The former Rocket stared at her knees. She had clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap in an uncharacteristically ladylike fashion, bouncing her knees up and down impatiently while waiting for any news on the Cerulean gym resident's condition.
It wasn't as though she was worried that she wouldn't pull through. At least, not for any redeemable reasons. She still found the brat to be as annoying as she remembered--always jumping to conclusions about things, always being overdramatic (don't you dare say a thing about being the pot or the kettle...). She doubted highly that she had grown up at all. Not from the impression she was given just a few hours ago.
But there had to be a reason that Kasumi was accusing her of being involved with Rocket Dan still. The chances were slim, but maybe Kasumi was her key to finding any leads to the whereabouts of her good-for-nothing former colleagues.
A pang of doubt cut through her thoughts. Why should she care, anyway? So if Kasumi knew something, what then? What was she going to do? S'not like she could seriously consider taking on a huge corporation. And Rocket Dan was even bigger than she remembered it.
She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. But she had made Rocket Dan her life for...for at least five years. She knew some things would never change...and surely some of their key weaknesses were still there.
One thing at a time, Musashi. She told herself, and looked up to the receptionist desk, which had been bleakly vacant for the past hour and a half. This place was so understaffed, even with assistant pokemon coming to the medics' aid, the tournament which was massacred today had a larger-than-expected turn-out, and the victim count was high.
It was a Rocket's dream. Surely Boss would be rewarding whoever pulled this stunt off.
She shook her head, and leaned back in her seat, heaving a sigh. Why am I still thinking like that? He wasn't "Boss" anymore. "That Bastard" is more like it.
She got the attention of an older woman sitting next to her as she heaved another sigh. The old lady leaned over slightly, and Musashi noticed she was eyeing the pokeballs peeking out of her dirty duffelbag.
"You got out of it lucky, didn't you dearie?" The woman smiled sadly, "Poor things...how fortunate that they survived."
Musashi blinked. Rather than telling the old hag to bugger off, she responded in a quiet hush. "There were fatalities?"
"All I know of are several pokemon. I haven't heard of any casualties with the trainers. They are still searching for bodies." The woman stared down at her purse.
Musashi "tsk"-ed and folded her arms over her chest, swinging one leg over her other knee. Well, that's just perfect. She felt the inevitable envy lighten at those words. Then the mission wasn't a complete success. Everyone knows that you're suppoed to snatch up whatever pokemon you can. Killing them is definitely a dent in your track record.
The woman noticed Musashi's freshly glossed lips curl to a slight smile, which she returned. "Yes, sweetie. You should be grateful you were spared the trouble."
Musashi nodded, not quite listening any more. Then the person who did this was obviously not one of the elite. At least, not yet. That narrows it down. Her mind was going full-speed again at the possibilities. She should go back to the site and scour for clues.
((tag Kasumi and anyone else at the hospital!))