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wallylake · 20 days

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Return to Sender

(Short Drabble) Nanu is tired of hiding, and Looker is tired of his bullshit. Both of them are in the wrong, and both of them are suffering the same trauma.

A little after midnight, Sushi High Roller’s cacophony of bar ambience was only just now beginning to die down. However, the hiss of hot oil and chatter amongst the tipsy patrons that yet remain is hardly a softer sound. Usually Nanu can tolerate this noise, but tonight he was grumbling curses under his breath as he tried to massage his temple. The lights were of no help either, and he craved the dark solitude of the empty Po Town police station.

But he can’t go ‘home’ quite yet, even after his meeting with Anabel being so short and awkward. She had paid for her portion of the meal when the sun was still high in the sky and departed for who knows where, who cares. Having declined giving her any sort of number or way to contact him, all she left behind was a written note:

‘Happy to see you again! :) - Anabel’

It remained there, untouched. He’ll put it in his pocket. Eventually.

What was he waiting for, anyway? The decision to seek her out again stirred over and over in his mind, but that opportunity to go over important words left unsaid was far gone. Interpol agent 000 wouldn’t have clammed up the way he did. He would have spoken bluntly over just what and how Interpol fucked them both over with. Instead, a tired, bitter, aching old man barely got through a normal conversation that he felt continuously detached from. Anabel’s pitying, disappointed gaze burned a hole into his memory.

He had been working with children for a long while that he had forgotten Anabel was a toughened woman approaching or already in her 30s. He couldn’t remember a voice that wasn’t patronizing, so everything he needed to say to her became trapped in his throat.

The scraping of the bar chair next to him was like a deafening sound in an already loud bar.

There he is.

Nanu took another swig of his whiskey and kept his eyes averted. Usually it is an act of dominance to not be the initiator of confrontation, and yet a part of him felt a new, meek desire to pretend to be senile and incoherent to avoid it entirely.

He only felt Looker’s radiating anger grow hotter next to him.

“Zeroes.” Gotta hand it to the rookie, he can hide the venom in his words with respect so well.

“… Don’t use that name in public.” Nanu croaked out, voice dry from alcohol and lack of use. “Guy’s dead, anyway.”

A curt snort. Nanu’s grip on his drink tightened.

“Clearly.” Looker waved off to the bartender now in front of him, just mouthing out ‘water.’ “Could you’d have been just the least bit nicer to Anabel— she thinks that she’s made you very upset.”

Nanu finally turned a glance to his side, crimson eyes a sullen glare.

Looker was facing him directly. Back straight. Eyebrows deeply furrowed. A full on scowl directed at his once superior. Gone were the days when this man, though taller, was almost permanently hunched over and puppy-eyed, always hoping to please and to never disappoint. And now, though both sitting down, Nanu felt an unfamiliar, hateful sense of being so miserably small in his presence.

“She’ll get over it. You both should’ve known by now I’m not good company.”

Looker pinched the bridge of his nose. A glass of water was handed over to him in which he returned with a short nod and an inaudible ‘thank you.’ He exhaled, eyes closed, probably digging through his mind to figure out what to say.

Nanu grew impatient.

“Yeah. I didn’t tell her either.” A pause, choosing to lubricate his gullet with more whiskey. “Go on. Fucking mock me for it as if you’re any better. Remind me of what I promised at the Floating Restaurant— won’t change a damn thing.”

Looker stayed quiet. Paradoxical; the alcohol tonight making Nanu the talkative one while Looker was stone cold.

“Of course it won’t.” The detective’s voice was firm and clear. “Because now I know it’s why you left.”

The Kahuna sneered. He raised his glass again, only to roll the ice within it. But Looker was right; Nanu has had plenty of missed opportunities to talk to Anabel during the time he was watching her quickly climb the ranks.

“… Nanu, I’m not here to mock you—”

“You’re a bad liar, 100KR.”

“Not when we both don’t want to hurt her with something so—“

The elder officer finally turned himself fully to face his inferior.

“And surely this ‘bodyguard’ method of yours is keeping her safe, right? Where the fuck is Croagunk? Who the fuck put you back on UB work? Yeah I feel real at ease that Anabel is choosing to work with the guy who apparently can’t keep one thing alive—“

“ENOUGH.”

Looker slammed both his hands on the bar, his glass and ice shivering from the impact. The chair behind him screeched from Looker raising himself to full height. The formal composure he was keeping out of respect was breaking with the redness in his face, his breathing intensified. The light fixture behind his head casted a dark shadow to his expression; provoked, irate. Hurt.

For the longest time, Nanu found a dark comfort seeing the pain behind those dark grey eyes. He wanted his rookie to feel that weight on his shoulders. He wanted him to never forget the dressing down given a decade ago for the catastrophic failure that came with a permanent cost. Nanu’s said words he never, ever truly meant— a slowly constricting, consuming regret that at that time, it felt better to say ‘It should have been you.’

But now, the Kahuna looked into his ex-subordinate’s eyes, and he only saw his own reflection staring back.

Looker put a hand to his chest, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. In, and out. Breath shuddering as he sat back down onto his seat. His head hung low in shame after causing a bit of a scene. The rest of the restaurant barely had much of a reaction. Looker swallowed dryly, before remembering his own drink laid before him.

The whiskey wasn’t fairing well in Nanu’s stomach. He turned away from his companion— venting out his grievances just felt disgusting now instead of relieving. It came in flashes: his failed Rocket heist. A partner dying in his arms. Leading his team only to get critically injured en masse from an ambush. Every and all baggage that he dealt by condemning someone else. Someone who he could pretend was a younger Agent 000.

“… Working with Anabel. Made me remember something– about that day.”

“KR—“

“It’s my damn turn to talk, sir.” Looker’s voice, weary as it now was, cut through like daggers.

The detective continued. “Glutton trashed against the walls, threatening to cause a cave-in after we had left it half blinded. I still remember the roars like scraping metal machinery and glass…”

“By the time my ears stopped ringing, it wasn’t screaming anymore. It couldn’t scream anymore. I found it digging into the corner of the cave, curled up like a Togedemaru when predators won’t leave it alone, and I asked myself for the first time why we were sent with full orders to kill something we’ve never seen before.”

The vision was clear as day ten years later. Nanu recalled a thick smell of iron in the air.

“I-I. I couldn’t do it. I recalled my… Pokémon. I tried signaling a retreat, I considered throwing one of my spare Pokéballs, maybe calling for backup, anything.”

“KR, I told you to take the shot.”

“And I asked of you to stand down.” Looker interrupted. “While you ordered Krookodile to attack it.”

The beast released a guttural scream. The reptile Pokémon’s claws dug deep into its already wounded skin, and it fled from its hiding spot. An animal cornered will seek out any escape out of desperation. An animal cornered will do anything it can to survive, retreating to something of a familiar, comforting scent.

“… ___. She felt like a safe Wormhole home, Nanu. And we both didn’t know.”

Nanu can’t seem to remember ___’s face anymore. Or her remains. All that was left were flashes of white and red, and suddenly being at Poni beach; Looker hunched over an unknown purple haired woman that had washed ashore.

“… Do you know how many we’ve successfully contained after the new Task Force?” Looker traced a number on the bar table with his pointer finger, “Twenty-three. Twenty-three out of twenty-three recorded breaches. Sometimes the chase is delayed, but every mission has ended in success. We are ordered to kill or contain— whichever is the most possible. I thought I would… Have had to kill every single one that came through the rift. That this was the only way after how wrong I was before. To keep the Chief–to keep everyone alive.”

Looker inhaled deeply. “I never wanted to return to Beast work, even more so when I saw Anabel again as my boss… It was not until the Ultra Ball hit the ground with a final locking ‘click’ that she said something that vindicated what I felt so long ago– they were only scared, wild animals; only dangerous when provoked beyond their limit.”

There was a prevailing bitter taste in Nanu’s mouth, whether it be the whiskey or having bitten the inside of his mouth from clenching his teeth so hard. Despite everything he had said or felt before, he cannot deny how much Looker has remained one of the only Interpol names deemed trustworthy. He holds his error as an ever looming burden, yet greatly relies on him to always do the right thing. He scolds the younger agent for overcomplicating and stumbling over a very difficult situation pertaining to Anabel’s secret Faller status, yet the elder retiree had abandoned both Looker and Anabel to handle that on their own. Not like he couldn't make a decision on whether allowing someone to continue to passionately work for an agency that used someone like her before, or tell her just how lost and alone she is with no one to help and absolutely no way to travel home. Keep it hidden how much one is risking their life or give them absolutely no life left to live for: Nanu chose to run.

It was clear that the Chief and Detective have been excelling far beyond these tired old bones, especially at the tail end of his service. On a better day, one not spent drowning in self pity, he’d admit to being proud.

“... I will never be proud of how much I’ve failed, sir. Croagunk has passed away.”

Nanu turned once more to his younger colleague. He wanted to say something, yet nothing came from him. Looker didn't look in his direction once; the man was adjusting his coat and finishing his glass. The detective stood up from the bar, nodding another thank you to the bartender and returning his chair to its place underneath the counter.

“… I’m going to tell Anabel everything, the higher ups be damned, and when I do,” He straightened the wrinkles in his duster coat, “You’ll be responsible for yourself, and tell her exactly why we didn’t hear from you for years.”

“Fuck off, KR…”

“Have a good night, Zeroes.”

Looker turned on his heel and walked out the doorway out into the cool Alolan night. All Nanu saw was the back of the man’s head. He groaned, running his hand through his fully grey hair, staying at his seat for a good long while as the ice melted in both glasses.

Whiskey left unfinished, he placed enough money on the table right beside Anabel’s leftover note, and finally left for the rundown station he called home.

#i love this so much #omg omgomgomg #its so coool #fanfic #detective looker #pokemon nanu #pokemon looker

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