Opening Theme 1 / Borderline / ONE OK ROCK

If Sage had to be honest, he would say that he'd rather be sparring with his Gallade than walking under the sweltering sun, talking (or at least trying to) with his band mates. It wasn't that he disliked them, but he just didn't feel like it. His emotions were, to him, wild Pokémon, so wild and uncontrollable that the Master Ball of a heart and psyche could not contain them. Hell, they broke free too easily, especially that strange sadness.

Way too easily.

It was nothing so special for he was indeed the embodiment of the band's name 'Emo-Senpai'. Four members, four humours, four emotions and he had to be the one mainly affined to black bile. He might be wearing a plain white shirt like the rest today, but his mind had other plans.

I can't even crack a joke. If I did, it would have been suicide.

The thought slithered into the fine cracks within his mind, flooding and contaminating the area like the recent oil spill in the Unovan sea. Flocks of Wingull met with the predicament and couldn't take flight. Some ended up suffocating and drowning, only to become prey for a school of Basculin.

How subversive, yet how fitting. Those winged ideas now sink in this dark, polluted ocean, as if anchors were attached, and against their will, they are fading into a foreign darkness.

"Sage." Gin, the vocalist, nudged him and shot him a look of apprehension. The drummer glanced at his friend's spiky black hair and black eyes and responded with a heavy sigh.

Will you look at that! A boy, whose face holds more darkness than this dark brown hair and eyes of mine, actually is phlegmatic for the most part rather than cursed with this melancholia.

"You think there's some funeral going on?" Gin whispered, pointing to a group of four men in suits marching toward them.

Their steps were in sync. They wore the same shades, adopted the same expressions and looked almost identical they might have easily passed off as filial quadruplets on their way to a relative's funeral.

"They don't belong here, not on this Arceus-forsaken island." A blonde-haired boy got in between the two and gave them a cheeky smile. "C'mon, Sage, you've been zoning in and out the whole time. Say something, 'kay?"

Behold! It's Lynx, the choleric Monferno of a boy, here to grace us with his splendid words so charred at the edges by his radiance. Even his guitar bore scratch marks and the strings snapped numerous times when his rays brushed past.

"They're walking towards us," Sage ruffled his hair and narrowed his gaze at the men. No, they certainly should not be here. While there were human residents, androids formed about two-third of the population to make up for the lack of humans. It wasn't too big or great of an island to satiate the burning ideals of youth anyway. All it had was Foncrise City which somehow was large enough to be split into its northern and southern parts, a forest with a river, and Noryuku Academy, the school the four boys attended.

"Say something else, just not the obv— Oh, they stopped in front of us!" Lynx swatted Sage's shoulder.

Uh-huh. Totally not obvious.

"Um, hi kiddos," one of them said. At such close proximity, Sage noted how white their skin was, that it contrasted with their Murkrow-black suits. They seemed so unnatural, so out of place.

"Hi! Whose funer—"

A hand clasped Lynx's mouth and a boy pushed him aside while pushing his hair behind his ears with his slender fingers.

"Sorry. How can we be of help?" He said before silence had the chance to intercept.

The last of the four humours, the sanguine Alain, our beloved pianist. Actually, mainly sanguine. We each have a dominant humour after all. Anyway, Alain here likes to put a scale on everything and determine if something's minor or major.

"We are from Kalos, the region some distance from this island. We are looking for this criminal. We heard he has come to this island. Have you seen this man?" The same guy spoke, and the man on his left showed them a sketch of a male with long, braided hair down to his waist, donned in a tuxedo similar to theirs, black eyes like sludge shining in moonlight.

"No," Gin mumbled. He turned to Sage who gave the sketch a second glance.

He sure looks familiar. Sage narrowed his gaze.

"Be careful, young men. He might just be lurking around the island."

With that, they'd left, humming a tune as they marched away, turning around the corner of a five-storey building some metres away. The four boys simply stared into the distance and gradually glanced at each other.

Sage raised a brow. "Isn't that the infamous Foncrise dead-end alley?"

"Yeah, blame us for being in the Southern part of the city. It's got lots of dead ends it's like a labyrinth." Lynx coughed. "Who designed this city anyway? It's like to keep people out of here."

Footsteps rattled away and grew closer till the men returned into view and brisk-walked toward the Emo-Senpai members, with looks of confusions plastered onto their faces.

"Oh, do be careful when you explore this part of the city. Crafty guy! He must have some kind of Psychic-type to perform some tricks. No matter, kiddos, we'll be on our way." One of them—none of the boys could tell if he the same one who spoke earlier—warned before the four-man group brushed past them.

Sage whirled around and watched as they now turned left two streetlights away from them, and continued in the same direction, venturing further south.

A tiny smile reached his lips and he glanced at his friends who now shared the same grin. They walked off into the opposite direction to northern Foncrise, and only few steps later did they hear the echoing screams.

"Don't they sound almost the same too?" Lynx remarked.

Alain nodded, Gin guffawed and Sage's smile broadened.

No matter what, we all share a common sense of humour. And that's us, Emo-Senpai.

「」

Hours after their afternoon walk, they had their concert and rocked the stars out of the night sky. By the time Sage reached his room when the concert ended, the lone, glowing sickle of a moon shone upon him through the windows of the corridor. After opening the door and locking it behind him, he faced blankets strewn around the room, with moist tissue papers dotting the area. On the bed on his left, a boy with hair as yellow as the sun looked up from the sleek red laptop and smiled at Sage. At the same instant, the bathroom door slid open to reveal a whistling humanoid Pokémon wiping his body with a towel, water dripping from the extendable blades in his elbows.

"Zayn, can't you use your laptop instead?" Sage sighed and turned to face the Pokémon. "Blade, was there a burglar or something?"

"Not a burglar," the Gallade said as he put the towel on the metal rack attached to the blue bathroom wall. He shrugged whilst spinning around. Bending over to clean the mess, he surveyed the room while walking about. As if the walls were alive and listening, he stopped by Sage's side and whispered, "It's a burger. Ya know, fluffy maple-syrup flavoured buns sandwiching one of those succulent fried spicy Torchic patties. I could make one for you now if you want one. Or, if you want the tender Tauros sandwich which is quite the hype nowadays... Or, or! If you crave Qwilfish sash—"

"All I asked was that if there was a burglar here, not a menu in a fast food restaurant or café! Ummm... Do fast food franchises sell sashimi?" Sage smacked Blade's elbow. "And if you have so much time to fry and flip patties, why don't you spend time cleaning this place up?"

The Gallade raised his hands defensively and glanced at the boy typing away soundlessly in the corner of his eyes.

"What? No fair! Zayn's here too. Make him help out."

"Well, I'm busy," replied Zayn with his tenor voice.

"No! How can you humans collude against a weak Pokémon like me?" The Gallade tossed the tissue papers in the bin and went ahead to folding the blankets as his companion remained standing at the threshold.

"Zayn, a Medicham's Psychic- and Fighting-type too, right?" Having earned a nod from his roommate, Sage continued, "Should I get a Medicham instead? I mean, can you believe it, this Gallade, with the same typing, is so weak that folding blankets makes him sweat? I thought it's a simple, sedentary activity."

"Why not? Plus, I think a Medicham's quieter. Do you want to practise mindfulness through meditation? I'm starting to think that's a brilliant idea." Zayn smirked as he touched the screen of his laptop to close a tab. "Well, if we want some peace and quiet, we need a certain Gallade to rest in peace first."

"Fine, I'll leave. Don't stop me."

Blade placed the neat pile of blankets beside Zayn and stormed to the door. Sage stared him down and crossed his arms before stepping aside. The Gallade twisted the doorknob and pulled till his face reddened.

"What? Hasn't the past two years you spent living here taught you that you got to push the door instead? Or did you get a Psycho Cut somewhere on your numbskull?" Sage snarled. "I'm waiting."

Blade bit his lips. "I'm waiting for someone to pull me back."

"Oh, shut it!" Sage yanked the Pokémon backward and pinned him on the floor. The Gallade gulped and pressed his tonfa-like arms against Sage's chest as the boy lowered his body down and his breaths swirled closer to the Pokémon's face.

"Don't. I'm saving my first kiss for a Gardevoir if I ever find one."

"Why would I ever kiss you?" Sage pushed him away, got up and walked over the Gallade's legs to Zayn. "Anyway, what are you looking at, Zayn?"

The yellow-haired boy closed a tab and opened another. "Nothing much. My story's hit the Top Ten Best-Selling Books in bookstores worldwide."

"Which one?"

As the Director of Noryuku's Writers' Guild, Zayn had written numerous stories. The writing club consisted of three members, namely Jade, Mei and Zayn. They each wrote books that have been published all around the world and became popular with the people who never knew who they were. The books only had their author's name, but never a picture of them after all.

"Spirit Shackle, the one about a girl who had her soul swapped with a Rowlet and ended up travelling with a trainer across Alola to find a way to return to being human."

"Oh, I like that one. Congrats!"

"Thanks? Anyway, I'm more concerned with this video that's been circulating around the net."

Zayn pointed to the screen and played a video of a girl standing at a river. She looked familiar with her blue locks of hair falling off her shoulders as if she had just taken a bath. Red diffused in the waters as she wrung the neck of a Pidove as if a wet cloth, the incessant squawks gradually dying down. Tears rolled down her burning cheeks as blood smeared her fingers and dust crumbled in her grip. Then, she dipped the motionless body in the river once more.

"I did what you told me to. I drowned and strangled it. Permission to be friends again, Sayo?"

Her reflection stood alone, quaking with the gentle waves of crimson. Somewhere behind her, beyond the endless rows of trees, will-o-wisps seemed to gather in the near-darkness.

The video ended. A scream broke out.

"What... was that?" Sage breathed out before turning to his companion. "Blade, it's late at night. Don't you scream again."

"Yuzu was filming her again."

"How can you be so calm, Zayn?"

"I'm not."

Zayn scrolled through the comments and an anonymous user had been replying and standing up for the helpless girl, typing against the harsh commenters who called her a devil, a killer and other labels. Squinting at his keyboard, his fingers were set in motion. One down. Two down. Many more to go.

"Oh. I'll go clear my head with a shower."

Sage took his clothes from his wardrobe and entered the bathroom. Zayn saw the drummer's phone lit up and blinked. His hands shook as he picked it up and clicked on the notification.

"I'm sorry to invade your privacy." Zayn read the notification, took his phone from his bed, took a picture of the message and kept his phone. He continued to stare at the message and clicked on the link.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blade popped up beside him.

"Hush hush, Blade."

"I can see it in you." Blade snapped his fingers and studied the boy. "Jealousy. You think this message is from his girlfriend but no, he has none."

"Not that. Someone's going to get hurt from that statement by the way."

"Don't lie. I know your secret."

"What?"

"You're—"

The bathroom door slid open with a creak, revealing Sage with neatly-combed hair, wearing a black shirt with a smiling Gengar imprint and a pair of greyish-green track pants.

"What are the two of you doing with my phone?" Sage said with a hardened look.

"Something's strange. Some unknown number sent you a link."

"Your phone restarted on its own."

"Give it to me," Sage muttered as he took his slender black phone and stared at the screen. He unlocked his phone.

"Is everything alright?" Zayn asked, peering over his shoulder.

Everything seemed to be fine. There was Disschat, NewsWatchog, Torterraria, Tweet-twit and some other apps. Healer Killer was there too.

It had the Red Cross symbol in the middle, surrounded by a white circle, as if sniping at the black background, at a void. The longer Sage looked at it, the more convinced he would sooner or later be consumed by the black hole.

"What's this?" Sage blinked. He entered the app and his phone slipped out of his grip. Red words took over the screen, flashing, waiting. His phone lay in his shadow, camouflaging well, so well that the redness seemed to glare back at him, as if part of his shadow hated him for entering the app.

Quietude came to, followed by the scent of quietus lingering in Sage's mind.

「Welcome to Healer Killer.
Let's have fun together,
Sage.」