June 14th
Three years ago today.
Kratos had felt the tension of the approaching anniversary creeping up on him for weeks now, his control over his emotions slipping just a little as the date grew ever closer. Even his pokémon had begun to tread lightly around him, concerned about being the one that finally caused him to lose the last of his slipping control. And now the day had arrived, and all Kratos wanted was for it to already be over. Once the day had passed, he could return to the process of moving on with his life... but for now, time stood still.
The redhead sat at the tiny desk in his assigned dorm room, fingers mindlessly sorting through the endless papers in front of him, from police reports to evidence lists to his own handwritten notes of his suspects. Some of them were his own supposition, others had been obtained through the connections he had formed while working as a bodyguard... and some of them he was sure weren't exactly obtained legally. But not one of the papers, not - a - damn one, had brought him any closer to finding out who had killed Anna. Who had taken his son.
And with every day that passed with no progress, Kratos felt a little more of his hope die.
'Date: June 14, 20**
Time: 5:23 A.M.'
Kratos' eye caught on the time and date of the incident report, and he tightened his free hand - his left - into a fist. He didn't need to read any more of it to know what it said. Besides, he didn't need anything to prod that memory into the forefront of his mind. It was always there, waiting, though of late it only overwhelmed him near the anniversary. He could feel it pressing against the edge of his awareness even now, seeking to take him over again, and he dug the fingers of his curled hand into his palm to try and fight it off for as long as he could.
As long as he could however, lasted only as long as it took for his eyes to land on the words 'found dead in home'. When Kratos' mind processed those words, not even the concerned pat to his shoulder from Miette could save him from the coming floor. Heaving a great, shuddering breath, the redhead closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. Then the wave of memories crashed over him again, and the only thing he could do was drop the papers, grab his head in his hands, and let them come.
-----
Snowpoint City was always a bit chilly, even in the middle of June. This only became more obvious in the early morning hours, when the chill of the night had sunk in and the sun had yet to beat back its icy grip on the world. Normally, Kratos would have waited to head home until the temperature had risen a little, but he had been gone for nearly two weeks on this job and he wanted nothing more than to get back to his wife and son. Anna had been working with Lloyd on his colors and shapes, and Kratos was - though he would never admit it - eager to help his little son, as well.
As the tall redhead approached his house, his bodyguard's instincts put him on edge as he noticed that something wasn't right. It was only around five in the morning, and not only was it still cold but it was also still a bit dark. Anna and Lloyd should both still be asleep right now, which was the main reason Kratos had set off so early: he had wanted to surprise them both by being there when they woke. But if they were still asleep, then - why was the door standing wide open? Alarm bells began ringing in the young man's mind, and he picked up his pace from a walk to a dead run as he crossed the last few yards to his home.
"Anna?!? Lloyd?!? Where are you?!?" The logical part of his mind screamed at him that yelling like this would only attract the attention of an intruder if there was one, and could possibly put his wife and child in even more danger. The husband and father aspect was the one in control right now, though, and as a result, Kratos was panicking. There was no response, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose at how cold and empty the house seemed.
Then, crossing into the living room, he saw her. The rest of that day - and indeed, much of the next week - passed in a blur of grief, fear, and rage. But Kratos would never forget finding the body of his wife on the floor of their home... and of finding no trace at all of his son. Both mother and child would be pronounced deceased and the investigation would run cold with the murderer never found, leaving their surviving family member with no answers, no closure, and no faith in the police or the justice system.
There was one thing, though - Kratos refused to believe that Lloyd was dead. No trace of the three-year-old had been found, that was true, but neither had the plushie that he always kept with him turned up. To the grieving man, this could only mean that Lloyd was alive somewhere - held against his will, perhaps, or even forgetting his family, but alive. And if he had to act on his own to find him - if he had to become a member of one of the world's most nefarious organizations to have even a chance at locating his son, then he'd take it. The redhead had stopped caring about criminality when he realized that the police were just as corrupt as the criminals - and the police had already failed him.
Besides, what kind of father would he be if he didn't use every opportunity available to him to find his son?
-----
Shoulders quivering a little despite his attempts to regain control of his emotions, Kratos finally managed to drag himself out of the wave of memories. As it always did, the tearing of the wound hurt, but at the same time it eased a little of the constant ache. He wiped at his eyes, then brushed a few tear-spots off of his papers, and reached up to where Miette sat perched on his shoulder, resting his hand on her head. The pikachu made a quiet noise of concern, and Kratos nodded.
"It's passed now," he replied, voice thick and choked with emotion. This was the one day he broke down, the one point in time where he relived the absolute agony of that moment, but now that he had done so it was time to return to his work; to the life that he was living now. Well... almost, anyway. Reaching under his collar, Kratos grasped the golden chain that rested almost over his heart, then pulled out an oval-shaped locket, its catch worn to the point where it almost fell open into his palm.
The picture inside the locket was was beginning to fade a little, and was dotted along the edges with the marks of tears shed in the past. Staring down at it, the redhead carefully stroked his thumb along the face of the smiling brunette with a pink pikachu on her shoulder, then repeated the action for the baby she held in her arms. Then he turned his gaze on the young man he had been, who stood there with his arms wrapped around both of them, smiling at the camera with a gleam in his eye that had been snuffed out entirely on this day three years ago, and he glared at that young man - that confident, happy young man who had no idea that the world was such a corrupt and pointless place.
"You were a fool," he murmured to that young man. "You were a fool, and they paid the price." Then, without another glance at the picture, Kratos slammed the catch on the locket shut, dropped it back into its place beneath his collar, and stood up. The motion was so sudden that Miette had to tug her trainer's hair to keep from falling, but she didn't scold him. Kratos apologized anyway, then walked out of the dorm room without looking back.
His team had training to do.
