No, it was that he refused to. Yet there was something there that Howard could understand.

Chu-e had a story too.

"When this war is over, there will be winners and there will be losers. Someone has to chronicle it. Every single legacy, every single moment. I need the truth, and I need to persist."

A non-answer and an avoidance. If he had an answer, it wasn't for Chu-e to know. It was a question that a man with no dream had no right to hear. It was a question that only someone who wanted to live would ever hear pass Howard's lips.

"You're the pinnacle of romanticism. Hounding me. Harassing me at work. Sending me vile shit." They're words that he'd never utter these in front of any other colleague. If he spoke a word of this to one of the other admins or underbosses, they'd have his head on a spike.

"What do you want, Chu-e?"

---

Chu-e Choi

It was like running around in circles. Each time he asked the question, Chu-e danced away. An eternal waltz that did little but leave Howard infuriated and with more questions. The lack of dignity, the lack of bravado, the lack of anything in those eyes. It was like any light that had once been there had been drained away for something else.

Light, life, love. There was nothing even remotely enjoyable in this man's life. He could try to siphon what he could from Howard, but he would never be satisfied.

"Enough!" Howard hissed as he looked over his shoulder, looking for his coworker. As he did so, he guided Chu-e towards a secluded part of the gift shop. Nobody bought collectible pens anymore. When he was sure they were alone, Howard scowled. "Curious about... what? If you read my file, you know everything there is to know. I am not interesting."

He would strive to keep it that way. He did not need Rocket finding out that he whispered 'treason' behind everyone's back. It wouldn't end well for the Rocket Admin.

"What're you looking for?" His eye blazed with rage, so comparable to the Aerodactyls and the various prehistoric Pokémon he was so fond over. There was light in his gaze, a light of passion that Chu-e had lost. Howard's eye looked on, and it hated what it saw.

"Or lose your chance."

---

Chu-e Choi