Hiroshi opened the door to reveal two figures on the doorstep. Makima stood in front, one hand raised as if about to knock again. She was a young woman, mid-twenties perhaps, with a calm, commanding presence. Her auburn hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and she wore a tailored charcoal-gray suit that marked her as someone important. Sharp, amber-brown eyes – like those of a fox – softened slightly at the sight of Hiroshi. Behind her loomed Yoshimura, a silver-haired older man with a gentle smile and tired eyes that had clearly seen a lifetime of secrets. Yoshimura was dressed more casually, in a simple sweater and coat, looking every bit the kindly grandfather – if one ignored the subtle alertness in how he held himself.
"Hiroshi," Makima greeted, her red-tinted lips curving into a rare smile. "It's good to see you… safe." There was a hint of emotion in that last word – relief, perhaps, carefully restrained.
"Director," Hiroshi replied with a respectful nod, stepping aside to beckon them in. Technically, Makima had been the Director of PSIA Intelligence Division, a joke of a division before she took over, long before he left Japan – but something about the confident way she carried herself now (and Daisy's earlier reassurance) made him suspect her title had changed. Yoshimura followed with a nod of his own, patting Hiroshi's shoulder fondly as he entered. "Son," the older man said warmly. He had been Hiroshi's mentor when the young agent first joined the intelligence world, and even now he addressed Hiroshi with familial affection.
As the door closed, Makima's keen gaze swept over the dim interior. She took in the curious eyes peering from behind furniture and the array of Pokémon cautiously watching her arrival. Makima was one of the few in PSIA who knew about Hiroshi's unconventional team. Still, seeing so many rare Pokémon lounging casually in a living room was extraordinary. An amused glint appeared in Makima's eyes as she noted Milotic's makeshift bath and Daisy's protective stance near Hiroshi. "I hope we're not interrupting a party," she said lightly.
Hiroshi managed a chuckle. "Just a quiet morning at home," he replied. He gestured to his Pokémon. "You remember Daisy, of course." At her name, Daisy gave Makima a polite nod – a small, respectful bow of her head. The Gardevoir's eyes glowed softly for an instant as she murmured a telepathic greeting that Makima couldn't hear, but the gesture alone conveyed respect. "And Raichu, Dragonair… Wartortle, Ivysaur, Charmeleon…" Hiroshi pointed them out in turn. Each Pokémon responded in their own way: Raichu hopped up with a little salute of his paw, Dragonair bowed her long neck gracefully, Wartortle waved enthusiastically, Ivysaur grumbled a shy hello, and Charmeleon flashed a cheeky grin. Lairon stomped one heavy foot in greeting (earning a quick wince from Hiroshi at the thought of the floorboards), and Swablu trilled from atop Lairon's shoulder. Alakazam inclined his spoon-holding hand in a polite wave from the back. Even Akemi the Kirlia, no longer shy now that friends were here, popped out from behind Hiroshi's leg to give a tiny curtsy.
Makima's eyebrows raised slightly higher with each introduction. "You've expanded the family," she observed, her tone gently teasing but genuinely impressed. When her gaze fell to Machop – still seated on his blanket, looking unsure – she paused. This one she didn't recognize. "And who's this little fellow?" she asked softly, careful not to startle him.
Machop instinctively stiffened under her attention; new human visitors still made him wary. He scrambled to his feet, perhaps thinking he should stand at attention like a soldier again. Hiroshi stepped over and put a reassuring hand on Machop's back. "This is Machop," he explained. "He's… new with us." There was a wealth of meaning in those words that Makima, being well-informed, likely understood. Her smile turned gentler. She crouched slightly, bringing herself closer to Machop's eye level without coming too near. "Hello there, Machop," she said kindly. "I'm Makima. A friend of Hiroshi's." Machop looked up at Hiroshi, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, Machop relaxed and managed a polite nod back to Makima. He didn't speak, but the fact he didn't retreat was a good sign.
Yoshimura, standing beside Makima, gave a low chuckle. "You've built yourself quite the team, Hiroshi. I remember when it was just you, Raichu and Daisy." His old eyes crinkled with pride. He had known Hiroshi since the beginning – likely recalling a time when a teenage Hiroshi had only his first two partner Pokémon by his side. "They've all chosen to stick with me through a lot," Hiroshi replied, reaching down to scratch Raichu behind the ear as the electric mouse came up to his side. Raichu leaned into the affection and gave Yoshimura a friendly sniff, perhaps remembering the old man from past brief meetings.
Makima straightened, business reasserting itself in her posture after the brief moment of levity. "We have a lot to discuss," she said, meeting Hiroshi's eyes. "If you're feeling up to it?" She phrased it politely, but Hiroshi knew there was urgency behind her words. He noticed faint shadows under Makima's eyes – as if she hadn't slept well in some time – and a tension in her shoulders that belied her otherwise composed demeanor.
Hiroshi nodded. "Of course. Let's go upstairs. We can talk freely there." He preferred not to discuss sensitive matters in front of the entire team, both to keep them at ease a little longer and because he had a feeling some of what Makima would say wasn't good news. He caught Daisy's eye and gave a subtle nod. The Gardevoir understood: she would keep an eye on things down here and ensure their conversation upstairs stayed private (likely jamming any listening devices as a precaution, though it was doubtful any were in a PSIA-maintained safehouse).
As Hiroshi led Makima and Yoshimura upstairs to a small study, his Pokémon resumed their gentle activities – the initial excitement of visitors fading into a calm vigilance. Daisy ushered the others to give their trainer space. Raichu hopped back onto the couch but kept one ear tilted toward the ceiling, as if listening protectively. Machop settled back onto his blanket, glancing up the staircase with curiosity. On the second floor, a door clicked shut, and muffled voices began conversing.