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ardent
The first thing he noticed was the off-white ceiling and plain walls. It didn't occur to him that there was anything weird about that for a minute or so, instead he sat up, glancing around at the unfamiliar room. The bed he was lying in wasn't particularly hard or soft - not as comfy as the one at Hope's Peak, but it wasn't uncomfortable either - and there was a desk beside the bed with a set of clothes, a note, and two red-and-white balls. Mondo reached for one of the balls without thinking, only stopping himself when his memories of the previous days came flooding back like a tidal wave.
Fujisaki. How could he forget, even for a moment? Fujisaki had come to him, seeking help, expressing a desire to become stronger, and what had he done? He'd blacked out. No, that wasn't right - he'd blacked out and killed the kid. Mondo's fists clenched and he drew his hand back. That's right, then there had been a trial, just like the first time someone was found murdered in Hope's Peak Academy. Monobear had called them all down there and they had gone over the evidence. Well, if by "they" he meant Naegi, Kirigiri, and that jackass Togami. First they had outed Fukawa as Genocider Syo, then they'd blamed Togami for altering the crime scene, and then...
...And then the truth had come out. If he hadn't been so careless with what he was saying, Fujisaki's secret would have been safe and he wouldn't have hurt Ishimaru, his aniki. Of course he had noticed the way Ishimaru reacted - the screaming, the denial, the tears, the desperation - and Ishimaru had voted for someone else. Even when he had acknowledged his defeat, Ishimaru hadn't. Ishimaru had believed in him until the very end - but he shouldn't have. He had betrayed not only Fujisaki's trust, but Ishimaru's as well.
It was a good thing he hadn't gotten away with murder though. Mondo doubted he could have lived with himself if he had. Even the execution wasn't that bad - from what little he remembered of it. It could have been worse; he could have been chained to a signpost and bludgeoned to death by millions of baseballs. He still had nightmares about Leon's death. He didn't even know Leon all that well. No, Mondo's death had been relatively quick and he'd gotten to ride a motorcycle one last time. There was something freeing about that, something he doubted he could ever really put into words. His last action had been his favorite. Maybe that was suiting.
So why was he here? Why was he waking up? He was dead, he was sure of that. He was equally sure that this wasn't Hope's Peak. There weren't any windows in the room, which meant that he could be underground, but he doubted Monobear would have let him live after the murder. He hadn't gotten away with it; he hadn't "graduated." So where was he?
Mondo finally got up, snatching the note off the top of the clothes folded on the desk. There was a large, red "R" on the shirt front, but Mondo ignored that for the time being to scan the note. Apparently he was now working for an organization known as "Team Rocket." That title meant nothing to him and he set the note aside, picking up the clothes next. It was a very standard uniform that looked like it would be way too tight-fitting for his taste and Mondo set that aside as well. Finally, he picked up the red-and-white balls, turning them in his hands curiously. He wasn't a Super High-School Level Baseball Player, but he might be able to use them as weapons if he needed to. He tucked those in his pocket and turned to the door. He expected it to be locked. It wasn't.
The hallway was just as nondescript as the room, though the ceilings were a bit low for his liking. Mondo picked a direction at random and started down the hallway, absently wondering if he could find some way back outside. It felt like it had been a long time since he had seen the sun.
He was stopped on his way by a shorter, scrawny man wearing that uniform (yeah, it definitely looked like it would have been too tight on him). The man frowned at him and pointed one gloved finger down the opposite hallway. "You should be heading to your first day of training! Why aren't you in uniform?"
"Fuck off," Mondo replied, shoving the smaller man out of his way. The guy definitely looked older, so he could assume that this wasn't the school. No one else was in the school after all, right? Just the fifteen of them - well, eleven of them now (did he even count anymore?) - and the person controlling Monobear. Mondo brushed that thought aside; this wasn't the school. That was what he would focus on.
He didn't find his way out. His sense of direction had always been good, but that was on the roads, in the open air. He had always gotten turned around in Hope's Peak as well, but never like this. He couldn't believe he'd managed to wander in a circle, finding himself back in front of the room he'd woken up in. Maybe this was some kind of trick; he couldn't move on until he'd gone to his first day of "training" or whatever.
The man in the Rocket uniform came walking down that hallway at just that moment. "Gotten yourself lost, huh?" He sneered. "Just follow this hallway and hook a left. The training facility's there. You'll meet the other new recruits and get started on your two weeks of training."
Two weeks? Like hell he was going to hang around for that long. Mondo rolled his eyes and followed the man's directions, ignoring the shout for him to get back and change his clothes.
The training facility was more decorated than the hallways or the room, and well-lit at that. There were several other young men (wearing that hideous uniform), all gathered in the center of the room, talking quietly. It looked like the instructor hadn't shown up yet. Mondo was tempted to leave, but this might be his best chance to get information on this place. He frowned for a moment, before walking up to join the others. He stood at least a head taller than them, which made him stick out even worse than the clothes he was wearing. Not that he cared.
"What's this "training" gonna consist of anyway?"
None of the other men seemed to know, and Mondo began to wonder just how badly things were going to go. It wasn't like it could be any worse than Enoshima being stabbed through by spears in the gym, right?
Fujisaki. How could he forget, even for a moment? Fujisaki had come to him, seeking help, expressing a desire to become stronger, and what had he done? He'd blacked out. No, that wasn't right - he'd blacked out and killed the kid. Mondo's fists clenched and he drew his hand back. That's right, then there had been a trial, just like the first time someone was found murdered in Hope's Peak Academy. Monobear had called them all down there and they had gone over the evidence. Well, if by "they" he meant Naegi, Kirigiri, and that jackass Togami. First they had outed Fukawa as Genocider Syo, then they'd blamed Togami for altering the crime scene, and then...
...And then the truth had come out. If he hadn't been so careless with what he was saying, Fujisaki's secret would have been safe and he wouldn't have hurt Ishimaru, his aniki. Of course he had noticed the way Ishimaru reacted - the screaming, the denial, the tears, the desperation - and Ishimaru had voted for someone else. Even when he had acknowledged his defeat, Ishimaru hadn't. Ishimaru had believed in him until the very end - but he shouldn't have. He had betrayed not only Fujisaki's trust, but Ishimaru's as well.
It was a good thing he hadn't gotten away with murder though. Mondo doubted he could have lived with himself if he had. Even the execution wasn't that bad - from what little he remembered of it. It could have been worse; he could have been chained to a signpost and bludgeoned to death by millions of baseballs. He still had nightmares about Leon's death. He didn't even know Leon all that well. No, Mondo's death had been relatively quick and he'd gotten to ride a motorcycle one last time. There was something freeing about that, something he doubted he could ever really put into words. His last action had been his favorite. Maybe that was suiting.
So why was he here? Why was he waking up? He was dead, he was sure of that. He was equally sure that this wasn't Hope's Peak. There weren't any windows in the room, which meant that he could be underground, but he doubted Monobear would have let him live after the murder. He hadn't gotten away with it; he hadn't "graduated." So where was he?
Mondo finally got up, snatching the note off the top of the clothes folded on the desk. There was a large, red "R" on the shirt front, but Mondo ignored that for the time being to scan the note. Apparently he was now working for an organization known as "Team Rocket." That title meant nothing to him and he set the note aside, picking up the clothes next. It was a very standard uniform that looked like it would be way too tight-fitting for his taste and Mondo set that aside as well. Finally, he picked up the red-and-white balls, turning them in his hands curiously. He wasn't a Super High-School Level Baseball Player, but he might be able to use them as weapons if he needed to. He tucked those in his pocket and turned to the door. He expected it to be locked. It wasn't.
The hallway was just as nondescript as the room, though the ceilings were a bit low for his liking. Mondo picked a direction at random and started down the hallway, absently wondering if he could find some way back outside. It felt like it had been a long time since he had seen the sun.
He was stopped on his way by a shorter, scrawny man wearing that uniform (yeah, it definitely looked like it would have been too tight on him). The man frowned at him and pointed one gloved finger down the opposite hallway. "You should be heading to your first day of training! Why aren't you in uniform?"
"Fuck off," Mondo replied, shoving the smaller man out of his way. The guy definitely looked older, so he could assume that this wasn't the school. No one else was in the school after all, right? Just the fifteen of them - well, eleven of them now (did he even count anymore?) - and the person controlling Monobear. Mondo brushed that thought aside; this wasn't the school. That was what he would focus on.
He didn't find his way out. His sense of direction had always been good, but that was on the roads, in the open air. He had always gotten turned around in Hope's Peak as well, but never like this. He couldn't believe he'd managed to wander in a circle, finding himself back in front of the room he'd woken up in. Maybe this was some kind of trick; he couldn't move on until he'd gone to his first day of "training" or whatever.
The man in the Rocket uniform came walking down that hallway at just that moment. "Gotten yourself lost, huh?" He sneered. "Just follow this hallway and hook a left. The training facility's there. You'll meet the other new recruits and get started on your two weeks of training."
Two weeks? Like hell he was going to hang around for that long. Mondo rolled his eyes and followed the man's directions, ignoring the shout for him to get back and change his clothes.
The training facility was more decorated than the hallways or the room, and well-lit at that. There were several other young men (wearing that hideous uniform), all gathered in the center of the room, talking quietly. It looked like the instructor hadn't shown up yet. Mondo was tempted to leave, but this might be his best chance to get information on this place. He frowned for a moment, before walking up to join the others. He stood at least a head taller than them, which made him stick out even worse than the clothes he was wearing. Not that he cared.
"What's this "training" gonna consist of anyway?"
None of the other men seemed to know, and Mondo began to wonder just how badly things were going to go. It wasn't like it could be any worse than Enoshima being stabbed through by spears in the gym, right?

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Like killing someone. The thought nearly made Mondo wince.
"There's gotta be some other way to get to that machine. If we need to steal, leave that to me, alright? You're the Super High-School Level Hall Monitor, you shouldn't be doing anything that's against your code of conduct, right?"
Something about this was bothering him deeply, but Mondo couldn't put his finger on it. What he did know was that he felt the need to interfere, to help out with this organization - which he knew nothing about - just so Ishimaru wouldn't have to sacrifice his reputation. But that's what brothers did for each other, right?
...Besides, he was pretty sure that Ishimaru would make a fucking awful thief.
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However, his next statements didn't sit well with Ishimaru, either, though it was for a different reason entirely.
"Aniki..." There wasn't much of a way for him to articulate it, no way to really explain his point satisfactorily; it didn't help that Mondo seemed to be insisting that this was something he shouldn't have been doing in the first place. Why didn't he understand that it was necessary? "It's also my job as the Super High-School Level Hall Monitor to protect all of you, isn't it? What I'm doing doesn't oppose my principles. The code of conduct, perhaps, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made!"
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The idea of Ishimaru consciously deciding to ignore the code of conduct really bothered Mondo. He didn't want to see his friend do that. He knew how important those rules and regulations were to Ishimaru, and while it was nice to know that their classmates were even more important, he didn't see any reason why this wouldn't work. He could take on the illegal jobs and Ishimaru could continue working within the organization without compromising his own (very strict) set of rules. Things would work out just fine, right?
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"I can't simply...stop what I'm doing just yet, you aren't nearly - " strong enough and even though that wasn't exactly what he meant, even though it was just terminology used around here, Ishimaru could see the problem with it before it slipped all the way out; he was quick to amend the sentence, though it was plain from his expression that he was aware of the error. "...experienced enough within the organization. You haven't even completed training yet. If I were to hand over all of my duties now, there would be consequences for both of us."
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"I'll complete training and you can help me get used to what's expected of me here. I learn pretty quickly, you know. It shouldn't take me too long to get used to this world and I'm already pretty experienced when it comes to theft and shit. So yeah you... might need to keep it up for a bit longer, but I promise you, I'll take that off your hands. You won't have to worry about that shit again, alright? I promise I'll take care of this for you, you can count on me."
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Ugh.
"Then I'll take you out tonight, so I can show you what I've been doing. If you're that determined to take it up, I want you to see it first. No one will be harmed by what we do. You will meet me in the lobby at eight tonight so that we can do this. Your normal clothing will be fine for now, no uniform required. Do you understand?"
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"We'll make this work, alright?"
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Despite the wide grin, he did mean it. Ishimaru was strong, yes, but he also could be a little dense. At least with Mondo around they wouldn't have to worry about that! He could protect Ishimaru if it came to that - while he didn't doubt what his aniki said, he couldn't adjust to the idea that there were creatures who would fight his battles for him. His fists were a perfectly good weapon back home, why would it be any different here?
It hadn't occurred to him that Ishimaru really could take care of himself here with his Pokémon. But maybe that would come to him eventually.
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"I...that isn't necessary, aniki, it's..."
Exactly what 'it' was seemed to be proving a bit too difficult for him to put into words, however; he shook his head a bit.
"...do you mean that?"
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He reached out to ruffle Ishimaru's hair affectionately. "C'mon, don't give me that look! I care about you a lot, you know. I wouldn't be calling you my 'brother' if I didn't! Bonds of brothership should be taken seriously!"
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Ishimaru hesitated at that, though he didn't try to pull away from that hand in his hair; he just sort of stood there twitching a little, and it was probably fairly obvious that he was trying not to cry. There was something about it that was completely overwhelming, for a reason he couldn't understand; his breathing was a bit jagged, but he managed to get control over himself before the actual crying started.
"...I have to go report our planned activities for the evening, so those in charge will know where I've gone! You're free to do as you see fit until then - should you find yourself lost I can be reached over that device we have, there's a private network for our work that's easy enough to access! Send me a message there, should you need me; otherwise I'll meet you this evening.
"It's...it's good to see you again, brother!"
Once that was out there, however, he turned to leave immediately, though that really wasn't anything new; he'd always been like that to some extent.
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"Yeah, alright. I'm gonna take a look around the city, get familiarized with it, you know. Maybe check out the areas outside of town, I dunno. Ah, but I guess I should go get that device first, huh?" He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in an almost embarrassed fashion. "It's good to see you again, and I'll see you at eight. Promise I won't be late!" Though judging from the mocking tone, he fully intended to be, just to push Ishimaru's buttons a bit.
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Had it been anyone else, Ishimaru would have been annoyed and perfectly willing to threaten with a write-up to be delivered to their superiors if it happened again. But even if Ishimaru had always been of the opinion that there was no excuse for lateness, that it was irresponsible and set a bad precedent and at the very least it was really, really irritating, with Mondo it was somehow simply part of the game - they both knew that there wasn't any malice behind the button-pushing, that there wasn't any harm meant, and tonight, there wouldn't even be any harm done. Ishimaru had never been one to procrastinate, but he found himself perfectly willing to put off his task tonight for as long as he could, even if eight o'clock sharp saw him sitting on one of the vinyl couches in the lobby of the Radio Tower.
The couch was hard, clearly designed for aesthetics rather than comfort, and he was perched on the forward edge of it instead of leaning back fully; getting by in Johto had involved more changes of clothing than he'd experienced in his entire schooling career, and though the knee-high military-style boots were familiar, the rest of the outfit was simple and black in color, the usual armband gone. Ishimaru had yet to have one of his raids go badly, and this was going to be simple, with almost no chance of screwing it up. But just the same, there was no sense in taking chances by wearing something distinctive.
He was content to wait for now, his demeanor strangely subdued; he was toying with one of his Pokéballs between his hands, passing it back and forth in an easy, repetitive motion. This wasn't even going to be a proper raid; just something to prove a point. It would be simple; it was just a matter of keeping himself calm until Mondo arrived.
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Anyway, he arrived wearing the same outfit he'd worn earlier that day, pocketing the device as he came in. He held a hand up in greeting, approaching Ishimaru.
"Hey, aniki." He didn't apologize for being late; this was also part of the game. "You ready?" He wasn't entirely sure why, but something felt off somehow. Again, if it was that big of a deal, Ishimaru would tell him.
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And again, while there was very little shift in his voice, the usual strict tone lacing through his words, his expression was more than enough to make it plain that he was being facetious. "Did you like the city?"
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"The city's great! I was exploring the route to the south of the city. There are a fucking lot of those Po-kay-mon things out there! It's great to be outside again!"
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The light expression left him quickly, though, and he made his way back toward the door; back to business as usual. "We're going to be going back that way - do you remember where the Center is? The large building with the orange roof on it; are you familiar with it yet?"
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He followed Ishimaru's lead, keeping close to his friend. "So what's the plan, aniki?"
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The Center wasn't terribly far from the Radio Tower, and it was an odd hour for training so it was unlikely that anyone would be in there for the time being; just the same, Ishimaru pulled up short, stopping maybe half a block from it, out of view of the doors. "All I ask you to do is take these," he said, his hand falling back toward his belt, retrieving three of the Pokéballs stored there and holding them out to Mondo, "and act as though they're your own. When the woman behind the counter asks to assist you, hand them to her and ask her to heal them. This way you will get an idea of what it is I do, and no one will need to be harmed, nor will any real crime have taken place, since the creatures are my own. But I think it will be more than enough to illustrate my point."
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"Alright, pretend they're mine and get them healed. Got it. What am I supposed to be noticing, exactly?" He asked, taking the three Pokéballs from Ishimaru. Something in his gut was telling him that this was a bad idea, but it was Ishimaru. Sure he could be kind of dense and a bit dumb at times, but he meant well. He wouldn't do anything bad to Mondo. That feeling of unease wasn't fading though.
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The Pokémon Center was empty, as expected. The nurse greeted him cheerfully and Mondo handed over the three capsules. She set about healing them immediately, unaware of how closely Mondo was watching her. Nothing seemed odd here. Was she maybe a member of Team Rocket? It would be pretty easy to steal trainers' Pokémon while she was healing them; she could easily switch in an empty ball, right? But people would get suspicious really quickly and she'd be out of a job. So how exactly was Ishimaru planning on doing this?
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