Slush and fallen branches crunched under Marco’s feet as he walked along the human path, following Yaksha. Sage hovered beside him, struggling with the oddly shaped rain-shield every once in a while.

He expected every step to fill him with more and more dread. Which was the case for the first few minutes, but eventually the worst of that faded away. Not because of their mission somehow not being doomed anymore, but because it’d be a while until they got there.

His psychics could lead him in the dark reasonably well, but even they had their limit—such as the debris in his way, or anything smaller than trees for that matter. He took a sigh of relief once they’d finally climbed their way onto the path, its guidance much appreciated. It freed him from having to constantly probe his surroundings with his aura—he had to conserve his strength for what awaited them, after all.

But what awaited them, he wasn’t even sure of.

Anne mentioned several things to look out for once they arrived at the human settlement, but they were far from a comprehensive overview. He hoped her instructions for remaining disguised would prove sufficient, but even if they did, they wouldn’t help with actually finding what they were looking for.

Worries kept swirling around his mind as the group pushed through darkness, the thick clouds above them not letting any moonlight through. It was just them, the freezing rain, and the dirt path stretching into the distance, forever. A freezing purgatory; what laid on its other end was unknown. Wishful redemption? An almost certain damnation?

Marco didn’t know, and it terrified him.

His clothed body shuddered, the motion sudden enough for the Phantump beside him to notice, even despite the constant wind. His dimly glowing eyes turned to look at her once her twin pink pinpricks glanced at him in concern. He worried about spooking her for just a moment, the unpleasant thought only making him feel even colder than he already was. Oh well, he was never good with kids, just had to push on—

And then, he felt something small, warm, and spectral grab his gloved hand.

“~Mr. Marco?~” Sage asked, worry leaking into her voice.

The Gallade held her inky tendril of a hand with a couple of fingers, making her hover even closer to him as he gathered words. “^I’m here Sage, I’m here. Is something wrong?^”

“~I’m a bit cold, but I think I’m okay. Are you okay, Mr. Marco?~”

He hoped beyond hope Sage would remain okay throughout their entire ordeal, but if it ended like he had predicted, he doubted it’d be the case. His features narrowed, unseen, as he held her hand just that bit tighter, wishing he’d be able to protect her from the despair ahead. It was a feeble, downright childish wish, and he knew it well.

And yet, he still wished.

“^I’m just cold too, Sage. Don’t worry about me, sweetie,^” he mumbled out, focusing on maintaining his composure. Just because he wasn’t taking what awaited them the best, didn’t mean he had to make the Phantump concerned already—she didn’t deserve to have her innocence torn away. Not yet.

Trying to yank his thoughts away from that dark path, Marco instead focused on planning out what they’d do once they arrived at the human town. To his concern, Anne hadn’t given them many hints for navigating the massive settlement—she didn’t know how to either.

He remembered staring at her, stunned for a good few minutes back at Vivian’s tea shop once she’d told him that Sage’s town was easily twenty times the size of hers.

As much as the sheer scale of their undertaking chilled his spirits, he knew that the spirit beside him ought to be familiar with the place. It’d still be a while until they got there, but Marco figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask Sage for leads in advance.

“^So, Sage,^” he whispered, perking the spaced-out Phantump up, “^what does your home look like?^”

As Sage combed through her frayed memories, Marco focused on assisting her in holding the umbrella, not wanting it to distract her. Even with that telepathic assist, though, she remained silent for a while afterward, only prompting a disappointed sigh from the Banette ahead, lost to the din of rain.

To Marco’s concern, the more Sage thought about it, the more worried she grew. After a moment of internal conflict, the Gallade intervened once more, wanting to spare her that anxiety. “^Sage?^”

“~M-My house has a green roof, and... I-I don’t remember much else...^” 

Sage clung ever tighter to her umbrella, the strands of her damp wig shaking with her. Not an outcome either of the two wanted, but it was all they’d be getting for now. Yaksha was of half a mind to just call this whole doomed ordeal off, only stopping himself by remembering that they had to, else she’d just ask about it again. 

Marco just gritted his teeth and nodded.

It was very little to go off, but it was something. Besides, even if Sage couldn’t describe it in any richer detail than just the color of her roof, she still had to remember it, at least partially. If they had any luck, even the partial memory would be enough to let her recognize it once they passed by it. Sure, he wasn’t deluding himself that scouting an entire massive human town would be a quick task, but it was still possible, given enough time.

...

Assuming Sage’s house was still standing.

The worry about that no longer being the case stabbed Marco’s heart, almost making him trip. He hated even considering it, but he couldn’t dismiss it entirely—what if Sage’s house wasn’t around anymore? Or even worse, what if it still was, but her family had left in grief following her disappearance? Both outcomes were all too easy to imagine, providing all the fuel in the world for his imagination to torment him with.

He tried to remain strong despite that; he tried to distract himself; but the rainy night offered little in terms of distraction—

*growwWWWWLLL...*

Marco’s gaze snapped to the source of the sound in the dark without thinking, his body already taking steps toward the threat before he could even pay attention to what he’d just heard. Once his brain caught up, though, he stopped—and finally looked at what his psychics were trying to point out to him.

“Lumi?”

A pair of golden-red eyes emerged from the dark, taken aback by the words. Without skipping a moment, the Luxray they were attached to leaped from the brush beside his coworker—and looked at the group, confused.

“Marco? Good grief, why’d you dress yourself like a human?” Lumi grumbled at the Gallade’s antics, before following one tricky question with another. “And what are these two doing here? Isn’t this Phantump the wannabe human? Where’re ya taking them all?”

The growls comprising the Luxray’s words put the pair of ghosts on edge, incomprehensible and all the more intimidating for it. Sage scooted behind Marco as he gathered thoughts, trying to keep himself from leering at Lumi too hard. He succeeded at that, but only because of exhaustion, responding through gritted teeth. “^Yes, this is Sage; she used to be a human. She wants to return to her human family.^”

The Phantump whimpered at the ‘used to’ part of Marco’s answer. Lumi didn’t notice, looking up at the Gallade in stupefied disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

Yaksha had no idea what the Luxray had said exactly, but his dismissive tone, combined with Marco’s words moments prior, implied nothing good. The Banette glared at the Electric-type, his pink eyes glowing intensely enough to take Lumi aback once he glanced over.

Before either of them could go beyond just angry glares, Marco cut in, “^No Lumi, we’re not. She still wishes to go back to her family, and so we want to help her try.^” As much as the Gallade wanted to phrase it in a more concrete way, he couldn’t. There was no denying this was a pipe dream, more of a courtesy than a well-founded plan.

And the Luxray noticed.

“‘Try’, eh? You’re wasting your time, Marco, but I sure can’t stop you—guess you’ve got that in common with your sister. Well, good luck, I guess.”

Marco deflated as he watched the Luxray turn around and return to his usual scouting path; the resulting silence soon interrupted by Yaksha’s seething whisper. “~What did it say?~”

Sage looked up at the Gallade as she hovered out of her impromptu hiding spot, curious and afraid. Marco grasped her hand as he focused on passing the words just to Yaksha this time—no reason to worry Sage with them. “^Told us we’re wasting our time.^”

Yaksha’s anger soared at hearing that, anger at the Electric-type and himself alike. Of course they were doing this for a reason! There was no other way out of this but to have Sage find out the hard way that the human world would never accept her. Nothing would come of it; it only led to heartbreak, but it was necessary, goddammit! Nobody could avoid this pain, not even Sage! It had to have been true!

Because otherwise, it meant he wasn’t strong enough to save her from it. To save himself—

…

Too late to stop now.

“~Let’s keep going. Sage, c’mon.~”

---

The next couple of hours passed in silence—nature spoke for them.

With rain, with wind, with darkness so intense that even Sage bumped into some passing shrubbery a few times. Each time, Marco felt her spirits deflate just a bit, each anxious thought or unpleasant gust chipping away at her confidence. She was still hopeful, so much more so than the two adults combined—but her hope wasn’t impervious.

A part of Marco hoped that it’d chip away before they would make it to her past home, letting him avoid subjecting her to the heartbreak. The rest of him wanted to scream at not having anything to shut down that hopeless part of him with.

Any further internal struggle was interrupted by lights in the distance, at last. Flickering and unnaturally orange, the color he’d seen a fair bit of back in Anne’s village once the sun had set. Hideous if he had anything to say, but there must’ve been something to it with how keen humans were on using it—and with how much it soothed Sage to see, making her ask—

“~Are we getting there?~”

“~Looks like it,~” Yaksha replied, voice much more keen than usual. Marco didn’t pry, assuming the Banette was struggling with his thoughts just as much as he had—but that turned out to not be the case. “~Someone’s ahead, looking our way.~”

Marco nodded, wincing as he repeated Anne’s instructions from a few hours back and re-did the button over his front horn. Regrettably, the cold hasn’t dulled the associated discomfort at all—if anything; it got even worse, filling him with a coldness that didn’t care one iota about his Safeguard.

Onward, ever onward, towards the human in the distance.

“~Halt. Your ID, now,~” the stranger barked, eying them down as he stepped on the path before them. Marco cared about neither the contempt in his voice nor what had caused it, focusing entirely on his impossible demand.

“^Don’t have one.^”

The human’s eyes narrowed as he approached, letting Marco take a better look at the outfit. Dark, puffy top half with long sleeves, covered by a sleeveless garment in a bizarre shade of yellow with a few silver stripes. A belt of pouches and unidentified objects rested askew above his waist. His thoughts focused on one L-shaped object in particular, on his hip.

And on the Growlithe, just a few feet away, the leash tied to their collar in his offhand.

“~Well well well, loitering at night and keeping mons without a license, I see?~” the human snarled out, staring Marco down like a piece of meat. As he kept trying—and failing—to intimidate the Gallade, though, the Fire-type yanked on their leash, struggling to get back under the relative cover of a nearby conifer.

And that would not do.

“~Get over here, you dumb fucking dog!~” 

The human yanked at the leash, filling the dirt path with the Growlithe’s pained yelp. Marco already wasn’t planning on entertaining him any more than he had to, but this... warranted something more.

“~Now you, you fucking bum—*crack!*~”

Before he could finish his sentence, his empty fist was forced to smash into his jaw with all the strength he was capable of, toppling him over. To Marco’s surprise, said strength turned out to be remarkably little—not even enough to knock him out, merely punching a couple teeth out and bloodying his face.

Either way, not his concern anymore.

Without another word, the Gallade resumed his march, unceremoniously walking away as the human writhed in pain and slurred obscenities. The two ghosts soon caught up, shock and grim satisfaction on their minds, respectively.

And then, just a few hundred meters later, only awe and focus at all the lights.

The street they had stepped into was rather quaint by human standards, enough so for Sage to still be at peace, but it was still busier than Anne’s village. The rows of buildings on either side of the black, central road had many shapes and sizes, though most of them didn’t go further than two stories tall—the incredibly... pointy building in the distance aside, its details hard to make out in the uniform orange light.

As much as the sights overwhelmed him, Marco tried his best not to let them get to him, instead focusing on the minds he could sense. The—to his immense relief—very few minds sharing the streets with them, none of them having noticed him yet. Almost everyone was indoors by now, a good chunk of them asleep. Perfect.

And now, to figure out where to go next.

“^Sage, do you recognize this place?^” Marco asked, resuming his look around the street as the Phantump thought on. Some of the blocky buildings had their bottom halves turned into what seemed to be rooms full of... stuff, all bathed in a much brighter white light. They almost looked like pantries or storage buildings of sorts, though he suspected that wasn’t their actual use.

“~Ummm... n-no, I don’t remember this street.~” Sage mumbled out, made that bit uneasier by the realization.

Bugger. “^It’s okay, don’t worry Sage. Let’s keep going then.^” 

Marco grabbed Sage’s hand once more, smiling at her once she’d looked up at him. The gesture was made... somewhat ineffective by the scarf obscuring his expression, but the Phantump seemed to have gotten the gist, anyway.

Without another word, they stepped out of the side path and let the pavement guide them towards the lights in the distance. Sage kept looking around, trying her best to recall anything as Marco kept watch for any humans braving the freezing rain. To his relief, the few of them that approached head on would inevitably walk across the black road once they had spotted him and his company, giving them a wide berth.

Not out of the fear of him being a mon, thank goodness, but because of... something else he had a much harder time identifying. There was some fear in there, chiefly focused on the ghosts accompanying them, but it wasn’t everything—or even the dominant emotion. Disgust dominated, as perplexing for Gallade as it was convenient.

It freed enough of his attention to let him keep analyzing his surroundings even as they walked into a more densely inhabited part of the town. All around them, the metal contraptions with wheels, resting motionlessly on either the edges of the stone path, or on dirt lots that split off from the black road. More and more brightly lit, transparent rooms came and went, some of them with dozens upon dozens of colorful bottles on display.

Above them, light shone out of the windows they were passing by, fewer and fewer by the minute.

All of it dazzling, even overwhelming, especially once they had made it to part of the town with three or even four-story buildings all around them, but it wasn’t what caught Marco’s attention the most. Most of the sleeping humans were indoors, but not all, the few of them that appeared to be sleeping outside gave him a pause in particular.

He kept his curiosity in check for a while—at least until he sensed another of them right beside their route. After making sure nobody was watching, he peeked into the small alleyway beside them, the already-present reek suddenly intensifying tenfold. As loud as his nose screamed at being subjected to this, what his eyes saw overruled it.

Indeed, there was a human sleeping behind one of the massive metal containers full of junk and decaying food, covered in little more than some sodden brown plates. Cold, ill, alone. Marco had no idea what to make of it, couldn’t imagine what could’ve caused someone to end up in a situation like this. 

How could this happen? How could this be allowed?

He remembered, way back when he and Aria first showed up at their little village, long before they had a roof of their own, how they spent their first night there. Holly barely knew them; she hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences with them the entire day before but was still more than eager to lend them a roof. And so was Vivian, and so was Esther. Hell, even Mikiri, though hers was an offer they only ended up taking once.

It didn’t take more than a couple of weeks for them to have a small hut of their own. They helped build it, sure, but weren’t alone; almost half the village had contributed in whichever way they could. They didn’t end up needing that hut for long, not with Garret helping them out so much and Aria catching his eye, but they still had shelter, even if it ended up going to someone else once they had moved out.

And yet, this human was forced to sleep in the rain, surrounded by houses, surrounded by his fellow kin.

Why?

“~Mr. Marco?~” Sage whispered, hovering over to him before yelping at spotting the sleeping human just a few feet away.

However bad the sight’s implications were, the Gallade knew that it wasn’t what they were here for—it was time to keep going. “^I’m here Sage, I’m here. I just—just got distracted. Let’s keep going.^”

He knew it wouldn’t last long once he left, but Marco hoped the Safeguard would make the stranger’s night at least a bit easier.

As much as he wanted to refocus squarely on the task ahead, he couldn’t, remaining unnerved at the sight as they stepped into the densest, brightest part of the town. Many more people walked the streets here, enough so for some of them to brave passing by their group—though chiefly because of distraction and not courage. They felt cold, this place felt cold, the unnatural orange light washing over them felt cold.

And yet, they had to keep going.

“^Sage, do you recognize this place?^” Marco asked once more, sparing a glance at Yaksha as he did so. The Banette kept close to them, focusing on some of the brightly shining, cluttered rooms as if trying to make out their contents from a distance.

“~Mmmm... a-a bit. I-I remember it, but only a little...~” Sage admitted as she huddled to the Gallade, catching the attention of a passerby. 

It made them stop and stare at the Phantump as it, and the weird bum it trailed, walked away. That alone was… odd, but hearing it speak what they could swear was Unovan was even worse. It was almost too much to bear—and so they didn’t bear it, convincing themselves they had simply misheard.

No other answer made sense, after all.

As the group walked away from the stray human, Marco nodded weakly at Sage's words. They were getting a bit warmer at least, and he knew he had to focus on that, and not on the growing pit of worry inside him. “^Alright. Let’s keep going then.^”

Yaksha grumbled to himself as the group got going again, following the corner on the crossroad they had just arrived at. Some of what he was seeing tingled his memory, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to go off. Has he been here before?

To Marco’s relief, the street eventually thinned out, leaving them with fewer and fewer prying eyes to worry about. It was a rather fleeting reassurance, though, especially once he’d noticed Sage growing less and less certain of where they were as they kept going.

One of the moving metal boxes honking at him when he’d accidentally veered onto the black road while lost in thought didn’t help his anxiety any, either.

Despite the bit of progress they had made earlier with the busy area, it felt like they were back to absolutely nothing, not a single shred of idea of where to even go. As hard as Marco tried to remain calm about this, it got harder and harder with each passing minute, with each passing street that only brought on further confusion inside the Phantump’s little mind.

He had to do something, and he had to do it soon.

“^Are you sure you don’t remember anything except for the green roof, Sage?^” 

Some of his exasperated stress leaked through to his mental voice despite his best efforts. It took him all the willpower he could muster to not immediately start kicking himself once Sage noticed his fouling mood, his tone only sparking further anxiety.

“~N-no, I-I really don’t, I promise!~” she pleaded, the worry in her voice sparking yet another bit of anger in Yaksha’s mind.

The last thing Marco needed was dealing with the Banette on top of everything else, ignoring him as he tried to comfort the ghostly girl. “^It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m—I’m sorry Sage, I shouldn’t have raised my voice.^” It hurt to admit, but he hoped it’d be enough to soothe some of her worries.

Attentive nod, a moment of thought—one Phantump floating over to hug his hand, trying her best to hold on to the umbrella throughout. “~Okay...~”

He knew full well he was unlikely to get anything more confident out of Sage, and it still felt not enough. He felt not enough. Dammit, not again...

He needed a lead, Sage needed reassurance; they couldn’t keep going like this forever. The street grew less and less busy even as the surrounding buildings grew larger, two-floor rectangular structures from earlier now replaced by a mix of large, multi-room houses with angled roofs and spacious lawns, and something else, something his eyes had a hard time making sense of.

The same lit-up windows he’d seen earlier, but this time some of them were many, many floors up in the sky, the sight utterly dumbfounding until they walked closer. To his shock, they weren’t some sort of flying houses, something unlikely but which he could at least imagine, but a building so tall and wide it faded into the murky darkness above them, shrouded by night and rain.

It made Marco feel puny, and drove into him just how lost he was. Not just in the moment, but about the sheer scale of the settlement he was in, the sheer amount of buildings and people and lights and smells finally hitting him. All of that wasn’t even one town, it was but a tiny slice of said town, its exact size too large for him to even imagine.

There was no way to avoid admitting the obvious—they were lost.

Which left but one way forward.

“^We need to ask someone for directions, we can’t continue like this.^” The admission brought more comfort than Marco expected, finally giving him an idea of what to do next, even if it wasn’t directly walking ahead yet. The two ghosts nodded in acknowledgement, looking around in search of anyone who looked ask-able.

And finding themselves alone on the street, most of the surrounding windows already dark. The realization threatened to undermine whatever reassurance the Gallade had carved for himself, and he knew he couldn’t stop there. Without another word, he resumed the group’s march, the ghosts soon catching up—though Sage with noticeable difficulty.

She hadn’t said anything yet, but Marco could feel the exhaustion creeping up on her.

“~I see someone. A couple of people there, under that flat’s awning,~” Yaksha directed, some of his words sliding off Marco when he’d tried to parse them. Trying to figure out what the Banette had meant by ‘flat’ was too difficult for the Gallade’s frazzled mind, but he didn’t have to—he too spotted the humans moments later.

Both were shorter than him, with almost full-body outfits, hats, and weird, bulky masks on their faces. They seemed to be painting something on the walls inside the awning, each new line marked with a loud, drawn-out hiss. Marco had no idea what exactly they were doing there, but he didn’t care. He had questions, and he hoped beyond hope they had answers.

Or else...

Or else he’d have to go find another human, and that’d just be inconvenient.

With his aim set on the two humans, Marco marched on with a spring in his step, determined to find a way forward. The din of rain and hisses of spray cans made it difficult for them to hear him approach, making them jump once he spoke up–

“^Hey, you two!^” 

“~Oh shit, book it Lee!~” the shorter of the humans shouted, bits of pink hair flowing out underneath their hat as she and her partner in crime tried to run in the opposite directions.

Neither of them made it even a single step before their bottom halves were surrounded in the pale glow of Marco’s Psychic, immobilizing them in an instant. He felt the emotions surging through their minds in perfect clarity—startle at their illegal fun being interrupted, adrenaline and excitement once it came time to outrun yet another cop,

Deep fear at the realization they weren’t dealing with just some obese donut-muncher, or even just a human for that matter. Thoughts about ‘ghost brides’, about having been tracked down for revenge—none of them mattered at the moment, especially not to Marco. What the taller, dark-skinned human did right after, though, did.

“~Chucky, help!~” he shouted, waking up someone neither Yaksha nor Marco had spotted earlier, nestled inside the bag in the corner, and catching their attention.

*c-caw! CAW CAW!*

Yaksha leaped back as the Murkrow stirred awake from their nap inside the humans’ backpack, their anger aimed squarely at the Gallade. Fighting was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now—or dealing with over-eager human pets. He might’ve not been able to immobilize the Dark-type directly, but he didn’t have to.

Before the Murkrow could react, Marco’s glow enveloped the entire backpack they were standing inside of, and held it shut, leaving them thrashing against their sudden containment.

“^I just have a question for you two. Answer it and I’ll let you go.^” Marco put as much effort as he was capable of in concealing his annoyance.

Thankfully, the humans’ fear, only intensified by their guardian ending up incapacitated, gave way to confusion. Mostly. They stared wide-eyed first at the not-human bum-looking stranger, and then at each other, getting enough of a grip on themselves to answer with the world’s shakiest nods.

“^Where can I find buildings with green roofs here?^”

Marco worried as he watched the two stare at him, dumbfounded by his question. Not an encouraging response in the slightest, but the last thing he wanted to do was to speed them on and make them even more afraid. If for nothing else, then for the practical reason of fear making it harder to think rationally.

“~A-as in, green-roofed buildings here? In Lillywood?~” the shorter human questioned, going through her mental map of the town the moment the stranger answered with a nod.

“~What kinda fuckin’ place has a green roof...~” the taller one muttered, annoyed at not remembering anything that fit the criteria.

“~No, Lee, I think I got somethin’! Hold on, uh, like you mean normal tile roofs on family houses? That kinda building?~” the pink-haired one asked, focusing on having potentially found their ticket out of this mess. Marco didn’t know how to answer that,

But Sage did.

“~Yeah! With a lawn and a garage!~” 

The two humans were almost focused enough to not freak out at hearing that ghost just speak Unovan at them—but only almost, the realization of what the hell they had just heard shutting them up for a moment. Sage didn’t know why they suddenly went quiet, but could feel their glares on her all the same, making her retreat behind the friendly Gallade.

Chucky continued to thrash inside the bag.

“^You heard her.^”

Marco’s grunt was enough to snap the humans out of their stupor, though they still needed a moment for their thoughts to go from ‘did that fucking ghost just talk’ to ‘who the fuck has a green roof on their place’, and then ‘hold on, I think I can recall something like that’. And then, at last, the taller human spoke, “~Shit, you’re right. Uh, fuck, I remember—Sunnyside Heights, I think! They had a fancy-ass street like that over here; I think I passed by it once or twice.~”

“~Yeah, that’s the one!~” the other human followed up.

Marco’s attention was focused entirely on the Phantump beside him, her thoughts swirling as she tried to recall that name. And then, she finally did, gasping, “~Yes, that! I-I remember now, from a sign!~”

The Gallade mouthed thanks to all the deities he could think of. “^That’s good. Now, how do we get to that... ‘Sunnyside Heights’?^” He had no idea what that name referenced, hoping that once they got to whatever it was, Sage would recognize that area enough to guide them.

“~By bus? Uhhh, I think two-oh-five goes from the stop down the road to there—~”

“^On foot,^” Marco clarified, cutting the taller human off. He didn’t expect that clarification of all things to confuse them as much as it did. The shorter one fared no better, thinking hard for a moment before reaching into the pocket of their leg coverings and pulling out a black rectangular object.

“~Hold on, need to double-check the map,~” she spoke as the rectangle lit up, illuminating her bulky mask with a pale light. “~Aight, it’s down the road from here, then turn left onto 26th—~”

“^Where is that exactly?^” Marco asked, not having the patience for more human terms.

“~The fuck you—ugh, fifth street to the left. Then fourth to the right, you go straight for a few miles and end up at a plaza. From there you turn left and it should be it. Sound good?~” 

Thankfully for her, it did sound good.

“^Yes. Thank you.^” Marco said, before letting both humans and the backpack go. They wasted not a second running away as fast as their legs could carry them, the taller one forcibly dragging the Murkrow with himself before they could let loose upon the stranger that had just interrogated them.

At last, progress. The Gallade took a deep breath as he turned around, finding Sage a bit worried about the humans, and Yaksha staring at him... impressed.

“^Let’s get going, it’s not getting any less dark,^” he muttered, walking around the group while repeating the human’s instructions on a loop—

And then; he spotted someone watching them from a distance.

They were far enough away to where he couldn’t make out anything except for a human-like appearance and a small bag in one hand, but could tell their focus was squarely on their makeshift group. Worries shot through his mind at the realization, concerns about whether he needed to intervene and wipe that from their mind while the memory was still fresh and malleable. Before Marco could settle on what to do next, though, the onlooker... turned around and walked away.

...

Fine by him.

---

As reassuring as being told where to go was, it didn’t last forever.

Rain poured on as the group followed the human’s directions, their spirits faltering with each step. Sage wasn’t getting any less exhausted, finding it harder and harder to keep holding her rain shield, though kept herself from complaining out loud.

“~Are we getting close, M-Mr. Marco?~”

Most of the time.

“^I don’t know, Sage. We’re following the directions they gave us, and I just hope they’re accurate. Do you recognize this place?^” he asked as calmly as he could, even if his worries were growing just as fast as the Phantump’s. They had gone from there being almost nobody sharing the streets with them, to just flat-out being alone, going many minutes without seeing another soul outside. Fewer humans walking around, fewer lit windows, fewer awake minds he could sense with each steady step.

They were alone, with only the sickly orange light and their worries to accompany them.

“~N-nooo, not really...~”

And the worries only kept growing. Marco could swear he’d followed the humans’ directions to the letter, and yet here they were, no less lost despite that. Imposing buildings gave way to shorter, more sprawled-out houses, but it didn’t matter when there were so many of them, street after street. Each of them was large enough to fit several families, and yet he could only feel a handful of souls in them at a time, sometimes even just a single human.

All that space, much larger than their burrow, even excluding the empty grass lots, for a single person. Unthinkable.

To Marco’s chagrin, his mind was keen to badger him with more doubts than just that. Even if they had found their way and made it over to the street Sage’s family lived on, would she be able to recognize the right building in the dark? Would anyone in her family still be awake? Could they wake them up if not?

Even if anything went well, how in the world would they react to a tall, disguised figure showing up with a pair of ghosts in the dead of night? Marco’s imagination provided him with exactly no uplifting answers, and it wasn’t even done yet. Them freaking out would be bad enough—but what if they weren’t just humans? What if they were those so-called ‘‘‘trainers’’’, and either attacked them in perceived self-defense or tried to capture Sage?

What if they succeeded?

Every hypothetical left Marco feeling even colder, his gloved hand shaking as it held Sage’s. This time, the Phantump didn’t even notice, too spaced out in her own little world as she marched on. He spared her tired mind a quick look—and found hope, despite everything. Not as bright as it was just a few hours ago, no doubt tainted by the increasing realization of everything he and Yaksha were also worried about, but still there.

Hope that deserved him trying his hardest to keep searching. They hadn’t seen anyone in a good while now, but once they would, Marco figured he’d ask them the same question he asked those two humans earlier. Maybe he could even ask about the name of the unspecified area they gave him, other humans would likely know more about it—

“~Ice cream!!!~” Sage gasped in joy, flying straight on before either of the other two could react.

She wasn’t that fast even while doing the hovering equivalent of sprinting, though, and Marco only needed to jog to keep up with her. “^Sage, where are you—^”

“~There’s the ice cream place, Mr. Marco!~” The Phantump accompanied her non-explanation by pointing her hand towards where she was running, letting the Gallade finally spot... that. How in the world had he not mentioned the large light in the distance earlier, he had no idea.

Brooding most definitely didn’t help, though.

The building was on the smaller side as far as the rectangular two-floor ones went, one of several around the plaza lined with red tiles and flower beds. What it lacked in size, it more than made up for in how bright it—or rather the decoration on it—shone. It took Marco until he was just a few dozen meters away to make out what the light, and the negative space surrounding it, was meant to be, the distance making it fade into a blur.

A female Indeedee wearing a small white hat, an apron, and holding a conical object topped with a sphere in each paw.

“~Awwwhhhh, it’s closed...~” Sage mumbled, distraught.

“^Do you remember this place, Sage?^”

“~Yeah, mom always took us here on weekends and we all had ice cream!~”

The girl might’ve dodged the realization in her exhaustion, but it sure hit the Gallade, making him follow with another question right after. “^Do you remember how to get home from here?^”

Sage opened her mouth, about to say that she didn’t—but then; she realized she did. Her eyes went wide as she nodded with all her strength, turning to the left and taking off without Marco needing to ask her. If she had a heart, it would’ve been racing. Marco’s was more than fit to pick up the slack, hammering faster than the Gallade remembered in years.

At least; until the earlier worries started crawling out once more. They were getting there, which solved one worry, and still left all the other ones. He’d done it, he’d guided Sage over, made it through this massive, sprawling human town—but for what? For fate to subject her to heartbreak after all?

Marco’s heart ached at the thought, at the reality of them being so close and yet infinitely far. For a moment, he wanted to pull his hand back and try to discourage the girl, to turn around. It was much too late now, and he was well aware.

No way forward now but to face fate.

Each turn along the increasingly narrow streets built up more and more dread in them all—Sage not excluded. Marco felt her radiant excitement dull as the reality caught up with her, aided further by her catching a distorted glimpse of herself in the puddle she was flying overhead. She knew what she used to be, who she used to be—but only used to be.

What she no longer was.

The realization was inescapable, gnawing at her spirits even as she tried to outrace it. Left on their playground, right at the tall stop sign; images flooded her mind as she found herself following her route back home from school. Just like she remembered, but dark and distorted, warm sunlight replaced by the glare of street lamps, illuminating little more than the spots immediately underneath themselves.

Her bright, happy world replaced with a sea of dark doubt and a single, shaky path along the lights still scattered through it, still pushing back against the night.

She was so scared,

But she had made it.

Before them, a street she could fill in from memory, the single-family houses lining it so similar in appearance, and yet so colorful and different with all their inhabitants. Her neighbors, her friends, her family. So hard to make out like this.

For a while, Sage could only shake in place and watch, only snapping back to awareness once a particularly strong gust had almost ripped the umbrella out of her grasp. She breathed rapidly as she came to, knowing only vaguely where to go now and yet afraid to take a step. She jumped as something grabbed her, warm and leathery—Mr. Marco’s hand once more.

“^Are you okay, Sage?^” he asked with all the warmth he could still muster, kneeling beside the hauntling.

“~I-I’m scared, M-Mr. Marco...~”

Tears mixed with rain as the Phantump was overwhelmed by her thoughts, clinging to the Gallade’s arm. He pulled her in close, hoping that, even if not particularly warm or dry, his embrace would still comfort her at least a bit. She accepted it wholeheartedly, but it only did so much, could only ever hope to do so much.

They didn’t know what to do. But, if nothing else, Yaksha knew what to ask.

“~Are you sure you wanna keep going, Sage?~” 

Sage deserved happiness in this cruel world, and there was no happiness to be found down this dark, human street, in this dark, human world. It pained him to see how much it hurt Sage to realize that, but better late than never—

“~Y-yes...~” she muttered out, trying to steady her breathing. She got scared; she was still scared, but she didn’t want to stop. She knew she looked different now, was different in more than just appearance in a way she couldn’t explain with words even if she’d tried—but her family was here. And they were always there for her when she got scared, her mom especially.

She loved her mom, and her mom said she’d always love her too...

The Banette stared distraught as the Phantump shook the Gallade’s embrace off, going back to just holding his hand instead. Without saying another word, she hovered down the street, looking from side to side as she kept trying to make out the details of the surrounding front porches.

Yaksha eventually followed.

“^Your family lives on this street, right Sage?^” Marco asked to be sure, the hauntling confirming soon after. All of these buildings looked almost identical, but Sage still had some idea where to go next. He didn’t follow up with any more questions, instead holding her hand as firmly as he could while he scanned the nearby humans.

All asleep, all tired.

All but one.

A faint light shone from inside one of the houses, as if from the next room over, accompanied by a quiet, somber insomnia. Marco let go of Sage as she hovered closer, investigating—and gasping soon after.

“~I-I remember we had this f-for Halloween! I-I think this is my house—yes, that’s our doormat too!~” Sage squeaked in the dark, letting Marco spot what she was referring to regarding the so-called ‘Halloween’ once she’d floated away from the window. It was torn in a few places and rather faded, but still recognizable as a depiction of a Phantump attached to the transparent material.

With a heavy heart, Marco took one step after another as he followed Sage to the front door, looking behind him to see Yaksha staring at the dirt away from them, bracing himself for the inevitable. The Gallade was only doing any better through the sheer force of will.

A few seconds and an eternity later, he stood beside the Phantump as she stared down at the fabric rectangle in front of the door, intently reading the human writing patterned into the material. He gave her a moment, then another, eventually leaning in and grasping her hand once more. This time, she didn’t jump, slowly floating up to him as she read out loud,

“~Welcome Home.~”

Marco held her as firmly as he could, and it was only barely enough to keep them both from breaking down.

“^Are you ready, Sage?^” He asked quietly, steadying his breath as the Phantump floated up to the front door. Without responding, she reached out with an inky arm towards something attached to the wall beside the door’s handle—

And pressed it.

*ding-ding-dooong*

A jolt went through the group at the sound, startling them in how familiar it was for Sage, how unfamiliar for Marco, and how damning for Yaksha. Not much happened for a while—not much they could see from the outside. Marco felt it all, though. Felt the racing heart of the awake human inside; felt their fear; felt the myriad of possibilities racing through their mind as they stood up, turned on the lights, and approached the front door.

He took two steps back as the stranger drew close, Sage following in tow. A moment later, a light lit up above them, and they saw something dark on the opposite side of the frosted glass.

The door’s handle shook, stopped, and began to twist.

The human that peeked out looked unlike either Anne or Olive with her dark skin and black, braided hair, but her appearance was the last thing on Marco’s mind. She was tired, startled, confused—and the moment she spotted the Phantump floating just a couple feet away, afraid. 

“~What—what is this!?~” Her expression twisted into terror as she reeled back, about to shut the door there and then—

“~M-Mom, it’s me, Sage!~” the Phantump wailed, terrified of her mom’s reaction. She tried to float just a bit closer, only startling the human further before she froze at her words.

Froze and shook, steady breaths giving way to hyperventilating. “~No, no this can’t be, no, NO!~” The woman gasped as blood drained away from her face, the sheer horror before her making her want to run and hide. Hide from the ghost that spoke Unovan, that claimed to be her dead son, that wanted to trick her into letting it in, to fool her with the voice so—so similar to his...

Marco wanted to intervene, but could only stare, sinking his head as he let the inevitable play out.

The ghost shrieked at the woman almost closing the door before her, “~MOM IT’S ME, SAGE! I’M SORRY FOR SCARING YOU, I-I’M SORRY FOR TAKING AZALEA’S SKIRT, I-I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO, I-I WAS SCARED A-AND—~” The words couldn’t endure as despair flooded her mind, despair at having scared her mom so much and her mom not believing it was her and not knowing what to do. She broke into pained sobs, tears flowing down her mask as she tried to hide in her hands, do anything to make her mom less afraid—only to be unable to.

She didn’t mean to scare her...

A few feet away, the woman stared out the slit of the opened door, grasping the door’s handle with all her strength. Stared at this mon, at this ghost with something black on its head, and watched it wail, paralyzed in thought. Every single fiber of her being wanted to run, to run until she couldn’t, to begrudgingly call the cops and the League to save her, to grab her husband’s handgun to protect herself from this—this thing—

But she couldn’t.

This couldn’t have been it but, but nobody knew of Sage wearing his sister’s skirt when they found him—his body. She’d asked the cops to not write it in the report, none of the newspapers had mentioned it, she thought it’d been some fucked up taunt the kids had pulled on him and didn’t want him to be remembered like that, a-and—

And this thing, this ghost, knew. It sounded ghostly, distorted, almost girlish, but—but it was his voice, almost like his voice. That weird thing on its head, almost like a wig, almost like the hairstyle he had when they—but HOW!? It was impossible; people couldn’t come back as ghosts; no, no, this had to have been a trick!

She was being deceived, drawn into a trap, especially with that tall man standing next to the stairs to the porch, but couldn’t look away. Away from this crying, distraught ghost, its sobs just like when he got scared after watching a movie he was much too young for. This was all a dream, must’ve been a dream, there’s no way this could be real, this thing sounded too female to be Sage, there was no way, but—but what if—no it was impossible, NO—

Bitter reality fought fevered dreams in the woman’s mind as she grasped the handle so hard her hand grew numb, locked in a stalemate with herself. It couldn’t have been a coincidence; too many things lined up, but it couldn’t have not been a coincidence; none of this was possible—Sage was GONE, and she was finally beginning to make peace with that fact! Was her mind playing a trick on her, trying to pull her away from acceptance and into another grief-fueled delusion!?

It hurt too much to be anything but reality.

After what felt like an eternity, the woman took another breath, her shaking eyes staring at the ghost—and finding it, them, staring back at her. She knew it wasn’t possible, but...

“~I-I’m sorry, m-mom...~”

...she wanted it to be. She wanted to see her baby again, to apologize to him for all the times she wasn’t there for him, to make him feel as loved as he always deserved to be and not just on weekends, to tell him how much she loved him,

To hug him again.

“~S-Sage, i-i-is that you?~” the woman whispered, words so quiet they were only barely audible above the din of rain.

Hope mixed with disbelief, fear with anguish, fantasy with reality as she watched the ghost perk up at her words, shaking even harder than before.

“~Th-that’s me mom, I-I’m Sage, I’m sorry I’M SORRY!~” the ghost wailed, wet tears streaking down their wooden mask as it twisted into terror. And then; it stopped, pink pinpricks of its eyes focusing as the woman opened the door just enough to reach out with her other hand. Cold, shaking, curled as if ready to be withdrawn at a moment’s notice—but still there.

Her mom’s hand.

Sage flew over to it without thinking, scared beyond words and just wanting her mom to hold her again, to tell her how much she loved her, to feel safe and to be told that everything would be okay again, to eat ice cream with her again, to have her braids done again, to apologize. She clung to her hand as close as she could, not wanting it to let go, not wanting her mom to abandon her,

Clung to it, just like Sage did.

“~S-Sage? SAGE!~” Mom shouted, pulling the door open and stumbling outside, falling to her knees as she pulled the wooden ghost into her arms. Rain covered for her wailing sobs as she let her grief out in bitter tears, “~M-mommy is here, Sage, mommy is here...~”

“~MOM! I-I—~” Sage wept as despair gave way to grief, fearful emotions leaving her body one warm tear at a time—into her mom’s shirt, just like always. She tried to speak, but couldn’t; she could only cry and listen and keep crying—but now, in release.

“~I-I thought I’d never see you again...~” Mom whimpered, arms shaking even as the rough bark dug into her skin, not wanting to let go even slightly.

Sage whined, “~I-I’m sorry,~” before her mom cut her off—

“~Shhhhh, shhhhh, it’s—it’s okay baby, d-don’t be sorry, baby. I’m here, m-mommy’s here, m-mommy loves you...~”

Marco stared slack-jawed, heart fluttering at the sheer intensity of emotions going on around him. Intense enough to give him a headache, and yet blissful enough to only draw him closer as his mind caught up to the racing hearts before him. Beside him, Yaksha was reacting much the same, pink eyes unfocused as they took the scene in.

Sage’s mom flinched as she spotted the homeless man step into the light, pushing him half a step back. As terrifying as the stranger was, though, she knew they had to have been related to her—her child finding their way back home, and so had the Banette beside them. They scared her; they scared her so much, but they meant well, she knew it. She mouthed ‘thank you’ their way before holding the ghost even tighter.

She was weak; she was cold and wet from the rain side swiping, her head kept spinning; none of this should’ve even been possible—but it was Sage; it couldn’t not be Sage. She wanted to believe it was Sage, wanted that wound on her soul to be mended.

The two sobbed in silence for a while longer as the maelstrom of emotions burned out into exhaustion, deep and all-encompassing. At having grieved her child, at having to survive in the woods for months, at finding her child’s body, at being so worried about her family not accepting her again. It was over; it was finally over, and eventually, tears slowed down to just a trickle.

It’d take many, many days for the last of them to be shed, but they had time. They finally had time.

“~I-I love you mommy...~” Sage mumbled, barely awake anymore. Her mom only barely kept herself from breaking into more sobs as she slowly stood up once more, cold and drenched and happy and beyond words and so, so exhausted. She kept gently shushing her child as she began to turn around, wanting to carry them home just like she did when they first showed up to this world. And then stopped at hearing the Phantump gasp in her arms, “~M-mommy, can I s-say goodbye to Mr. Yaksha a-and Mr. Marco?~”

Mom looked up at the stranger and the ghost once more, holding the wooden ghost even tighter. She didn’t want to let go, to risk something happening to her child again, even if she’d be just mere feet away—but she agreed, regardless. Her arms shook as she nodded, trying her hardest to relax them and yet finding herself unable to. Sage knew what to do, though, phasing through her mom’s arms and leaving her wig behind as she hovered over to her guardians.

“~Th-thank you, Mr. Yaksha! D-do you want to come too?~” Sage squealed as she hugged the dumbstruck Banette, her spectral touch finally snapping him back to reality.

The older ghost didn’t even need to look at the terrified expression on the woman's face to know it was a bad idea, weakly shaking his head as he gave her a couple of pats on the back. “~Best not, kid.~”

“~Awhhhh. But w-will you visit us sometime?~”

Yaksha almost didn’t hear the question at all, staring into the middle distance as the hauntling let go of him. “~I’ll think about it. Stay—stay safe, kid.~” 

“~I-I will! Bye-bye, Mr. Yaksha! B-bye-bye, Mr. Marco!~” She squealed as she hovered back to her mom, returning the disguised Gallade’s waving in kind.

Marco and Yaksha watched the woman give them one last nod in gratitude before she closed the door and turned off the porch light. Moments later, light shone from the building’s ground-floor windows and Marco sensed someone making their way down from the top floor and being taken aback. He could’ve stood and snooped like this for hours, but he knew he didn’t have to.

They were done here.

“We did it,” Marco whispered as the reality of the situation finally hit him, warm relief filling his soul. He was tired, and yet he felt fine, unable to stop laughing as his body and mind alike unwound from the tension. They’d done it, he’d done it. Sage was safe. Things would be okay now. He kept laughing to himself as his body turned around on autopilot and started making its way back to the sidewalk.

Before he could let himself get lost in that bliss, though, he sensed something else brewing inside the Banette. “^Y-you okay, Yaksha?^” he asked, sparing the ghost a concerned glance. He hadn’t moved an inch since Sage let go of him, gaze drilling into nothing.

“~I feel... hollow.~” Yaksha whispered, continuing to stare straight ahead.

Marco chuckled, “^I get it, you two were close. I could tell you’ve been looking after her for a while now, and now she’s gone. Hard to get over it, I imagine.^” A smile crept to his obscured lips as he turned back to the road once more, his tired mind trying its best to come up with some guidance on the spot. “^Well, if you don’t know what to do now, our village would always be glad to take you in—^”

“~The stars look so beautiful today.~”

...

“^What?^” Marco blinked at Yaksha’s awestruck observation, looking up at the sky just in case. Nope, the sky was still entirely covered with clouds, pitch black and only occasionally illuminated by stray lightning in the distance. He turned to the ghost, “^What do you—^”

But the Banette was gone.

Marco looked from side to side as he tried to spot the ghost before focusing on his psychics to figure out where he’d gone. They were of no use, not spotting a single trace of the Banette despite having sensed him just moments prior—

...

The Gallade stopped as the realization struck him. He didn’t know what had happened with certainty, but... he had a guess. Without wasting another moment, he nodded toward the now-empty spot,

And began his journey home.

---