"You crawl well enough," I murmur, my voice cutting through the wind. I keep my focus on Leah, a deliberate pressure in my gaze. "But you didn't answer my question. Why were you camping on this ridge? And what, exactly, was your objective for this ambush?"
[POV: Leah]
My stomach twists with humiliation. He knows our names. He sees right through us. Honesty is the only path now. Anything else will just make it worse. Fear for my sister spikes, making me want to speak for both of us, to protect her.
Leah's shoulders hunch tighter, her knees grinding deeper into the gravel. Her hands press flat into the dirt, palms white.
"We… we camp ridges like this to watch the trail," she stammers. "For weak travelers to rob, or… or to battle for gear and badges. Our objective was a quick takedown of lone hikers before Mt. Moon. To build our own reputation without needing gyms."
[POV: Airi]
Leah is speaking. She's giving him everything. My chest aches with fear and a desperate need to mirror her, to show I'm just as submissive, just as willing to yield. If he sees me, I need to be down there too, just like her. Don't make it worse.
Airi stumbles on the ridge and then scrambles down the embankment, dirt skittering under her descent. She hits the trail floor beside Leah and drops to her own knees in the gravel, head bowed low.
"We… we won't anymore," Airi adds, her voice a thin, reedy whisper.
I adjust the leather of my gloves. "You came to ambush me," I say, my voice a low rumble. "Yet here you are, breathing only by my mercy."
I take a slow, deliberate step toward Leah, my shadow swallowing her completely. Fearow lets out a sharp, territorial shriek.
"Strip and Submit," I command. "And I'll trade the execution you earned for the journey you crave—a debt you'll pay for the rest of your lives. I should let my Pokémon finish what you started, but your beauty is a distraction I'm not yet ready to discard."
[POV: Airi]
Everything is cold. The gravel under my knees, the wind... only his voice is hot. I've never been so scared in my life, but if Leah is doing it, I have to too. I don't want to die. Please, just let us live.
Leah's fingers fumble at the zipper of her hiking jacket, the metal rattling as she tugs it down. She shrugs out of the sleeves, the jacket falling to the dirt and leaving her in a thin sports bra. Her skin is flushed a deep pink, pebbled with gooseflesh from the biting morning air.
Beside her, Airi mirrors the motion with a frantic, desperate energy. Her movements are jagged, her small frame shivering violently as she pulls her shirt over her head to reveal a slight, wiry torso. The scent of their fear-sweat reaches me, sharp and tangy, mixing with the smell of crushed pine.
They work in a rhythmic, humiliated sync, reaching for the waistbands of their hiking trousers. Leah shimmies out of her pants first, kicking them aside with a muffled sob. Her thighs are powerful, but they are trembling so hard the gravel shifts beneath them. Airi follows a second later.
They kneel there together on the rocky trail, two stripped-bare trophies of Route 3, their eyes locked on my boots as the shadow of Fearow continues to circle them like a shroud.