After a satisfying meal and a few drinks, Edward was the last to leave the restaurant.
As he stepped out and glanced at the night sky outside the window, he stretched his body with a yawn. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked toward the street, where Officer Jennys were driving police cars with flashing lights, speeding down the road.
Edward gave it a brief glance but didn't pay much attention. He simply returned to his hotel and soon after, drifted into a groggy slumber.
When Edward woke up the next morning, he packed his things and left the hotel with Zoroark. With the filming work now completed, the next step was post-production editing.
Edward planned to personally go through the footage and piece together a rough cut first. Once the structure was in place, he would then hand it off to the company's editing staff for further processing.
As long as he could direct the general editing direction, that would be sufficient, and it would also considerably reduce the amount of work he had to do himself.
Walking down the street, Edward happened to glance at a milk tea shop by the roadside. It reminded him of the milk tea he had tasted before—specifically, the one made by Aunt Hana.
Her milk tea had quite a delightful flavor. Once he returned to Hoenn, he probably wouldn't have the chance to drink it again. With that thought, Edward stepped into the shop with Zoroark.
"Hello, I'd like four cups of Miltank Milk Tea," Edward said with a smile, placing the order. Zoroark stood beside him, busy on his phone arranging Edward's upcoming schedule.
The laughter and chatter of people on the street poured into the shop, blending with the store's background music to create a lively, slightly chaotic atmosphere.
The staff quietly went about making the milk tea. Edward noticed the same girl he had seen before—she was calmly preparing the drinks. He recognized her; she was the one who had previously answered his questions at the counter. But now, her hands seemed to tremble ever so slightly.
"Sir, here are your four milk teas." The employee handed the drinks to Edward, who accepted them while casting a glance at her slightly reddened eyes.
"Excuse me, could I ask if Aunt Hana is still working here?" Edward asked in a gentle tone as he received the drinks.
He remembered that Aunt Hana had been working at this very shop.
"Aunt Hana... passed away last night." The employee's voice was soft and subdued as she answered. Edward froze for a moment, and even Zoroark, who had been fiddling with a trinket, paused and looked up at the staff member in stunned disbelief.
The employee didn't know many details. She had only heard about Aunt Hana's passing from the store manager earlier that morning.
Carrying the four cups of milk tea, Edward stepped out of the milk tea shop. The bustling city teemed with vibrant life, but Edward blinked blankly. Just last night, Aunt Hana had come to the wrap party, eaten a few bites, and then left. Yet in the span of a single night, that final meeting had become their last.
"What happened?" Edward murmured, eyes scanning the lively street.
"Boss, I just made some inquiries," Zoroark began, taking a deep breath. His voice was low, heavy with weight. "Aunt Hana's husband passed away last night. After paying for the cremation and related expenses, she… she jumped from the rooftop of the hospital."
Edward was suddenly reminded of the scene he had witnessed the previous night as he was leaving the restaurant—the flashing lights and the speeding police cars. Could it have been that the Officer Jennys were responding to Aunt Hana's incident?
In an instant, the cacophony of city sounds seemed to vanish, replaced by a profound silence that enveloped the world. Edward inhaled deeply and rubbed his face with one hand.
He hadn't known Aunt Hana very well. He only knew that her husband had been in the ICU, that she had unwavering determination, and that she worked tirelessly every single day just to buy her husband a few more days of life. What he hadn't expected was that after her husband's death, Aunt Hana would…
"…Sigh." Edward let out a long sigh.
"Let's go back to Hoenn," Edward said quietly. He handed one of the milk teas to Zoroark, then summoned Fortune and Q, giving each of them a cup. Edward took a sip of his own.
The flavor was still the same—but somehow, it felt like something essential was missing.
Edward and Zoroark boarded the plane, flying first class. Looking out the window, Edward watched as Levincia City slowly shrank into the distance below.
The city was vast, and not a single soul had noticed that the previous night, a husband and wife had chosen to leave the world together in this very city. Edward's fingers tapped lightly on the airplane's armrest.
He couldn't shake the feeling that something was weighing on his chest, a kind of suffocating frustration and gloom. Was this what people meant when they talked about emotional numbness caused by grief?
Closing his eyes, Edward gently rubbed the stone in his hand. He planned to give it to his father later. Just thinking about his old man slightly lifted Edward's spirits.
Besides, there was still the editing and post-production work for One Missed Call, not to mention the film approval process—all of which required his attention.
The thought of these many responsibilities managed to ease his mood a little.
By the time they arrived in Rustboro City, night had already fallen. Edward glanced at Zoroark, who was intently focused on his phone. Curious, Edward leaned over for a peek—Zoroark was browsing a donation page.
"What's wrong? Feeling down too?" Edward raised a brow at him. It wasn't like Zoroark to be looking at donation sites.
"I know most donations don't really reach the people who actually need help, but sometimes… sometimes you just want to do something. I guess this is one of those fleeting moments where my bleeding heart acts up." Zoroark answered with a completely blank expression, even as he entered the amount: 2000.
Edward took a look. Zoroark was donating to the Pokémon League Red Association—a well-known and long-established charity organization.
"I know that one. Not bad, actually. They do real work," Edward said as he pulled out his own phone. He hesitated for a moment, then put it away again.
It wasn't that Edward didn't want to help others. He simply understood a hard truth—this vast League was full of people who needed help. Even a massive company like Devon couldn't possibly save everyone. That was just reality.
Then Edward remembered something he had done in the past—the Trainer's First Step Foundation. It was a charity aimed at helping children who, due to financial hardship, couldn't begin their journey as Pokémon trainers at the proper age.
Every year, some people would still donate to it.
"What if…" Edward trailed off, his mind drifting to some ideas from his previous life. He glanced at Zoroark, considering whether he could create a new charitable donation fund, one focused entirely on medical assistance?
If the vetting process was strict enough, it might really be able to help those in need. As for the operational model, maybe he could reference a few things… although he also remembered the public backlash that a similar donation app faced in his past life.
Edward knew he would need to be extremely careful. If he created a fund with good intentions, only for it to be twisted into a tool for personal profit, the damage would be immense.
Fortunately, in the Pokémon world, the one thing it didn't lack was kind and sincere people. As long as supervision was strong, it probably wouldn't go down the same dark path as in his past life.
"Zoroark, by the way, how's your social circle looking these days?" Edward asked, glancing sideways at his companion.
Zoroark looked up, giving Edward a rather odd look.
(End of Chapter)