Part Four A. Men are from Mars, Women are from Venusaur: Kasumi.

I really don't see the point of the male population at times. Really. This is one of them. Okay, the poison-clan just took off with not only the Pikachu we were supposed to protect and Shigeru's best friend but is going and getting himself killed really going to help the situation.

Men.

Enough said.

I seriously wonder how humankind has survived as long as it has considering approximately one half of it acts with nothing resembling logical thought at all! If men had any intelligence they'd have woken up to the fact that we women are smarter than they are, just as good as fighting as they are, if cooler and let's face it, better looking. Even relatively stable males such as Hiroshi have failed to fully appreciate my wonderful caring personality and dramatic flair. I really wonder sometimes. However since I'm the only one with any tact I decide to put it to Shigeru that this might not be the smartest idea.

"Shigeru-san, that is the most idiotic idea I've ever heard! If the Poison-clan doesn't kill you, your grandfather will!"

"I made a vow," Shigeru states calmly. "My grandfather will understand."

"Yeah, understand he has a total moron for a grandson!"

"Kasumi, step aside."

"Shigeru-san, you have to be insane if you think I'm going to let you take on the poison-clan alone!"

"That's right," nice sane Hiroshi agreed with me. I beamed smugly at Shigeru until what Hiroshi said next caught up with me. "We're going with you."

"Onix and I will accompany you," the messenger Takeshi said. "Ash- uh, Satoshi is a friend."

"But-that's suicide! That's insane! That's . . . stupid!" They looked at me. I swallowed. "Am I the only one who see something wrong with this scheme? Only an idiot would attack the poison-clan stronghold!"

"Which is why they won't be expecting us too!" Hiroshi pointed out brightly. "If we plan it right this just might work."

Did I say nice sane Hiroshi? I gaped at him then at the other two.

"Kasumi," Shigeru said still using a voice as sharp as the edge of his hatana, "if you would prefer to return to the fire-clan hold and inform my grandfather of our decision you may."

"Um . . . " Just the thought of informing poor old Ookido-san that his only grandson has suddenly developed a rather nasty suicidal tendency made me think twice about facing the poison-clan. "Well when you put it like that, I'm all for it. Let's go make poison-clan noodles, okay?"

"We will need to plan this first," Hiroshi said. "Takeshi and Onix need to be taken care of."

"Agreed," Shigeru said although he looked disappointed. The fact we couldn't go with his original plan of attacking anything in purple no doubt.

"Allow me to help you, Takeshi-san," Hiroshi said. "We'll go back to our hotel."

The Pokémon followed us as we left. Shigeru's Arcanine whined as we left the compound.

"Don't worry, Arcanine," Shigeru said, patting the fire-dog. "We'll find Satoshi."

Part Four b. Inside the Poison clan stronghold: Musashi.

The Persian stretched, and padded over to Sakaki-daimyo, whose ringed hand glided down its back. The Persian looked at us smugly, if it had been human I would have sworn it was smirking at us. It's coat, silky smooth was the only light thing in the dark ante-hall, the dark purple tapestries either side of the flickering torches seemed only to accentuate the darkness of the room-- there were no windows. Visiting the poison-clan lord was always an ordeal . . . not helped of course by the fact that we rarely had good news to report. My knees were beginning to protest having to kneel so long . . . I wished Sakaki-daimyo would just say something--anything -- if it would just mean we could get out of this wretched room.

"So. You two failed to recover the Pikachu."

"We're very sorry," Kojiro said hastily. "We'll do better next time."

"You're lucky I'm even allowing a next time," Sakaki said coldly. Under his hand the Persian preened some more.

"We'll bring you that Pikachu, my lord," I said. "No matter what."

"The Pikachu has already been recovered."

"What . . ."

"It has?"

"Miaow." The Persian begged for more patting and Sakaki turned to it for a moment. Then he said, "I have sent Kosaburo and Yamato to bring it back. I am sure they will be successful."

I snarled. Yamato really really gets up my nose. She thinks she's so great just because she's actually managed to steal stuff. Huh. Someone should inform her that those ponytails of hers are just so unfashionable she's a disgrace to the entire clan or better yet save her the trouble and lop them off for her. Hey there's an idea . . . And now she and Kosaburo would be making us look even worse . . . as if on cue footsteps sounding on the stone corridor. Kosaburo and Yamato's team had arrived.

"We're here Sakaki-Daimyo," Yamato said, bowing low as did the rest of the team, Kosaburo forcing a black-haired boy, with his arms bound securely, to his knees before he too made his bow. "We have the Pikachu you wanted."

"PIkaCHUU!"

Although the little mouse looks battered and a bit weary it manages to shock Yamato. Kojiro and I smirk and make no move to help as it claws free of her arms and lands in the middle of the floor spitting lightning.

"Seize it," Sakaki-daimyo demands.

The warriors obediently draw their swords and start to circle it. The mouse watches, the sparks around it starting to become even bigger.

"No!" The kid scrambles to his feet and puts himself between the warriors and the Pikachu. "Pikachu, they're too strong! You can't fight them, you'll only get hurt!"

"Pi-kaaa." The Pikachu growls, still watching the warriors.

"Trust me." The kid kneels by the Pikachu. "Let them take you away. I'll come and get you. Somehow."

"Pikachu? Pika . . ." the Pikachu stares at him a long moment then nods. "Pikachu."

"Don't hurt him," the kid says as the warriors move in cautiously.

Amazingly the Pikachu lets them cart him off, though I hear a faint crackle as soon as they've rounded the corner . . . I smirk.

"Who is this kid?" Sakaki-daimyo inquires from his seat. It's hewn from black marble, a huge throne over which are carved ancient symbols of storm and skyfire . . . it was taken from the Storm-clan stronghold after it was destroyed so long ago.

"A nobody, a samurai wannabe who got in our way. The Pikachu seems to be attached to it."

"A lightning-type trainer, hmm? Well, well. Bring him here."

Kosaburo shoves the kid over to Sakaki-daimyo's throne. The kid has the audacity to glare at our lord. The Persian hisses at him, stung into anger by this display of disrespect. Sakaki-daimyo merely smirks, patting the Persian and giving the kid a brief look. "Well, well, well. What's your name, boy?"

"Ash."

The Persian growls.

"Your real name."

"Satoshi."

"Satoshi?"

"That's all I know."

"Who are your parents?"

"My mother's a geisha, Petal-rose. I don't know my Dad."

"Would you like us to question him, my lord? I'm sure that we could make him more . . . forthcoming." Kosaburo gives the kid an unpleasant smile. I guess the kid gave them at least as much trouble as the Pikachu . . . I notice a few bite marks on Kosaburo's arm and allow myself a small but dignified smirk.

"That . . . won't be necessary." Sakaki-daimyo manages to convey an enormous amount of disapproval in a short pause. "As far as we know this is the only person capable of any kind of control of the Pikachu."

"If you think I'm going to help you, you're wrong!" The kid bursts out angrily. "The Pikachu doesn't want to be here! It--ow!"

My eyes water in sympathy. The Persian has taken a swipe at the kid, and blood trickles down his cheek from the parallel slashes.

Sakaki-san continues in a calm tone. "There are other ways to use the boy to ensure the Pikachu's cooperation. Leave us," he orders Kosaburo and Yamato shortly. "See to your forces and Pokémon."

"As you command, Great-lord," Yamato bows and leaves, Kosaburo following.

Sakaki-daimyo continues to pat the Persian who still bristles at the kid. The room settles into the same sinister silence as before the interruption.

"That hurt!" The kid really can't take a hint.

Sakaki-daimyo graciously ignores him. "In future you will think twice about what you say to the Lord of the Poison-clan. You ought to be grateful I've taken an interest in a commoner like yourself."

"I want Pikachu back."

"Really? Tell me Satoshi, how did you become, uh, acquainted with this Pikachu? No lying now. My Persian can sense defiance you know."

"Uh," the kid glances at the Persian sitting smugly under the daimyo's hand. "I just did. The messenger with him, well I met him and he let me take the Pikachu out of his cage and it seemed to like me so I went along with him when he left and that's all."

"Oh, really? Do you know anything about the Storm-clan?"

"The storm-clan? They're the old-master-clan aren't they? Um . . . they train storm type Pokémon?"

The Persian hissed at him, purely in dislike this time. Sakaki-daimyo glanced down at it amused.

"They trained storm-type Pokémon," the past tense was emphasised unpleasantly. "They were in the way of the poison-clan's ascendancy, boy. And so . . . I took care of them. Pokemon and all."

The kid stares at him. Kojiro and I share a horrified glance. Okay we'd heard the rumours . . . but we'd never believed them!

"You not want to get on by bad side, boy," Sakaki-daimyo said softly. "Remember this and think long and carefully on your choice of actions." He stroked that spoilt-good-for-nothing cat again and it purred. "I think that's as far as this interview goes," He said. "Musashi, Kojiro?"

We stepped out of the shadows.

"Escort our guest to the dungeons and make sure he is secured. Preferably in a cage by himself . . . I would hate for anything . . . untoward to happen to him."

"Leave it to us sir," I said, bowing smartly.

"We won't fail you," Kojiro said. An unfortunate choice of words. I could have kicked him. What did he want to go and remind Sakaki-daimyo of that for?

"I sincerely hope you won't," Sakaki-daimyo said coldly. "Considering how simple this task is."

We gulped. "Of course, Sakaki-daimyo."

"Now get out of my sight."

We hurriedly obey, pushing the kid into the corridor in front of us. When we've got a far enough distance from the ante-room I kick Kojiro.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Did you have to go and remind him of our failure to bring back the Pikachu? How did I ever wind up with you as a partner?"

"Because I was the only one left."

"It was a rhetorical question," I snap. "Now come on, you." I tug the kid forward.

"I have a name," he complains.

"Listen kid," I tell him as we lead him through the many corridors of the Poison-clan stronghold, a dark fort hewn from granite. "We are members of the poison-clan's highest ranking groups of samurai. The only name we need to know is Sakaki-daimyo's."

"That's right," Kojiro agrees. "Oh and the names of the people we're stealing from."

"Yeah . . . and I suppose our own names . . ." I realise this is getting off track. "But certainly not the name of a nobody like you."

"Nobody . . ." the kid looks mutinous.

"Face it kid," Kojiro said shrugging. "Your clothes say you're not from a samurai clan, and if you were from a lord's family, what would you be doing here? You may like the Pikachu but there's no chance that you'll ever get it out of here. What Sakaki-daimyo wants, he gets. And what he gets, he keeps. And what he keeps . . . well, he keeps it pretty good."

"Besides," I say. "Who'd let you train it? A masterless ronin is one thing but a peasant like yourself keeping a Pokémon . . . there's not a lord in the land that will allow you to live."

"I don't care." The kid's face is set. "I'm getting that Pikachu and I'm getting us out of here."

"Well good luck," Kojiro said dubiously as we reached the dungeon and shoved the kid in the nearest empty cage.

"Hey!" He protested.

"Goodnight," I smiled as we left, pulling the door shut behind us and leaving the dungeon to its dark shadows. "Don't let the bed-bugs bite!"

"You're leaving me here alone?"

"Don't worry," Kojiro smiled at me as we left. "You're not alone." As he said that something scuffled in the darkness and we heard the kid start.

"Heh heh heh," I smirked. "You know, this is what being evil is all about."

"What would you two know about evil?" Yamato snapped.

We turned to see her and Kosaburo in the corridor behind us. Kosaburo snickered as Yamato continued.

[ "You two are too incompetent to even grasp the concept."

"Yeah?" I said annoyed. "Well you two talk big but you didn't seem so tough in front of the daimyo before."

"Oh?" Yamato smirked. She opened the fold of her kyoto to reveal a silver badge in the shape of a tear. "You may be interested to learn of our recent promotion to the daimyo's personal force."

"You? On the daimyo's force?" Kojiro sounded as gutted as I felt. Hell, that is what every poison-clan samurai dreams of.

"Of course," Kosaburo shrugged pulling back his kyoto to reveal a similar badge. "Our first task is keeping this stronghold secure. Now if you'll excuse us we're about to collect our new Pokémon."

Kojiro snarled as they passed. "It's not fair!" he whined. "We work hard. We try our best. And they . . ."

"They have to protect the keep," I purred.

"Musashi? Are you okay? It's just . . . you look happy."

I grin. "I have a plan that'll make the daimyo reconsider his latest promotions."

Evil is fun.

It's even better when it's spontaneous.

This was GREAT.

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