The suit made him stand out like a sore thumb. Howard didn't even know why he had bothered to wear it. Tempest Quinn hated wearing suits. He was the definition of 'business casual'. It was an ironic twist, given his husband's constant need for attire due to his position.

Yet everything felt wrong, as he looked in on a ceremony he had no right to partake in. The death of a Hoyeon was an ancient affair, with traditions so steepled in repetition that to break from them was to forget the purpose entirely.

Howard didn't get close. He stayed on the outside. This was where he belonged, after all.

"No need. I've already seen Underboss Quinn." Howard looked down at Clover, his hair blowing past his sole remaining eye. "I know a few of these people, actually. Temp introduced me."

A lie.

"I'm about to leave, actually."

---

clover matamata

Temp had mentioned the seawater rite to him, once. That only made the admin feel worse. In the folds of his suit pocket, Howard's hands had clenched into fists as the memories flashed in his mind.

Hoyeon culture had been forgotten by most. Pacifidlog Town's history was not as exalted as the Draconids of the same time, but that did not change the fact that Howard strove to incorporate as much of the world's dying memories into himself as possible. It was the only way to ensure that it was never forgotten.

"I'm not that hungry, Clover. You should get some for yourself, though." He squeezed the young Hoyeon's shoulders, his hands emerging from his suit pockets like a den of buried snakes. "And as for the ceremony..."

Howard shrugged and removed his hands.

"Temp and I were never really that close."

---

clover matamata

"Because I'm incapable of lying."

His heart broke in half as he said it. It would, if the hollow vessel baptized in Dynergy had any iota of one to begin with. Yet even without that important piece, the admin still remembered the Ultra Deep Sea and how Tempest Quinn and Cillian Quinn had damned him to drown in a sea of shadows and monsters.

He never forgot Temp's face as he told Howard that he'd do it again for Cillian.

"Temp was strong. He loved everyone on this side and hated everyone on the other side. He loved you Clover." Howard blinked once. "That doesn't mean that he loved me."

He does not lie, but that doesn't mean that the admin couldn't misdirect. Clover didn't need to know that Tempest Quinn was a monster, nor did he need to know about Yveltal or the Ultra Deep Sea. Those experiences would paint a different picture of Tempest Quinn.

Rather than defile Clover's hero, he'd take that blame onto himself.

"It's a long story."

---

clover matamata

"Good question." Howard closed his eye. "I don't really know."

Deep in his soul, he knew the reason, but that reason would be forced to curl up and die until the admin could finally admit the reason aloud. He had originally come to pay his respects, but as soon as he had stepped foot in this small town, fear had bubbled to the surface.

He was afraid.

Yet he was still here.

Whatever that meant, Howard didn't want to know. All he knew was that it wouldn't change the fact that he couldn't go in and see another hint of Tempest Quinn.

"To show my support, I suppose. To prove that, in the end, Team Rocket cared about him. He deserves that much."

---

clover matamata

"You're right." He nodded, lip trembling as he did so. "I should."

This was how it was meant to be. Another sacrifice piled on top of the mountain that he had already made. He had given much, and he had little left to give. Yet if he could make Clover smile at the memory of Temp in exchange for sneering at the Rocket Admin, Howard would take that trade.

Why? He didn't even like Temp. He hated him. Temp had left him to die.

"I'll see you at headquarters, Clover. Enjoy yourself." Howard turned and left, his suit an anomaly in a sea of mourning.

And eventually, he would meet a woman named Alina Hamako who would help him honor Tempest Quinn's memory in his own way.

---

clover matamata