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Hey can u write an ikarishipping headcanon.. Because I really liked the way you write!

Most of my pokemon headcannons are on my last post, but here is one short little rambling

breathless

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Sometimes Shinji gets knocked breathless, at the most random moments. It doesn’t matter if he’s training his Pokémon, visiting his brother, or whatever — suddenly he’s knocked breathless, like he’s been punched in the gut.

He knows what it means too — Hikari. He’s been too long without Hikari.

Shinji often loses track of time when he’s busy or caught up training his Pokémon, so he sometimes forgets about the emotional attachments in his life.

This feeling he has — this winded, longing emotion? It reminds him. It’s this need, breathtaking and jarring that surprises him with the force it comes with. He has to see her, no matter if she’s screaming or smiling at him.

When he was younger he used to ignore the feeling, just carry out his day like nothing happened. Like his chest wasn’t feeling empty for no reason. Shinji wasn’t going to usurp his schedule for a girl.

It was strange though.

He gets knocked breathless with longing, and his chest feels hollow and icy; whenever he meets up with Hikari and walks away again, it feels like his heart is walking away with her.

It’s always worse when he walks away from her than when he meets up with her. Ice feels like it’s permanently settled in his lungs and seems like there is a huge gaping hole in his chest.

He gets knocked breathless seeing her, too, at first with shock, then at this feeling in his chest. It punches him in the gut, soft yet forceful; his lungs suddenly breathless and his feet pulling him to her until he’s walking right beside her.

Was she always this pretty when he saw her? Were her eyes and hair really that blue?

Shinji gets knocked breathless, at the most random of moments, and he has no choice but to follow the feeling back to Hikari.

***

It follows him as an adult, too. As the Champion of Sinnoh, Shinji gets called away a lot to attend important meetings and to manage the region.

Sometimes Shinji gets knocked breathless, at the most random moments. It doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of conference or participating in a battle — he’s suddenly knocked breathless, like he’s been punched in the gut.

Need and longing and heartache mix together into this breathless combination — and he doesn’t ignore it.

Shinji cancels whatever appointment he has going on and flys back home.

He’s been away from Hikari for too long.

hi, I read your post pokeguys with affection and as an ikarishipper I really liked the headcanon about them. Want read more of your headcanons about them😍

I sort’ve wanted to expand on this, so hope you don’t mind!

falling

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When Dawn realizes that she loves Paul, she does not handle it smoothly. She panics, denies, and avoids the thought and subject entirely because how in Arceus’s name did she fall for him?

They were in a casual relationship. Paul was making his way to being Sinnoh Champion, and after her win as Top Coordinador she was getting more attention from the public.

Dawn had dated her fair share of guys before she got together with Paul, and even then, she knew she was quick to fall in love. She was always the first to give into feelings and pursue the relationship further.

When her and Paul started dating, it was an unspoken thing that it wouldn’t be serious. They both had things going on, and frankly, no one thought that they would last long. They were too different.

But now, a year into the relationship, and they were still together. They just seemed to fit; they worked on their differences and grew together, taking each day step by step. Paul opened up to her more than he did with anyone else, and Dawn was touched that he trusted her enough with his feelings. It seemed even Reggie didn’t know Paul as well as she does.

Paul may not be the most physically affectionate, but he was very observant. He gave her gifts that he knew she’d been eyeing, asked her how she was when she was having a bad day, gave good advice when she was having problems, and helped her when she needed it.

She liked when they went out on dates, how he seemed to remember things she said or did because they were important to her. How he shared his thoughts with her, because having feelings for someone and trusting them with their heart were two entirely different things.

And Dawn … Dawn loved him; from his ambition to his confidence to his dedication to reach his goal.

She loved that, and loved him — but she also knew his flaws. She knew that he would reject and pull away from anything that would take him away from his dream.

And it crushes her, knowing she wasn’t worth it. It hurts, having to bite her tongue if she feels an “I love you” bubble up.

Selfishly, Dawn keeps the realization to herself because she doesn’t want to scare him off.

So if her eyes shine brighter than normal whenever Paul wins a battle, or if her smile is wider than before when they kissed—

No one was none the wiser.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Surprisingly, Paul is the first one to say “I love you”.

It’s been two years since he and Dawn have started dating, and Paul was surprised that they lasted that long. They were too different, and Paul was shocked at how easily she slipped into his life. How easily he got used to her.

It was insane; Dawn had a smile that was as bright as her personality and eyes as expressive as her heart. Her encouragement made him believe and drove him to do better and her enthusiasm made him smile. Her sarcastic comebacks and snarky one-liners both amused him and drove him crazy. Her temper kept him on edge and her anger keeps him up for days on end.

Dawn was kind and compassionate and fierce and independent. She was confident and driven, and would stop at nothing to achieve her goal. He liked the small things about her: how she said no need to worry when there was a definite need to worry. How she was always smiling and bubbly, even if it was annoying. He even liked how she took her coffee, even though that amount of sugar she put should be illegal.

He never thought he’d fall for someone. He never even knew that these types of feelings existed.

Dawn is in his apartment after staying the night (he has no idea how that happened) making breakfast. She was humming to herself while she cooked as Paul sat at the counter and watched her.

It suddenly occurred to him as he watched her do little spins in the kitchen how much he liked this: Dawn in his kitchen, in his apartment, in his clothes as she spun around cheerfully; with her bright smile and her shining eyes and her messy blue hair.

He liked this, which was weird since Paul didn’t really like anything, but … he wanted this. Her, here.

“I love you.”

The words slip out before he even realizes it. They hang in the air, too late to take back or mull over. He says it like a realization, and it was— a realization that Dawn’s been in his life for so long and he doesn’t know what to do without her in it.

That he wants her in it.

Dawn drops the plate in pure shock. She whips around and stares at him. “What?” She laughs nervously, bending down to pick up the broken pieces of the plate. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? Cause I could have sworn that you said—”

“You didn’t,” he interrupted. “I love you.”

Dawn dropped the broken pieces of the plate.

Paul stares back, waiting.

He was nervous, Dawn realized. His eyes were wavering and he was fighting to keep his hands still and his shoulders were tense.

Something in her gut relaxes. Then we’re both in the same boat, she thought.

A pink blush climbs its way up her face. Her eyes shine and she smiles, not taking her gaze of Paul’s.

“I love you, too,” she says, finally.

Hey so like I recently started getting into ikarishipping and I found your stuff and like???? It's so good???? I need more???? I wanted to request more fluffy hcs and stuff for them, but I totally understand if you don't wanna

listen

Ok, I know this isn’t a headcannon but I was inspired to write this little fic about them, so hope you don’t mind. This was sitting in my drafts for so long now until I finally worked up the courage to get it done.

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Dawn places the finishing touches on Piplup’s outfit, clapping appreciatively as her starter proudly strikes poses in his little cheerleader prince uniform.

“Let’s go show everyone your outfit!” Dawn picks up Piplup and beams as he chirps his agreement.

Dawn exits the room, heading out to meet Ash, Barry, and Brock to talk about the match today. It was the early morning of the Pokémon Sinnoh League, with Ash and Paul finally facing off. After a full year of battling and insults the two were about to meet in the semifinals.

Dawn makes her way down the hall, footsteps echoing. Ash against Paul … it would certainly be a battle to be remembered. It had been a long time since Lake Acuity. Since their very first battle. Ash and his team have only grown stronger since then, and so has Paul.

They all had.

“… I have one last thing to tell you,” a voice suddenly cuts across the lobby and turning around, Dawn gasps and ducks before Paul sees her.

Piplup turns around with a questioning “Pip?” and Dawn claps a hand over his beak. Piplup releases a silent squawk of rage before pecking her hand indignantly. Dawn shakes out her hand with a quiet hiss before pressing a finger to her lips and glaring in a ‘be quiet’ motion. Piplup glares right back before he settles down to eavesdrop. Dawn pokes her head over the counter to watch.

“Paul? Win this. Don’t underestimate Ash’s skill — then win the whole thing!”

Paul’s lips curve into a smile. “I will.”

Reggie hung up with a “Later, Paul,” before Paul turns around — only to meet Dawn’s startled blue eyes.

Dawn froze in embarrassment, a pink blush staining her cheeks once she realizes she’s been caught staring. Paul looks taken aback, staring at her with surprised onyx eyes.

Say something, stupid, her brain says as silence starts to creep between the two.

“Umm …” Dawn laughs nervously, and Paul turns on his heel and begins walking away. She nearly facepalmed herself. Really, that’s what she comes up with?

“That was Reggie you were talking to, right? So, is he coming here today?” Dawn hastily tries to cover up her lack of verbal skills by asking him a question, but she must’ve said the wrong thing because Paul begins walking faster.

Dawn felt stupid. Of course Reggie wasn’t coming, Paul was just on a phone call with him, and Veilstone City was too far to make it in an hour. Before she could wallow in her own self-pity, Paul spoke up.

“So, how’s he doing?” Paul practically sneers.

“Uh, you mean how’s Ash?” Dawn asks. She exchanges a questioning look with Piplup before realizing Paul is almost at the door. She runs after him. “Wait! If you ask a question, don’t you want to hear the answer?”

Dawn catches up with him, falling in a step or two behind him. The brisk morning air hits her face and clears her head. “Ash is doing some last minute training with his Pokémon. Want me to get him?”

“Please don’t. No need.”

“Why did you ask about him then?”

“ … I don’t know.”

Oh great, Dawn thinks sarcastically. Dawn realizes she’s fallen behind him and hurries to catch up.

What do we even say to each other? She thinks nervously. The awkwardness is probably one-sided as she doubts Paul cares about that sort of thing, but it’s all Dawn can think about. 

As a coordinator, Dawn prides herself on being able to entertain the audience and appeal to the judges. Her entire career depends on people’s opinions and how they view her. 

But Paul? Paul was unreadable. She had no idea what he was thinking, much less feeling. 

Should she just peel off, say she forgot something? But they were walking in the same direction. Should she ask him about his Pokémon, if he was ready for his battle? But would Paul get defensive and snap at her? Would Paul even notice if she fell back and walked by herself?

“I just don’t like him,” Paul says suddenly. Dawn’s head whips up. Was Paul actually talking about his feelings? Verbally expressing how he felt? In front of her?

Dawn suddenly felt like she’s walking on a live wire. 

“He talks just like my brother. Friends, trust … my brother says those things all the time too.”

“But Paul, Ash isn’t Reggie. Ash is Ash, and that’s that.” Dawn protests.

“PAUL!”

“Hey Dawn! Paul!”

The two look up to see Barry and Ash racing towards them with bright grins on their faces.

“Look, Ash is like any other trainer I’d have to battle in the quarter-finals … and I’m going to have to beat him if I want to win the Sinnoh League.”

Dawn stares at Paul with an open mouth. Wow. She had no idea Paul felt those things — that he is even feeling things at all. She knows Ash, his nervousness for the battle manifesting in his training and his determination. But Paul is feeling things about the battle too. 

Dawn feels his determination, his strength for what is ahead. The way he speaks and how his eyes focus up ahead — past her, past Ash — as if there is more waiting for him to achieve. 

It makes Dawn realize that being the Sinnoh Champion isn’t just Ash’s dream — it was Paul’s too. The way Paul trained his Pokémon and how he let go of Chimchar — it was ruthless and wrong, but suddenly Dawn realizes it was for a purpose. Paul wasn’t power-hungry for no reason. 

Paul is ambitious and determined and focused and level. His strength to push past things and focus solely on his goal is what makes him powerful, not his Pokémon. His ambition drives him to do better and his determination is what forces him to never stop. This battle with Ash is a stepping stone to something greater, and Paul is going to do everything he can to beat him. 

And Dawn could respect that. 

*** 

Ash and Paul’s battle is as heart-pounding as Dawn expects.

She’s cheering for Ash, calling out encouragement as Piplup cheers and Brock yells. She is rooting for him because she’s his friend, and one little conversation with Paul won’t change that. 

But still, between Barry screaming in her ear and the roaring audience, a small part of her thinks she wouldn’t mind it if Paul won.

Of butterflies and roses

Summary: Drew hadn't fallen for May first; he been struck, curious about this doe-eyed girl in a bandana — distracted, fumbling, so very nervous —and her Beautifly. Drew liked to pay attention to people, how they got to who they were. It helped him in contests, to weed out who would be the real competition. Drew saw May playing with her little frisbees and thought, “She wouldn’t make it.

But now — now, Drew leaned forward and stared as May stumbled onstage and proceeding to blindside the audience with her plastic frisbees; with five Stringshots, a Gust, and one beautiful Silverwind.

A small smile made its way onto his face.

“Huh, what do you know?” Drew said to himself. “That wasn’t too bad at all.”

***

Or: a love story about surprises and realization

***

When Drew first sees May playing on the beach with her plastic pink frisbees he thought she was a joke.

Contests were a serious thing and they weren’t for the faint of heart. Drew has seen many bright-eyed amateurs bounce on stage to perform their shallow appeals before running off in tears when they lost. Drew knows this girl will be no different.

Because her idea of an appeal was pathetic and lame. Her performance lacked flair and finesse, and was much too shallow. She had no style, baseless confidence, and her naïveté was going to get her as far as her performance will.

Beautifly sends a Gust at the frisbees, and the girl daintily catches two of them on a spin as her friends cheer.

Drew watches in amusement as the third sails right over her head and catches it.

***

The girl passes the appeal round and is matched up with Drew right off the bat.

After their first meeting, she is determined to beat him and win the contest, and Drew scoffs at the fairy tale. He has more experience than she could ever hope for under his belt, and he can’t wait to beat her.

In the end, he leaves her in tears on the stage. She’s slumped to the ground by her Beautifly, her lips pressed into a wobbly line as tears glass her eyes. Drew gets a sudden sense of deja vu as he stares at her; he’s reminded of his first loss — his very first loss against Solidad. He remembers the feeling of defeat and devastation and turns away.

At least in his first contest he made it into the finals. With her, it seems like she barely trained for the battle round at all. (He is a little bit disappointed — he was hoping she would put up as much of a fight as she did their first battle.)

With this loss, Drew would see what type of person May would be.

Would she give up like many others have when they faced him, or would she stand up and try again?

***

Drew takes his loss against Robert hard, but moves on by training harder and winning another contest. He tells Solidad about him in one of their weekly calls, but carefully leaves the girl he’s met out of it. He still hasn’t decided on what type of trainer she is, and there will be no point in telling Solidad about her if she never shows her face again after defeat.

He spends his time training Roselia and Trapinch, searching for a new partner for his team, and winning himself another ribbon before heading to Fallarbor Town for a contest. He’s heard the competition is going to be steep.

Occasionally, he thinks of the girl in the bandana and her Beautifly, but it’s a thin, fleeting thought he easily dismisses in his busy days.

***

When Drew sees her training in Fallarbor Town, he feels something startling and surprising in him. His eyes are immediately drawn to her and he can’t help but make his way over to her to tease her about her botched up combinations — (because really, how can a coordinator not know about combinations?)

Based on their first meeting, May doesn’t like Drew. He’s arrogant and criticizes her and offers nothing good to say about her combinations. Drew shows off his newly acquired ribbons and tells her she has no shot of winning a competition this steep.

He walks away, mouth uncurling into a grin and hopes the fire he’s sparked in May will be enough to make this contest a memorable one.

***

It's Drew who loses in the Fallarbor Contest, and normally he would be upset about that if it weren’t for the fact of who won.

May won the Fallarbor Contest, and with nothing but her own skill and talent. She took the same combinations he made fun of and turned them into something elegant and powerful. She and Beautifly beat Grace and won the ribbon — her very first ribbon — and May’s never looked more alive and in sync with her Pokémon.

Drew feels reluctant admiration, pride, and (strangely) joy press into his gut and leave a tingling sensation throughout his body.

May finally did it; and although Drew still thinks that she wouldn’t have been able to beat him if they were paired up in the first round, her fight against Grace almost deserves a congratulations.

***

It was Roselia’s idea to keep giving May roses, and Drew went along with it. He doesn’t know why exactly, but Roselia is very intuitive and reminds him of Solidad, who is spending her off-season in Kanto training.

He feels like the roses are falling into some sort of routine of theirs, and strangely enough, Drew likes it enough to not want to think about what it means.

“I suppose this rose is for Beautifly, right?” May spins the flower between her fingers and teasingly asks. Her smile is light and playful and Drew feels his stomach suddenly knot in on itself at the sight. He’s not quite sure what to think of that.

“Yeah, something like that.” He keeps his response vague and puzzling before turning away before she realizes that the rose is just as much for her as it is her Pokémon.

***

Drew starts to talk about her to Solidad at around the second contest she wins. That’s two times May has defeated somebody who has beaten Drew, and he is fascinated. He talks to Solidad about their first meeting, how she totally blindsided him with the sudden Silverwind in their first battle. He talks about the first contest she won, the Pokémon she used, and is completely, totally, utterly unaware of the knowing look Solidad has in her blue eyes.

“Looks like you have yourself a rival, Drew,” she interrupts with a grin.

Drew scoffs. How can May ever be his rival?

***

It’s a while before he sees May again, but almost against his will he keeps his ear against the ground for her. He hears she wins the Lilycove Contest and the Purika Contest — after a bit of difficulty, apparently — but hasn't heard anything else.

It’s six weeks until the Pokémon Grand Festival and Drew is just out training his Masquerain when he hears someone call his name. He turns around to see May and her friends waving at him so he makes his way down the cliff to them.

May shows off her four ribbons and informs him that she’ll be entering the Pacifidlog Contest with the same happy-go-lucky smile and bright blue eyes. And because Drew doesn’t not like how she looks at him and he doesn’t like how he doesn’t like it, he makes fun of her enough to challenge him to a battle. It doesn’t get far before a trio calling themselves Team Rocket burst from the ocean and proceed to vacuum them into a giant mechanical Magikarp before exploding.

This is what he gets for spending time with May, Drew thinks as he stares out at the foggy ocean. He and May had woken up on the beach alone, together, surrounded by wreckage and with no idea where the others were. Thankfully, Roderick comes and saves them from their incessant bickering, and they set off to find May’s friends.

Admittedly, Drew is a bit excited to have landed on Mirage Island of all places. Few people have managed to set foot on the land, and it was crawling with liechi berries. That’s why when Drew finally spotted them so close to the cliff, he wasn’t as careful as he could've been.

The earth gives out beneath their feet and as they’re falling the only thought Drew has in his mind is that he’s probably going to die. May grabs onto Bellsprout’s vine, and Drew can tell as she grasps his hand that it's not going to save them.

May’s grip slips and they both hit the water, hands still firmly locked with each other. The current rips them apart and Drew desperately surges to the surface, gasping for air.

“May!” He calls, using whatever air he has left in his lungs. The water is stinging his eyes and roaring in his ears, but he’s still desperately searching for the brown-haired coordinator.

He spots her up ahead, choking on the spray of water and being submerged again and again before Drew swims forward and grabs her arm. Her blue eyes find his green ones, and they’re big and wide and scared as she fights against the current. They struggle to stay above water, Drew trying to support May as much as he can before they hear Roderick’s yell above the buffeting waves: “There’s a waterfall dead ahead!”

Fear freezes his veins. If they weren’t going to die, then they certainly would now. There isn’t any time to think straight before it’s on them, but May tightens her grip on Drew as panic seizes them both and Drew clutches her wrist as hard as he can before they go over.

They slam against the bottom, the impact sweeping them apart before Drew falls unconscious.

When he wakes up it’s nighttime, but the first thing he sees is May’s worried face and big blue eyes. She’s crouched over him, and when he opens his eyes her face breaks out into a big, relieved smile. Drew doesn’t know what happened or where he is, but he does know his heart is doing acrobatics in his chest right now and he feels dizzy with the knowledge that May probably saved his life before the Wynaut did.

The Wynaut are nice and thoughtful for wild Pokémon, and with them Drew and May find themselves becoming more at ease from their near-death experience. May releases all her Pokémon and goes to play with the Wynaut while Drew sits to the side and watches with a small smile on his lips.

The May in front of him right now is totally unencumbered and free. Her smile is big and her laugh is bright and for the first time Drew is able to see her in the light that she is a girl, not just a coordinator. This is the first time they are together outside the context of contests, and that means that the girl he is looking at right now is the real May. Normally when they met May would put up a front and talk all big for the sake of their rivalry, but not now. Now, she is completely natural.

Almost against his will, Drew feels a powerful emotion grow inside him as he watches her.

***

May has grown — slowly and steadily, with the help of her friends and Pokémon. Drew sees her start to win contests, learn strategies, her trust in her Pokémon becoming more prominent with every move she calls.

Alongside his admiration, there is something new and exciting that pulse in his veins now, and it makes Drew determined to win. Solidad calls it competition from across the phone line in Pewter City, and Drew actually feels like laughing.

Because, him? Competitive about May? It hasn’t been that long since she was stumbling through coordinating and trying to figure out combinations. But then, he realizes, it has.

May has grown into coordinating, training her partners and catching new Pokémon. Drew thinks that she can make it into the Grand Festival, and looking deeper, he thinks that he wants to face her there.

Drew knows that Solidad can see the realization on his face and quickly hangs up before she can tease him.

His Vibrava had evolved into a Flygon a while ago, and Drew has a sudden idea about who he wants him to train for.

***

It’s not a surprise to see her at the Grand Festival, but Drew is never going to admit it. May lights up when she spots him and is quickly running towards him with a bright smile. Her enthusiasm makes him smile and as she snatches his rose almost petulantly, he feels the strange emotion bubble up again.

Unfortunately, Harley shows up and May is instantly swept up with his bravado and false promises. Drew already knew she trusts easily and is unfalteringly kind, but Harley was pushing it and May is totally unaware. She almost blows her chances at competing in the Grand Festival battle rounds.

Frustration bubbles up, and Drew knows it’s unreasonable, but May doesn’t get it. She’s made it all the way here, and she was talented, but she still doesn’t get it. To be a coordinator one had to trust in themselves and their Pokémon, and find their own style to make their own Pokémon’s appeal shine through.

And May didn’t get it.

Fortunately for her, she manages to impress the judges enough to pass the appeal round and win her way through the battle rounds — until she’s matched up with him. They face off against each other in the third round of the Hoenn Grand Festival; and as they stare each other down from across the pitch, Drew recalls their first battle. He hasn’t had a real contest battle with May since then, and although Drew knows how it’ll end he still wants to see how she’ll react.

Drew calls out Roselia and Flygon. May’s never seen his Pokémon before, and when he tells her that he raised his Flygon specifically to battle her he can tell she is both flattered and scared.

Drew makes the first move and the battle is on.

***

In the end, it isn’t Drew’s time as Robert comes out on top in the Grand Festival Finals, but it was a good battle and Drew gave it his all. He learned a lot from battling Robert and was already coming up with combinations for next year.

He impatiently waits his way through the closing ceremonies and as soon as the party starts he disappears to the beach to practice with his Pokémon. They train for about an hour before someone stumbles upon them, and Drew turns when he realizes it’s May.

She’s confused about why he’s still training and Drew is reminded that it is her first season of coordinating. He gives her advice before heading on his way, but can’t help but leave her with one last thing.

“I’m hoping to see you back here next year too, May,” he says. “You were good.”

She stares at him, gaping slightly. (Has he really never complimented her before? It seems like she takes up most of his thoughts to not have.) Her sapphire eyes are wide as the seabreeze tousles her hair. He’s suddenly aware of the waves crashing against the shore and the stars shining in the night sky. Drew can barely hear the sounds of the party drifting towards the beach.

For such an open space, it feels so entirely intimate in the moment. May looks beautiful in the moonlight, and the realization of what that means strikes him.

Drew walks away from her, feeling as though someone once so out of his reach becomes touchable for just a slither of time.

***

Drew goes to Kanto for the next contest season and is surprised to see May already there. She’s still as rose-scented, sun-kissed and vibrant as she was in Hoenn and Drew is unable to withhold the realization that he likes her. He really, really likes her.

The realization follows him throughout Kanto, so he throws himself into contests and combinations to avoid thinking about it altogether. His Pokémon notice, but Roselia is the only one who knows and Drew can sense her disapproval. He ignores it — they’re rivals above all and Drew values that — her — more than his feelings.

Still though, he can’t help but go see her. Drew knew so little about her. He could easily spot her voice out of a crowd, but he wanted to hear her stories. There was still so much to May that he didn't know. Drew never really minded being a mystery to the average person (sharing parts of himself was something he was naturally against), but with May he wanted her to know him.

He wondered if she had similar thoughts about him and if part of her wanted to know more.

Drew gathers his five ribbons and heads to the Grand Festival. He’ll see her there.

***

Drew meets up with Solidad the morning of the Grand Festival.

When they first met, Solidad had beaten him and Roselia in the final round of their first contest and then invited him out to lunch afterwards. Although Drew had his reservations, he still went.

Solidad explained that she had a season of experience over him, and that her battle with him had to be the most grueling one she’d ever faced. She was impressed with his performance and wanted to see him again in another contest.

As they competed together more throughout the season and their respect for each other grew, he started to open up to her more and meet up with her more often. It's only natural that Solidad is now his best friend.

They have run into each other a couple of times in Kanto, and had carefully shared contest information and have appropriately planned out their routes so they didn’t meet up at every contest. Still, Drew had looked forward to the towns where their paths were scheduled to cross.

“So, what did you think of May?” Drew asks a bit too casually as he sips his tea. He’s not really a fan of the taste, but Solidad loves it so he drinks without complaining.

“I like her. She’s really sweet and friendly. The total opposite of you,” she says with a teasing smirk.

“Uh huh, sure,” Drew rolls his eyes. “Do I even want to know what you two said about me?”

Solidad’s eyes twinkle. “That’s between girls only. Whatever May says is completely on her own volition.”

“Great. She’s definitely going to rub something in my face now.” Drew takes another sip of tea and struggles to not make a face. Solidad does the same, watching him with calm blue eyes.

“I’m a bit sad you haven’t introduced me to her earlier though,” she speaks up suddenly. “Seeing how much you talk about her. I can see why you like her.”

Drew chokes on his tea, and for once it wasn’t because of the taste.

Solidad knows. She's probably always known, Drew rationalizes, but the knowing smile the older coordinator wears cements the fact that nevertheless, Solidad knows.

But then again, if Drew had really wanted it to be kept a secret, he wouldn’t have introduced them in the first place. But Solidad was his closest friend and Drew liked May (enough to give her advice, give her roses) and he had wanted the two of them to meet.

“She — uh, I, uh — ” Drew stammers. He feels uncharacteristically embarrassed and it throws him off his game. “I — ”

“It’s okay, Drew.” Solidad thankfully cuts him off. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m actually glad you’ve found someone like May. She’s good for you.” Drew’s face burns and Solidad’s face softens as she observes his flustered reaction. “Just … don’t let your feelings get in the way of your performance, okay?”

Drew scoffs at the thought. “Don’t worry, I won’t,” he reassures her.

He may like her, but they're still rivals.

***

It’s a surprise when he sees Ash and Brock come to talk to him instead of Solidad, but figures she’s probably having a talk with May after he snapped at her.

Guilt twists in his chest as he thinks of her hurt expression before he ignores it and turns to face the sunset. Don’t let your feelings get in the way of your performance, Solidad had said. Drew internally scoffed. She should have said, “Don’t let her performance get in the way of your feelings.”

Seeing her perform with her Munchlax … it shook him. For so long, May had always been the one behind him, chasing after him. It didn’t hit him until today that … she can pass him. She can beat him.

She had changed; she was a threat. He had changed; he was no longer untouchable.

And that scared him.

“Look, I said it was on my mind, alright?” Drew snaps.

“I know that Drew,” Ash clambors down to join him. Pikachu hops down his shoulder.

“Solidad’s having a little talk with May right now. I think it would be a good idea to do the same thing,” Brock says. Drew hmphs.

“You know …” Ash breaks the silence, rubbing Pikachu’s head. “Watching you out there earlier made me think about all the rivals I’ve faced in battle over the years. I never talked to them about how they trained or anything.” Ash turns to face him. “We deal with that on the battlefield.”

Drew can’t help but stare, shocked at the comparison. It's no secret that a lot of competitive battlers don't take coordinators seriously. They saw it as more of a glorified beauty contest than showing off the strength of the Pokémon with appeal. Not to mention, coordinating was more seen as a feminine form of battling, with its emphasis on beauty and combinations.

For a while, Drew thought Ash was one of those battlers — that’s why he challenged him to a battle in Fallarbor Town. But no, Ash is here drawing comparisons from his battling to relate to coordinating. To him and May.

Ash and Brock are here, telling him in their own way that they understood him. That they took his side.

Drew relaxed. “I hear ya,” he chuckles. “We’re rivals, May and I.”

Somehow, that seems to sum up everything and nothing at all.

***

It’s the Kanto Grand Festival at the Indigo Plateau, and it's Drew up against May in the quarterfinals. He walks onto the stage and hears the cheers so loud it makes his ears ring. The atmosphere of the stadium is electric, and Drew keeps his head straight.

His eyes wander across the field to May and he sees the determined glint in her eyes that Drew knows is reflected in her own. Two years, two regions, and two talented coordinators.

They’ve been ready for this their whole lives.

***

In the end, it’s only one of them who can win, and after a long, grueling battle, the winner is decided.

The screams and cheers from the stadium are overwhelming so Drew closes his eyes and takes a breath, steadying himself.

The battle was incredible. May was incredible.

She is still standing there, staring up at the scoreboard in disbelief and unable to believe what it reads. She’s surprised, shaky from the battle, but happy-ecstatic and Drew is proud to have lost to her. It's been two years since they met, since he first saw her on the beach of Slateport City with her plastic pink frisbees, and since then she’s been surprising him ever since. They’ve both changed since they first met; the final battle an accumulation of everything they learned on their journey.

Absol slowly makes his way to him, head already bowed in defeat. His Pokémon took his losses harder than Drew did, but this time the trainer wasn’t feeling bad about this one at all.

Absol looks up in surprise when Drew reaches forward and rubs his head. “Thank you, you fought hard. You're the best, Absol.” Absol lights up at the praise, gratefully pressing his head into his hand.

Drew turns to notice May’s gaze on him, questioning and uncertain. She’s worried about how he’ll take the loss against her, and suddenly the feelings Drew has tried to keep from fully consuming his heart come forth.

It’s because she surprises him. She’s surprised him from the very beginning — from the first time they met, the first time they ever competed, the first time he truly saw her — and she kept on surprising him, whether it be her skill or her passion or her love towards people and Pokémon. Drew hadn’t fallen in love with May; he was struck, stunned by the care and awe he has for her. She completely blindsided him and turned his world upside-down. He never would have imagined that the girl he had met on the beach would turn into one of his greatest rivals.

Drew’s eyes soften, mouth pulling into gentle smile as he nods. It’s okay. He lost, but it was to May and he is okay with that because she more than deserves her victory. May beams at his approval, throwing her arm around Combusken in celebration.

Drew watches for a moment longer before closing his eyes and turning away, smiling.

***

Drew doesn't stick around after the festival. His bags are packed and he’s headed out. Drew has no new destination in mind, so he just travels around Kanto, exploring the parts he didn’t get to see before. He spends two months just wandering, training and discovering himself. His mind is on May, and coordinating, and on where to head next for the next Grand Festival.

Drew finds a beautiful lake — a glittering expanse of blue in front of him — with plenty of open space to practice some tricky appeals he has been working on. He calls out Roselia and Masquerain and they work on some doubles appeals for around an hour before Drew gives them a rest. Roselia wanders along the shoreline, looking happy and relaxed while Masquerain flutters around the lake.

Suddenly, to his surprise, Roselia runs towards her trainer, exclaiming happily. Drew blinks, alarmed, before he hears a familiar voice speak up behind him.

“Hey, Drew!”

Drew turns to see Solidad approaching with Slowbro, a smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?" Drew asks before he can stop himself.

Solidad laughs. "Jeez, it's nice to see you too."

Drew smirks and waves his hand at her. "You know what I meant."

"Well, am I not allowed to want to see you?” Solidad asks gently. “You practically ran away from the afterparty of the Grand Festival, and I’ve barely heard from you.” She settles on the grass right next to him as her Pokémon goes to greet his.

Drew runs a hand through his hair and winces. “Sorry. I've been busy.”

Solidad shakes her head. “Typical of you, isn't it? But don't you think you’ve trained enough?”

Drew shrugs and says nothing; she knows what his answer is. They both watch as Roselia comes forward and Solidad rubs her head. “So, have you decided on where to go from here?”

“I think I’ll head to the Johto region next.” Drew says. “What will you do?”

“Johto too, I think.” Solidad turns to meet his gaze. “Just because I became a Top Coordinator doesn’t mean I want to stop. I want to keep coordinating, traveling, and winning. I want to be a master coordinator and be accepted into the Ribbon’s Syndicate.”

Drew smirked and closed his eyes. “Yeah, you’re not the only one, you know.”

The Ribbon Syndicate was a big ordeal for coordinators alike. It was a private, special organization that only coordinators with a legendary status could call their home. Members would finally earn that sought after "Master" status and finally become a part of the world's elite, setting an example for all young coordinators alike.

Solidad smiles. It’s quiet for a while, both of them watching their Pokémon get along before she speaks. “I gave her your rose, you know. She caught you as you were leaving, right?”

Drew tenses, before he relaxes. “Yeah. Thanks for giving it to her. I … couldn’t give her that one in person.” It feels entirely too honest than he meant it to be, so he avoids Solidad’s eyes as she studies him.

When Drew had first given roses to May, it was a mocking. The flowers were filled with taunts about how her Pokémon were carrying her to victory. Then Drew had started to notice May, and his roses became fleeting — everyone knows what red roses meant. How could Drew give out roses when he didn’t even know who he was really giving them to?

But now this one was different. After everything — their fight, their battle, the final leg of their journeys — the rose held a different meaning now. It is a confession of his affection, respect, and awe for her.

It was the only genuine rose.

And they both knew it.

“Here,” Solidad holds out a shrunken Pokéball and Drew takes it. He glances down at it and blinks.

“This is Butterfree’s Pokéball,” he says, surprised. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because you need it,” she says simply. “You’ve done enough reflecting, Drew. You need to get out of your head, and the best way to do that is with a new partner. He’s yours now.” She stands up as Slowbro wanders towards her and returns him.

“Where are you going?” Drew is still reeling.

“To Johto,” Solidad raises a brow as if to say ‘obviously’. “And you’re going to Fennel Valley.”

“What’s in Fennel Valley?” Drew is scared to ask.

“You’ll see.” Solidad smiles.

***

Drew does end up making his way to Fennel Valley and runs into May. As soon as he sees her, he understands why Solidad sent him here instead of going to the Johto region first.

Drew feels like he’s seeing himself a week ago. May is lost, out of sync, and confused. It’s a mental thing he’s seen in himself and other coordinators stuck in a rut, and Drew tries to pull her out of it.

He challenges her to a battle, his heart beating faster when he sees the fire relight in May’s eyes.

They’re talking outside later — May sitting beyond the fence while he leans against it — and Drew tells May he’s going to Johto. He studies her reaction, trying to see how she’s feeling, and watches her eyes lower as she leans against the fence with him. “It’s pretty there, right now,” she says.

Drew gazes at her. She’s looking at the sunset, how the pinks, reds, and golds reflect off the mountains. The sprawling region in front of them looks beautiful, but Drew can’t seem to take his eyes off May. There’s no moonlight this time — May’s dripping with the sunset glow, chestnut hair waving in the wind, azure eyes deep and Drew feels like his heart is going to crawl out of his chest looking at her.

He really, really loves her.

Harley interrupts, as he always does, and soon he and Drew have to leave. May calls out goodbyes behind him as he walks away, and Drew raises a hand in return.

Life insists on — they’re rivals, May and him. They will always come together. As frequently as roses bloom, they will meet each other, again and again.

First Meetings

Summary: May and Drew meet for the first time, and it goes about just as well as you expect it to.

……… | flirting, fighting, and explosions. Not necessarily in that order. |

DREW

………

Drew against the bridge that was facing the shoreline and watched. The girl in a red bandanna was flinging frisbees at her Beautifly — and failing.

“Amateur,” Drew said in his head. The Beautifly had just failed to complete the move Silverwind. “You’re too nervous, Beautifly is sensing it.” He thought.

“You’re not on the same wavelength. You’re rushing your commands.” Drew recited in his head. He watched the three guys cheer up the girl that had just sunk to the ground in defeat.

A rugged boy around Drews age with messy raven hair and a red hat was encouraging the girl enthusiastically, a Pikachu by side.

“Whatever,” Drew let out a breath and closed his eyes, flipping his green hair from his face. That girl could try her hardest to perfect Silverwind, and those guys can keep on being her personal cheerleaders, but by the end of the contest he was going to end up on top.

“WATCH OUT!” a feminine voice suddenly shouted at him.

A lazy smirk glided along Drew’s mouth like an unwinding ribbon, and he didn’t move a muscle. Drew held out a hand and let the frisbee fly right into it. The cold, hard plastic pressed against the palm of his hand as he heard the girl footsteps against the sand as she reached the front of the bridge.

“I’m sorry,” she panted when she came to a stop.

Drew leaned against the banister and spun the girl’s frisbee around his finger, scoffing, “Please don’t tell me you’re planning on entering the Pokémon contest with the cheesy act like that.”

Drew almost jolted when the words came out of his mouth. He was almost about to apologize before he stopped. He was Andrew Hayden, and Andrew Hayden never apologizes.

Eyes still closed, Drew tossed the toy at the girl's feet and jumped off the bridge, navigating his way to the girl and her personal cheerleaders with ease. Now closer, Drew could feel her offense rolling off her more than the waves behind her.

“You have no finesse. No moves.” Drew continued. The mean words wouldn’t stop rolling off his tongue.

“Hey, who are you to tell me that!” The girl raged on like a Toros.

“If you must know, I’m Drew.” The said person did a cocky flip of his hair, smirking. “Pokémon Coordinator.”

Drew let his eyelids rise and came face to face with the most stunning pair of blue eyes he had ever seen.

………

MAY

Green Guy opened his eyes, and May felt caught off guard when she faced the most stunning pair of eyes she had ever seen.

They weren’t emerald, exactly — they were a lighter, softer shade of green that May would no doubt ponder about later at night. But right now Green Guy — Drew — stared back at May with a strange expression on his face. His pupils are dilated, and May couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as his eyes drank in her every feature.

May felt, as accurately as possible, like a Goldeen out of water.

“Really?” Ash's voice cut through the tension, and both coordinators snapped out of it. “That’s just like you May!” Ash exclaimed happily.

Drew cringed like the very thought of being related to May was painful and Max and Brock practically fell to the ground.

“Please, no comparison,” Drew flipped his hair and held out his hand in front of him, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of them. May looked ready to order Torchic to use Ember on the arrogant excuse-of-a-coordinator.

Drew continued insulting May as Beautifly flew down and elegantly perched herself on her head, tilting her head with curiosity. “You and your Pokémon here,” the green brat addressed May, “you have no style.” He turned his head away from them pridefully.

And … that’s it.

With an animalistic growl, May dove for the boy, literally ready to tackle him in her rage. Luckily, (for Drew sake, everybody but the two thought) Brock lunged forward in the nick of time and grabbed the girl by her forearms, successfully preventing May from her attempts of murder.

Drew didn’t flinch as May struggled to get out of her friend's grip.

“HOW DARE YOU! YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF ME ALL YOU WANT, BUT DON'T YOU DARE MAKE FUN OF MY POKÉMON — MMPH!?”

Drew pressed his hand against May’s trap to prevent his eardrums from being injured. He tossed her a careless smirk, amused and not at all intimidated by her temper.

May squirmed angrily in Brock’s death lock. This guy — this arrogant, cocky, grass-headed guy — had the audacity to touch her after insulting her and Beautifly? He must be joking.

“Whoa, just calm down little girl. I know you want a piece of this —” Drew gestured to his body with his other hand, “but I’m not interested in children.”

May got immense satisfaction when Drew actually took a step away from her as she went in for the kill again, dragging a shocked Brock along with her. Pikachu quickly shot off his partner's shoulder to grab onto the leg May was prepared to kick with. Beautifully quickly dropped back down on the brunette’s head to calm her down.

May took a deep breath, shutting her eyes for a second. She focused on the comforting weight of Beautifly weighing down on her neck before releasing her breath.

“Who are you calling little? We’re the same age," May retorted.

Drew simply ignored her comment and flipped his hair, purposefully ticking her off further.

Max jumped into the conversation, sensing his sister was about to blow again. “May, don’t listen to him," he said, sweating at the way May was eyeing Drew like a Mightyena would pounce on its prey.

“Yeah, why don’t you show us all your great Pokémon,” Ash butted in.

Drew rolled his eyes and answered snootily, “Why, what good would that do?”

Drew flipped his majestic (please note the sarcasm) green hair and locked eyes with May again. “I think,” he continued slowly, “that you all should be on your way.” Drew didn’t take his eyes off the blue-eyed girl as he jabbed his thumb behind him to the five-star hotel none of them had noticed before. “This is a private beach reserved for people like me staying at that hotel.” Drew tilted his head to the side, slightly challenging May — challenging them all — to argue.

May dragged her eyes from the fancy hotel to the boy standing a few feet ahead from her.

She hated him.

Rivalry burned in the pit of her stomach and she made sure she channeled all that heat into the glare she was giving him.

“Let’s go,” Ash broke the silence, grabbing May's wrist and tugging.

“Pika,” Pikachu, who was still at May’s feet, agreed and jumped on Ash's shoulder as the latter turned away and walked in the opposite direction.

“Yeah,” Brock said, unlocking May from his death grip and following Ash. Max followed the others, not before glancing nervously between the two coordinators who were in the middle of a face-off.

“Would you stop glaring at me like that? You look like a Gible,” Drew broke the silence as soon as the boys left.

“No,” May snapped back, anger evident in her tone. Beautify flew off her head and hovered above her.

Drew ran a hand through his hair and let it rest for a moment on her. Then he flipped his hair out and walked right up to her, not stopping until he was inches away from her. “I’ll see you at the contest, May,” he said teasingly, daring her to push him away.

May felt her hands ball up on instinct and her face burned with anger and embarrassment. The girl willed her feet to move, but to no avail.

That’s right,” May heard herself say. “You’ll see me win.”

Drew’s smirk grew wider and he leaned closer. Sapphire and emerald eyes burnt into each other. Both coordinators just stood there, staring at each other, standing in each other’s personal bubbles until May finally had the strength to pull away. Both watched each other like a hawk as May backed away from Drew scowling.

“Come on Beautifly, let’s go,” May finally said.

“Beautifly,” her Pokémon agreed.

Still, the trainers would not move, nor remove eye contact.

Finally, Drew turned on his heel and left, heading back to the hotel he had previously pointed out earlier. May and Beautifly stood and stared at Drew’s retreating form and May was left to ponder what had just transpired, blinking.

“What in Arceus’s name just happened?” May thought bewilderedly. Beautifly startled her out of it by landing on her head once more and May smiled at her Pokémon.

“I’m going to pound that arrogant piece of green hair into the battlefield when I win that ribbon,” May murmured to herself.

The young girl turned around and broke into a sprint, shouting, “Hey Ash! Let's have a Pokémon battle!”

OHH I GOT A GOOD ANGST ONE INSPIRED BY ALL THE KAMADO SLANDER!

What if during their missions the hero befriends this pack of hitsuian zoarks and zoras?

They have helped this pack many times during their missions and the pack has grown to care for their dear human friend.

But when you get banished hell has frozen over and what if you were seriously hurted during the banishment?

On top of the mountain everyone even thoughs who helped you will see an illusion of you dying body as the leader of the pack inches towards kamado scarring him for his actions!

Enjoy my fuckery!

Reader is gender neutral, the only she is the alpha Zoroark. Mentions of blood but nothing descriptive.

-

-

You don’t know what you did to deserve being banished, you only did what you were told.

No matter who stood up for you, they were instantly silenced to threatened with war, and that wasn’t something you wanted for any of those you still care for.

You didn’t know what else to do.

You weren’t given the chance to pack your things, or anything at all really, just whatever you had on you at the time.

The clans nor their leaders could help you.

So you wondered around, trying to find something, anything that could help you prove you innocence.

That drive lead you to the Alabaster Icelands.

Snowpoint temple seemed old enough to carry some secrets, maybe you could find something there?

While you set up your own little campsite in a cave you hear something, a curious sounding whine before it morphs into a happy yip.

Looking behind you, you see a little zoura you helped a while ago, if the cut out of their ear was anything to go by.

“Hey little buddy.”

You coo softly, but the small Pokémon senses something wrong, letting out a small whine, more zouras show up.

Ah, it’s the entire pack you’ve helped over the months.

You remember healing them when you found them and handing them back to a very angry and cautious alpha.

Speaking of, a louder, deeper grumble greets you.

The other zouras and Zoroarks of the pack form a soft circle around you, just as the alpha Zoroark makes her appearance.

“Hello to you too mama.”

The family looks at you, all letting out various sad or comforting sounds. The larger Zoroark curls around you, in an effort to keep you warm.

“Thank you.”

It’s funny being held like this. Your thoughts begin to tumble and before you know you, you’re sobbing into the fluffy mane of the Zoroark around you.

You cried your heart out to the whining pack, venting about all that has happened.

Your banishment.

You betrayal.

Your heartache.

They left it all.

The alpha Zoroark rubbed her cheek against your, wrapping herself up in your scarf before moving away. She stood up, speaking to her children before most of the zoroarks left, not without giving you a nuzzle.

One Zoroark was left to keep watch over you and the zouras.

You cried a little more, hugging and cuddling with your new family before falling asleep, surrounded by their fluffy warmth.

You sleep safe and protected, completely unaware of what is yet to come.

The pack of zoroarks quickly move in towards the village.

The have arrived by the next night.

The alpha looks down at the scarf you have yet to notice she took.

They hurt her pup.

They left her pup abandoned in the wilderness to suffer the same fate as her.

They will not be forgiven.

The meeting between the commander and clan leaders was dragging on.

It was late but no progress was being made.

Kamado sighs at Irida and Adaman’s stubbornness, the two were still upset about his ruling over you.

“It’s been almost a week! No one as heard from them, let alone see them!” Adaman’s patience is wearing thin.

“What if something happened to them? These lands aren’t exactly kind.”

Irida was worried, she heard from Lian that the day of you banishment you asked for her, but due to Kamado’s orders he couldn’t help and you left.

You are her dear friend, she hopes you’re safe.

Adaman’s anger is only to mask his fear, Irida is right, these lands aren’t kind, and with you by yourself, with no guards or professor on the look out for you, who knows what could happen.

The door to the side suddenly flings open.

A powerful burst of malicious pressure forcing it open.

Red claws grip the door frame, the Zoroark lowers herself to enter the office.

Before any made a move the gasp.

That’s your scarf, that’s your galaxy uniform scarf that you never took off.

Slowly the Zoroark morphs into you, a blood stained you.

“…..hero?” Irida’s voice breaks, her hands over he mouth with tears stinging her eyes.

Adaman and Kamado stand shocked and horrified at the realization.

It’s you.

“Why did you do this to me?” It’s your voice, it sounds so uncanny.

Your eyes however stay that stark yellow, glaring down the commander.

“I-I didn’t!- I-“

“I will give you a fate like mine.”

The threes face’s paled, neither clan leader’s teams were strong enough to take on such a strong, angry foe.

A part of them didn’t want to. It was you after all, you had every right to be angry.

They stare at the Zoroark’s illusion. It had to be you, the creature had your scarf after all.

You didn’t seem to have any open injuries, but the blood showed just where you were hit.

Adaman felt like puking at the thought of your pain.

With all the commotion, Cyllene and Laventon burst in.

Laventon’s loud cry startled the Zoroark, bringing her attention toward the other door.

Was that your pack mate you spoke fondly of?

“Everyone get back! Abra!”

Ah these the strict one you spoke of as well.

She lunges, breaking her illusion and going for Kamado’s throat.

But Abra teleports him out of the room just in time.

With a loud snark and howl, the village echoes in several howls.

“If you hadn’t banished them this wouldn’t be happening!”

“How was I suppose to know they’d be killed and turned into THAT!?”

“Are you so closed off you don’t see the world you live in anymore!?”

Kamado argues with Irida and Adman, he didn’t think this would happen.

“Enough! We need to take ever safety precaution we have. Zoroarks are dangerous, we won’t know who’s one until they slip up.”

Cyllene quickly takes over the situation.

“Lock down the village and get everyone inside this building state!”

“Yes ma’am!” Galaxy guards run out to round everyone up, alarms are being signaled and the lock down commences.

Hours into the lock down, well into the next morning, everything seems fine.

Kamado spent most of it dealing with the villagers, ignoring the harsh glares being sent his way by the other leaders, Cyllene, and Laventon.

His mind only replaying what happened yesterday.

You couldn’t be dead…could you? Though why else would a pack of zoroarks come to his village? They always stay in the Icelands.

The realization that he had a hand in your demise, seeing a ghostly you, so angry at him.

It made his heart sink.

The commander does his best to make sure that side door stays locked up tight. He always checks to make sure it stays that way, in fear it’ll open and you’ll be standing there, ready to finish the job.

-

With food secured and their mother’s actions done, the pack heads back to their den.

The alpha lets out a soft coo at the sight of you playing with the other pups.

“Oh! Welcome back.”

You holy in surprise when each Zoroark drops human food by you.

“Is that what y’all left for?”

You look at them confused as she nudges you towards it.

“Well, thank you!” You gave some of them some pets before eating some of the food.

Looking over to the mother of the pack you chuckle.

“I was wondering where my scarf went, though you can keep it, it matches you!”

Your chuckle turns into a laugh as she licks your face, fully trying to give you a bath.

Maybe staying here won’t be so bad.

I wish to read the continuation to this.. If she ever complete her Pokédex and get back home with Ingo... 😭😭😭

Comfort Him

Akari often brings things back from space-time distortions to show to Ingo, in hopes that it will help him regain any of his lost memories. She just didn’t consider it might bring back a memory that’s so distressing.

I wrote this based off of the prompt for the title ‘To Comfort a Parent’ that was given to me by @mismefancy for my title ask game! I also incorporated another request for more Snacktime AU. This has some sadder content than I usually write, but it still has a good ending.

OR read here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“I found some new things today, maybe one of these will be different?”

The sound of crinkling reached Ingo’s ears, who was in the middle of scrubbing the last soup bowl clean in the nearby river. He glanced back at Akari to see exactly what he was expecting - from where she sat on a felled log, she was pulling a variety of things out of her satchel - he immediately recognized a few snack bags. Plastic packaging that only came from the space-time distortions.

“Miss Akari, I’m beginning to suspect you purposely hide those until after meals are finished.” Ingo brought the clean bowls back to the snuffed-out cooking fire he had set up, eyeing the various things for no longer than a moment. It seemed she could never stop eating, but that was to be expected from an active teenager’s metabolism… something he did not share.

But, she was doing it for him. He was well aware of that; she often brought him things she would find in the space-time distortions - things that were entirely foreign to the people of Hisui, but were usually very familiar to Akari, and oftentimes faintly so for Ingo. Things that had come from their own time.

Ingo’s recollection of his previous station had considerably improved since his initial interactions with Akari, and they only grew with time. However, such growth was beginning to plateau, and when new memories were knocked loose, they were often small, and insignificant - usually general things, nothing personal for him.

Had he recovered just about everything he could? Akari didn’t think so, and had resorted to more trips to space-time distortions, for more chances to find something that might be their big break - that might be Ingo’s lucky chance to remember something significant.

Nothing had come close to providing that yet - sometimes a few pages ripped out of a magazine would help him dimly recall a passing general event, or an empty pokeball of modern-day design would send faint feelings of familiarity through his hands, but that was it.

It was like picking up shattered glass in the dark - there were many more tiny pieces scattered about than large ones, and reaching out blindly would more likely result in feeling the smaller shards first.

It was… a tedious process. Especially lately, where it seemed things were slowing down considerably.

However, Akari was persistent, incessantly so. She had kept trying, kept finding new things to show him. And Ingo… Ingo appreciated it.

“It’s not a lot, and it’s just items this time!” Akari pulled out a few other items from the bag. “Mostly.”

“Let’s see the items first, then,” Ingo moved to drop down beside her on the log, the dry bark creaking to accommodate him. Let dinner settle a little, first.

“Alright, here’s something I found skewered on the back spikes of a rhydon,” Akari explained, pulling something soft out of the stash. “Hopefully some kid’s not missing it too much!”

Ingo blinked at the item. It was clearly a plush toy of a Pokémon, but he didn’t immediately recognize it as one from Hisui… it didn’t help that there was a large puncture in its face, with stuffing poking out of it.

“Do you recognize this Pokémon?” Akari handed the ruined toy to Ingo, and he held it in his lap, handling it carefully as he took his time looking it over.

It was quadruped, light grey and black. Big head, tiny legs. Small, natural holes decorated the armor on its face and back, as opposed to the unnatural puncture that had destroyed one of the plush’s two big blue eyes.

That one was more like the holes that littered Ingo’s mind.

(Aron). A Pokémon that was brought to the (Battle)(Subway) for fights (on)(the)(lines), and would (nibble) on the (Subway’s)(rails) if they were of the wild variety.

…

A Pokémon that was brought for fights, were they of the wild variety.

…That didn’t seem entirely right.

“I believe the memory of this Pokémon can’t quite reach the station, yet,” Ingo rubbed at the back of his scalp with a hand, where a small aching was beginning to bother him. “But it’s halfway there.”

“It’s an aron,” Akari tried to help the memory the other half of the way. “Likes to eat metal? Evolves into lairon, then aggron?”

Ingo’s frown only deepened at the remark; the characteristic and names were faint sparks in his mind, but nothing more - he could not get a visual image of the evolutions, or even remember the typing for them. It was the exact same feeling he got when he glanced at one of the many voltorb in the highlands… or even his own sneasel.

He handed the damaged toy back over to Akari. “Ah, still not quite there, I’m afraid.”

“No, it’s ok,” A consolatory phrase. One that Ingo had grown accustomed to hearing from her every time she showed him something, anymore. Akari took the plush, and set it back in the pile, before pulling out the next item, and holding it up to him. “What about this? I found this one hanging off a cliffside!”

It was a small, plain shirt; tattered and dirty, there was a print of what almost appeared to be a braviary on it - it was hard to tell with all of the rips littered across the black fabric, though.

Nothing came to mind with this article of clothing at all, aside from the fact that he had recognized shirt designs like this were common where he came from - a realization that was a couple months old at this point, but one that had been special to Akari. It only solidified the idea that they were from a similar, if not the same, time period - she had arrived to Hisui in a plain printed shirt as well, after all.

However, nothing new sprung up at the clothing. Not even the tell-tale aching in the back of his skull, flaring whenever he managed to touch a locked-up memory that was infected with holes.

And why would it?

Ingo suspected Akari knew that more than likely, the mundane article of clothing wouldn’t be familiar to him at all. But he knew she had since resorted to bringing him absolutely anything he hadn’t seen yet.

They had already gone through a lot - Akari had told him about Pokemon gyms, about contests, and competitions. About Pokemon native to her home that she couldn’t find here, as well as others from different regions. About Pokemon centers and Pokemarts, and TMs and HMs. Everything she could think of. And it did bring a considerable amount of information back.

Of the world he had left behind, at least.

But what of his friends? His family? His personal life? How could Akari help lead him back to that prior track, when she had never been a part of it?

Questions never worked, asking about his life or loved ones, no matter how specific they got.

He needed connections.

So what else could she do, besides hope a ruined toy would unlock a memory of a potential close companion of the same form? Or that a ripped shirt would remind him of a friend or family member that had possibly happened to wear the same article of clothing?

It was all she could do, and Ingo knew it just as well as she did. At this point, she could only show him random relics left behind by the distortions.

Hoping it would somehow click.

“Anything?” Akari’s arms began to lower, looking over the top of the shirt at Ingo with cautious hope in her eyes.

“Ah, nothing of significance, I am afraid.” Ingo locked his fingers together, regret in his own gaze; he hated to disappoint her.

“Hmm…” Akari turned to fold and stuff the shirt back into her satchel. “...It’s ok.”

The same consolatory remark again. It was hidden deep, hidden well, but Ingo noticed it sounded… not exactly sadder, but more… disheartened.

She was not obligated to subject herself to such disappointment.

“Miss Akari,” From under the brim of his hat, Ingo’s eyes watched Akari’s hands, putting the shirt away. She paused to glance at him. “My apologies if this is, well, a discouraging process. I am doubly appreciative for your efforts to assist me, but I am aware the tracks are unfortunately slow… and I apologize for that. If you would rather take a break from this, I would understand.”

“What? No, no!” The shirt was forgotten entirely as hands went up, emphasizing. “It’s not! …Something I want to take a break from, I mean! I don’t want to!”

Ingo must have shown a little of his surprise on his face at her enthusiasm, because Akari noticed it.

“I just… I really want to help you get your memories back.” The teenager relaxed a little. She confined her hands to her lap, so they would not fidget with her scarf as she focused on her words. “I think about my mom a lot, and my friends, and my home. I mean, yeah, it's hard sometimes to think about, but I’m really glad I have them. I want you to have that too.”

She knew Ingo wanted it very much; she could see it in his features whenever he listened to her talk about her memories. Not jealousy or envy, but a specific type of sadness. He was able to hide it well, but his eyes would always give him away.

“It doesn’t bother me, even if it takes a while.” She kept going. “It’s not your fault either, but… I don’t look at it like that anyways. I just want to help, any way I can. Even if it takes time.”

The things Ingo had done for her during her time in Hisui went through her mind. How he had led her, accompanied her through the mountains to his noble. How he encouraged her, and appreciated her company. How he taught her how to do certain things, and did his best to guide her when she felt confused. How he made her feel less lonely in a way her other friends couldn’t here in Hisui, the only other person in this world that had come from a previous one before, just like her.

But these things didn’t leave her mouth.

“You’ve done a lot for me.” She simply summed up, instead. “I’d be happy to do something back for you.”

She turned away, back to her pile before Ingo could possibly try and assure her that really, it was alright (but in doing so, she missed the look of appreciation that found its way into his eyes). The sound of shifting fabric was replaced with the crinkling he had first heard earlier.

“Ok, snacktime. Here, try this one first.” Akari held out a small bag to Ingo, wanting him to take it. “You haven’t had these before, right? It’s popcorn, I think.”

The bag was a bright blue, featuring a pair of Pokémon he couldn’t quite recall - small brown bodies, with large fluffy heads. One had a pair of curled green horns, the other blue.

Popping the bag open, Ingo could see the popcorn inside; white and yellow puffs that resembled the Pokémon’s fluffy cotton, and covered in an orange dust.

“You’re correct, as you oftentimes are with these,” Ingo offered the opened bag to Akari as he always did, and she grabbed a messy handful of the puffs to munch on. Ingo took a handful himself, popping them into his mouth one at a time as opposed to Akari, who shoved it all in at once.

Hmm…

Definitely stale.

Just like how they always were in the (vending)(machine) by the (Battle)(Subway). Stale. (Emmet) liked them, but he didn’t know anyone else who did.

…

Just like how they always were. Stale. Someone liked them, but he didn’t know anyone else who did.

Well, that was a lot of nothing, but he shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how he apparently never really touched the stuff to begin with.

“I think this bag was a little old,” Akari commented with a full mouth, rubbing some of the cheese dust from off her face.

“I believe they’re just like that,” Ingo finished off the popcorn, before neatly flattening the empty bag and handing it back to Akari - he would have simply crumpled it, but he knew she liked to keep and collect some of the packaging to later show to Rei. “But unfortunately, that is the only memory that’s returned to the station; my apologies.”

Once again, Ingo could sense the modicum of disappointment that she couldn’t quite hide with the rest. She took the bag back and folded it neatly, slipping it into her satchel. “No! It’s ok, Ingo, really.”

The warden couldn’t help but feel bad again. Ingo was sort of hoping that was the last thing she had, so that he wouldn’t have to disappoint her for a fourth time tonight. But apparently, she wasn’t done.

“Alright, last thing, I promise,” Akari picked up a small, stocky jar. “I think it’s a drink. Maybe a protein shake, or something-“

She paused as she got a better look at the item in her hands. It was much easier to identify things when she wasn’t swiping things from off the ground, going thirty-something miles an hour from atop Lord Wyrdeer’s back.

“Wait no, nevermind, it’s not a drink. Well, for people, at least. It’s um, a jar of carbos,” slightly surprised, Akari took note of the matching blue cap and triangle symbol on the front - it had been hard to notice with all the dirt that covered it. “Vitamin mix for Pokemon. There are other types too, like Zinc, and Protein… I don’t think I’ve found any of them in a distortion yet, though. I know it’s a long shot, but maybe… see if it reminds you of anything?”

She held the jar out to Ingo. Another offer for him to try again. To try one more time. For her.

A deep breath. Scared to disappoint her again. Ingo reached out, taking the jar in his fingers. “Alright.”

The warden brushed some of the dirt off as he inspected the item more thoroughly. The plastic container was covered in little scratch marks, probably banged up from when it fell through the distortion. The blue triangle on the container stared back at him, a label that didn’t hold much meaning or significance to him. It stirred weak familiarity as a jar of vitamins though, riding off the words of explanation Akari had given.

Out of habit, Ingo turned the carbos over in his hands, his eyes following the label strip as he turned the jar, until-

There was a sticker on the back of the container, stamped over the labeling. Ingo squinted at it, reading over the words - The writing was not Hisuian, just like everything else Akari would fish from the distortions. It was thankfully Galarian, which he could read, but it still took a moment. The scuffed state of the sticker didn’t help either, but Ingo could eventually make out:

CARBOS - 1BP

THANK YOU FOR RIDING THE BATTLE SUBWAY. ENJOY YOUR PRIZE. WE HOPE TO SEE YOU RIDING THE LINES AGAIN SOON. FOLLOW THE RULES AND DRIVE SAFELY!

-INGO AND EMMET

Ingo blinked.

Emmet had come up with that message himself, believing the words of support on the prizes would be appreciated by the trainers. Emmet had run a few variations of the message by him when they were still adjusting to their top positions in the place.

This was a BP exchange item from the Battle Subway. It cost exactly 1BP, and would raise a pokemon’s speed. Valuable, but essential to trainers who wanted to help their Pokemon reach their full potential. Which is why Emmet wanted to lower its cost from 10BP to 1BP.

Emmet always told him he’d start putting this stuff in his coffee, to make him finally start moving faster in the mornings. And he actually did it, once.

There were no holes in these thoughts.

These disconnected, jumbled recollections simultaneously shot like an arrow through Ingo’s brain, a quick, sharp stab before all the pain - all the realization - caught up with it, and bloomed out. Ingo could barely process the memories flooding back.

Emmet. That’s who he was - that’s who the man in white was. Emmet. His brother, who he ran the Battle Subway with.

Emmet’s actual appearance was still just as murky, as were any experiences with him outside of the limited information that was attached to this jar of carbos. But Ingo had something.

His brother was encouraging, to think of putting messages like this onto prizes for trainers, and trusting to come to him for approval on it. His brother was considerate for making prizes like carbos more affordable for trainers, and he was, well… apparently a bit mischievous for putting the nasty stuff in his morning coffee.

He was a good brother though. A brother that he loved dearly, and a brother that loved him back just as much. Ingo knew it. Why else would such a surge of emotions be connected to these sparse memories? His mind could not explain his feelings with memories, but his heart could remember them all the same.

It reassured him, even if he didn’t understand it.

A confused sound left Ingo’s throat, a deep heave in his chest as he tried to keep his head above the rising waters. He looked up to Akari, who was watching him intently, in hopes that she would extend a branch and help him stay afloat.

She blinked at wide grey eyes. “Did you-?”

“My brother-” His fingers were loose around the plastic container, the carbos practically forgotten in his hands. “I have a brother. His… name is Emmet. He works in the Battle Subway, as did I.”

He held up the jar in his hands, now remembered, and turned it around for her to see the sticker - the confusion on her face had been immediate, wondering how he got all of that from a jar of carbos.

“This is a prize item that could be obtained from the Battle Subway, something that could be exchanged for BP. I can’t quite recall what BP stands for, but it was treated as currency for our system…”

As Ingo went on, Akari studied the scuffed sticker on the jar, still in his hands. When her eyes drifted over Ingo and Emmet’s names, her expression lit up, eyes bright as she smiled wide.

“Oh, Ingo! this is great!” Akari jumped up, hardly able to sit still with the excitement buzzing in her chest, making big gestures with her hands. “This is- this is a big thing! You remembered something! You have a brother! And you remember him! And your job, too!”

Akari’s infectious enthusiasm spread to Ingo, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards into a smile as she continued to talk. He did remember. He took another glance down at the worn sticker on the carbos, as if reading Emmet’s name again would bring back more memories.

“You work at the Battle Subway!” Akari kept going, talking a mile a minute. “Which means you’ve got to be from Unova! When I was really young, my mom and I would go there for contests she was in! We went on Gear Station’s subway lines too! I could have already met you and not even known it! Ingo, wouldn’t that be great? I mean, just-!”

Clearly, the prospect of not only living in the exact same timeframe, but also possibly having already met before, was exciting Akari beyond belief.

But as she went on, her words only turned to static in Ingo’s ears.

It was entirely unintentional - he would never purposely tune her out like that. But it was hard not to do it when the third line on the sticker had snagged his attention in its entirety, working its way through his mind as another set of gears started turning in his head.

FOLLOW THE RULES AND DRIVE SAFELY!

Ingo ran his thumb over the rough texture of the scuffed sticker, over the words.

A familiar phrase to him. That was what he always said. He always said that when initiating a battle at the training grounds. Because it always felt right to say so.

But, Emmet was the one who had written the message on this sticker.

These were Emmet’s words.

It was a deep feeling in his gut. They were not his own. They were his brother’s. His dear brother’s. Those were Emmet’s words that had stuck with him, and remained in his heart.

Had he always been saying Emmet’s phrases? No wonder they always filled him with such will. Such determination. They were the words of his brother. His encouraging, trusting, compassionate, mischievous brother.

Emmet’s words had left him with a will to keep going when he had been separated, even if he didn’t realize it until now. But what had he left Emmet with?

Did he leave him with anything at all? Did Emmet know where he was? That he was still alive?

Did he leave Emmet all alone, for all this time?

Ingo could not recall any of the answers, but a deep, nauseating bubble of grief filled his chest at the questions before it could go any deeper.

His heart could remember what his mind could not. He did not understand the intensity. And this time, it terrified him.

Grief only hurt like this when something you dearly cared about was wronged.

Something had happened before he had departed from his previous station, to this one in Hisui. Something terrible, and he knew it involved Emmet.

What if he couldn’t ever get back to him, and fix it? What if he was stuck here in Hisui permanently?

The new, upsetting wave of emotions in his heart welled up out of his chest, unable to be contained, forced down deep the way tried so hard to maintain sometimes. They filled his eyes, blurring his vision, until they began to stream down his face.

“...My mom said that on the first trip, when I was really little, I got lost at the station,” Akari continued on, oblivious. “And that staff helped her find me! What if you had talked to my mom? Or your brother did? Or even-”

Any further words died in Akari’s throat at the sound of a sniff, and her excitement followed her words as she turned to see Ingo. One hand still held on to the carbos jar, but he was rubbing his eyes with the other, catching tears with the heel of his palm.

…Was he crying?

“Ingo?” A foreign, novel anxiety sprang up in Akari’s chest, cold and uncomfortable.

Ingo does not cry.

“Are… you ok?”

A glance up from under the brim of his tattered hat, eyes heavy with tears.

“I am alright, Miss Akari,” Ingo sniffed, “It’s just that…Emmet, I don’t- I believe something happened, before… and I am afraid that I’ll be unable to-“

The confusing emotions kept pushing. The tears kept falling. Ingo shut his eyes tight, which only squeezed out a few more fresh ones. A deep breath around the swell in his throat.

He did not want to burden Akari with this. He was the adult, and she was a child, she shouldn’t have to-

“…Please excuse me,” Ingo sniffed again, wiping at the tears with his sleeve as he looked away. They wouldn’t stop coming. “I- I don’t wish to… I can’t seem to-“

It was all he could get out before his voice cracked. He stopped hopelessly attempting to form a sentence, and relented to simply choking back a sob. It was quiet, in a way. He suppressed himself so as not to openly weep, but each stutter of breath was still agonizing. Leaning forward to hide his eyes under the brim of his cap, the tears came down.

Akari was struck with a cold shock, unsure what to do. She had never seen Ingo like this. He had never cried, regardless of whether it was simply misty eyes, or relentless tears being shed. And the sound of him sobbing was so foreign to her; it felt so wrong. So sad.

At least, she had never seen him do such things.

Her heart clenched at the possibility that perhaps it was different when it came to times of solitary, when he was alone and no one was watching.

But what if it wasn’t like that either? He could have just as easily been bottling these feelings up inside, consciously or subconsciously, letting things grow tighter and tighter in a fragile heart, until the pressure shattered it.

Both thoughts made Akari all the more appreciative that they were out in the wilderness, away from any prying eyes and attentive ears of the Jubilife villagers. She was sure Ingo felt doubly grateful. Because either way, it was obvious he needed to get it out.

Ingo restrained a few more sobs before he slumped forward into his hands, elbows propped weakly against his knees. Perhaps it was out of grief weighing heavy on his shoulders, or it was simply to hide his face, and the tears that rolled down it. Either way, Akari’s heart ached, squeezing so hard in her chest that she almost felt nauseous.

She had never seen him like this.

Akari moved to sit back down on the log next to Ingo. She was still for a moment as his shoulders jolted with each stifled choke, before hesitantly reaching around his middle as best she could in a hug.

She said nothing as she leaned against him, embracing him - what could she possibly say? Ingo continued to sob. She knew he probably couldn’t stop now even if he wanted to - containing such strong and built-up emotions after letting them out was comparable to fitting a steelix into a pickling jar. But a heavy arm moved, shuddering, and he turned his torso to better accommodate her efforts, and embrace her back.

Akari readily took the opportunity, and buried herself into his warm front, securing her arms around his back. She felt his arms settle around her in turn, holding onto the comfort she was offering. The way his chest stuttered, bouts of sporadic breathing interrupting an otherwise-smooth cycle, only made Akari settle further against him, practically in an effort to ease it.

He was hurting.

And he probably had been for a long time, even if he didn’t realize it.

Akari had always assumed Ingo’s amnesia was a curse. All it had ever seemed to do was cause strife - Ingo would doubt himself on many things due to it. And he never spoke about it out loud, but Akari could tell he would occasionally question subjects pertaining to himself and his previous life that she didn’t want him to even entertain.

What was he like before Hisui - as a person? Were people as wary to trust him in his own time as they are here? Did they have reasons not to trust him? Was his morality previously… tarnished? Did he do something wrong - something wrong enough to land him here in Hisui?

It was a very slippery slope of bad thoughts that Akari always wanted him to dismiss. She hated the thought of them, but how could one not at least wonder about it from time to time, if they had no memories of the person they were before?

But now, Akari believed it had been a blessing. He couldn’t miss the things he terribly loved if he didn’t remember them. He couldn’t worry over loved ones he didn’t remember, or ache for home if he couldn’t recall what home felt like. He couldn’t torment himself over the events leading up to his demise, or think of what he could have done differently, if he didn’t recall what had happened before. He couldn’t lament his previous life progressing without him if he didn’t know how good he really had it. He couldn’t question if there was a plan for him like there were plans for Akari, if he didn’t realize their methods of arrival were vastly different.

He could not beg for a ticket back home if he didn’t know enough about what home actually was, and what unfinished business he left behind, to consider it terrifying that the trip might possibly be a one-way deal.

His amnesia had been protecting him from some terribly distressing feelings, and she had dug them back up.

All with a jar of carbos.

Akari felt her throat tighten uncomfortably as blurry stinging welled up in her eyes. Ingo’s tunic caught a tear as it fell; an infectious action in turn from a cold wetness spreading on her shoulder, his own continued tears.

She had never seen him like this.

“I’m so sorry,” Akari’s voice was muffled against his tunic. She continued to feel the sporadic heaves of Ingo’s lungs, stuttering around his sobs; he said nothing in his current state, as she didn’t think he even could. But the shakey, reassuring squeeze he gave her told her that he appreciated the gesture.

He had always been there to comfort and ease her. To tell her that things were ok, and that he would fix whatever was wrong to the best of his abilities. Several times, she had admittedly cried to him about her homesickness, and her mother, and her friends. And he always listened. Always reassured her. Always indulged in her good memories, and spoke well of her friends and family that he had never even met.

It felt almost jarring to be in such a position now, the other way around where she was the one comforting him over such things. She sometimes forgot that he was really only around twice her age, three times at the most. That he was not only just as lost in this world as she was, but even deeper in the thickets than her… and yet he was always trying to push her forward, closer to the clearing and out of the woods.

He was such a sturdy, supportive foundation in this unstable reality for her, that she oftentimes (and shamefully) forgot he was just as scared of the uncertain future, and his place within it, as she was… if not more.

A distressing recollection might have been the catalyst for the tears, but she knew more was pouring out than just that. Months of built up stress, and confusion, and worrying-

He needed someone to tell him it would be alright too.

He missed home, just like her.

She hugged him tighter, squeezing.

“You’ll get back home. To Emmet. And everyone else who cares about you. I’ll fulfill my purpose here, I’ll earn my way back, and, I-I‘ll take you with me.” Akari spoke against his chest. The wetness continued to spread over her shoulder. “I won’t leave you here. No matter what. You… you’re going to see them all again.”

The tears kept coming from above her. Akari’s unspoken words of appreciation from earlier welled up in her heart - why did she never say them to him?

“You’ve helped me so much,” she let the words flow. “You spend time with me, and you care about me, and listen to me, and… I miss my mom a lot, but I don’t feel so alone here when I’m with you. It would be… very different without you here. And I… I know Emmet is feeling that. I know he wants you back. I’m taking you back with me, and you’re going to see him again, and whatever happened will be fixed.”

Ingo had needed to hear that. A deep breath shuddered as he slumped forward. Another gentle squeeze in his arms as he continued to quietly cry. Broken heaves of breath through restrained sobs.

Akari remained leaned against him, head resting close to his aching heart.

She would not leave him in this place.

They sat like that for a while, the cold darkness of the wilderness surrounding them. Ingo continued to cry, and Akari let him.

She had never seen him like this, because he had always tried his hardest not to let anyone, especially her, see him like this. He did not want to burden her with his stressors. But she did not see it as a burden at all.

She was going to complete her purpose. She was going to earn her way back home. She was going to take Ingo with her.

She would not leave him in this place.

Things would be ok.

I like the build up of this fanfic! 😆😆😆

Didn't expect the ending turned south, I do hope for continuation of this fic.. 🥺🥺🥺

You Know What They Say About Assumptions

"You know what this means," Emmet gave her a shit-eating grin. "The return of Emmie-" he struck a dorky pose.

So Elesa struck one, much more elegant, pose in kind, "And Ellie!"

"Team Gossip back in action," Emmet twirled around to turn on the big-screen monitor in the room, a Tynamo logo flickering to life. "Our newest operation: spying on a love-struck Subway Boss!"

Or; when Elesa's boyfriend, Ingo, starts acting strange her and Emmet come to the only conclusion possible; he must obviously be planning a proposal!

First fic of the year and predictably it's a crack ship XD The romance is really light in this one, so if you're not big on the ship you still might find it an enjoyable read (maybe)! I do not know what the name of this ship is called beyond Elesa/Ingo. Enjoy!

Word Length: 4369 Relevant Tags: Comedy, crack treated seriously, established relationship, marriage proposals, time travel, amnesiac Ingo

Do not tag as ship beyond the one actually listed. Doing so will incur an automatic and swift block.

Read it on AO3! Or below the cut! Enjoy!

Elesa knocked on the door to the twins' office, waiting to hear an allowance for her to come inside before opening it and going, "Hey Emmet?"

"I am Emmet, do you need something?" the Subway Boss looked up at her from where he was typing on his computer, a relaxed smile on his face but a questioning lilt to his voice. He was likely curious as to why Elesa was visiting him during lunch when she and his brother were using up their vacation time to spend the rest of the year together.

"Yeah," she crossed the room in a few easy steps before settling down in the office chair across from him. "Has Ingo seemed a bit... odd to you these last few days?"

"Not that I've noticed," he shrugged his shoulder, saving the document he was working on before he swiveled his chair in her direction, "Wouldn't you know more than me considering you live with him?" 

"I suppose," Elesa nervously nibbled on her bottom lip, teeth lightly scraping against it so that she wouldn't break the skin, "It's just that I was wondering if he said anything to you."

"Hm, not since he told me he was taking the following week off." Emmet checked his Xtrans just to confirm he was giving accurate information. "Your questions have me worried. Did something happen to make him act strangely?"

"You remember that thunderstorm last Friday?" Elesa asked him.

She watched as Emmet looked up in consideration before nodding. "Yup! I had to smooth down Galvantula's fur and rock Eelektross to calm him down. It made them verrry antsy. Too much energy to stay cooped up in the apartment. Why?"

"Well, after getting Cotton and Candy to settle down," she huffed at remembering the mischief her twin Emolgas got into by knocking down things from their shelves as they flitted about, "We went to sleep-"

"Gross."

"-and you know how long it takes for me to do that compared to your brother," she rolled her eyes at his interjection. "I was reading a novel- with that cute book light you gifted me during the solstice, thank you for that again."

"Of course," he preened. "Anything with Joltiks on it is a winner. The best of gifts from yours truly."

Elesa nodded in agreement because, well, it was the undeniable truth. Joltiks did make anything an instant hit. Even book lights. "As I was saying, I was reading a novel while he snored." She thought it was cute how he sounded like a train while he slept. That's how she perceived it at least, Emmet claimed it was like the horn on a boat- annoying and obtrusive- especially since Ingo slept like a log and wasn't easily woken up. "When a particularly loud crack of thunder woke him up and he tumbled off the bed. I was really concerned that he had hurt himself! It sounded like a rough landing."

"Did he tell you he was hurt?" Emmet asked.

"No, but then again he didn't say much of anything," she frowned, recalling the look he had given her as she crawled across the bed to look over the side. The expression of wide-eyed confusion he had given her and when he had looked down at himself, staring at his hands and clothes in bafflement. "He just got up and ran to the bathroom. When he returned he was frazzled and tense when he slipped back into bed."

"Hmm," Emmet used his thumb to rub at his curled pointer finger in thought, his fist closed. "That is bizarre. Ingo has never been afraid of thunderstorms before. How else has he been acting odd?"

"If it was spring I'd say he was getting ready to clean sweep the apartment with how he's been picking up and looking at everything," Elesa leaned back into her chair, breathing out of her nose as she crossed her arms. "Plus he's been so quiet this whole time, speaking at a softer volume." When he chose to speak at all that was.

"Ingo? My twin Ingo? That Ingo? Quiet?" Emmet's jaw dropped as he stared at her in disbelief.

"Yes!" Elesa could hardly believe it herself, after all her Ingo was so full of life that it was bursting out of his voice box at practically all hours of the day. But now he was as quiet as a Tandemaus that Elesa barely noticed he was in the same room as her, gazing at her as if she was some puzzle to solve.

"Ingo is never quiet... unless-!" Emmet exclaimed, eyes widening as his gloved hands came to cover his mouth.

"What?" What did he realize about her boyfriend that she didn't?

"No, it couldn't be," he muttered, shaking his head. "But it's the only thing that makes sense."

"Come on Emmet, tell me," she lept out of her seat to shake his shoulders.

He reached out his hands to place on her own shoulders in kind, drawing his head closer to hers. "Elesa. Ingo is only ever quiet when he is planning something that must be kept a secret."

"Yeah?" She knew this; having dated the man for so long now, Elesa knew that the only way he could keep a secret was if he zipped his mouth shut with great effort on his part.

"And your anniversary is in the summer," Emmet continued staring her down. "And your birthday was in November."

Where was he going with this?

Upon seeing that she was still clueless about what he was trying to lead her thoughts to, Emmet rolled his eyes and said, "What is the milestone that happens after a couple has been together for some time?"

"Marriag-" she cut herself off as her mind caught up to her brain.

Emmet smiled wildly, "Yes."

"No," she gasped in disbelief.

"What else could it be?"

"So you mean, my Swadloon Sweetie is going to propose to me this week," her cheeks turned bright red as she released Emmet's shoulders to turn around, hands slapping her face as she blushed.

"It makes sense," he snapped, a sound softened by the fabric of his gloves. "He took this week off to spend time with you, probably waiting for the perfect moment to get down on one knee and pop the question. And what better time of year to do it than winter in Nimbasa? I am Emmet and I am right!"

Elesa's heart pounded in her chest like a stampede of Bouffalant. She couldn't deny that Emmet's words were seeping into her mind and rattling about, painting a snowy proposal in her mind.

"Ingo is such a romantic," Emmet nodded, a pleased look on his face.

"If I'm to marry Ingo then that means-" she realized before springing around and embracing the other man. "Brother!"

"Sister!"

She nuzzled her cheek against his face, having to lean down slightly to do so as she was much taller than him. When she released him, she said, "Oh, I'm so excited! When do you think he's going to ask?"

"Probably at the end of the week, before the New Year," he commented.

That was too far away. "I wish he would ask me today... or that I would ask him first." After all, it was Elesa who had made the first move on Ingo, who had practically talked himself into circles before uttering nervously that he wished to go get a coffee with her sometime. Elesa had responded in kind by kissing his cheek and saying that it was a date- practically malfunctioning his flustered mind.

"You know Ingo, he likes to take his time with things," Emmet flapped his hand back and forth dismissively. "Milling about. That sort of thing."

"I wonder what ring he got me," knowing her sweetie he would probably make sure to get something that was non-conductive so that she could still wear it during Gym Battles. She sighed, "I know I have to be patient but the excitement might just short me out before he gets the chance to ask."

Her soon-to-be brother-in-law got a devious smirk on his face, "Who says you have to wait?"

"Huh?" she blinked. "What are you implying?"

"You want to see his preparations, yup, and I do too," his nosey side was coming out in full force knowing that Ingo was planning something without him. "So let's just follow him around this week to see what he buys, who he calls, yadda yadda."

"But won't that ruin the surprise?" Elesa asked, feeling neutral about the concept. Honest.

"Surprises are boring, knowing in advance is more fun," Emmet said, which was just about what she expected from the kind of guy who looked up movie plots before watching them.

"Hm," she weighed her options before her. On one hand, it probably wasn't good to spy on her boyfriend like this, especially when he was planning something momentous for their relationship going forward...

On the other hand, if she knew everything about the proposal beforehand then she could coordinate her outfit so that all of the pictures afterward would be perfect.

"Let's do it," she nodded a look of determination firm on her face.

"You know what this means," Emmet gave her a shit-eating grin. "The return of Emmie-" he struck a dorky pose.

So Elesa struck one, much more elegant, pose in kind, "And Ellie!"

"Team Gossip back in action," Emmet twirled around to turn on the big-screen monitor in the room, a Tynamo logo flickering to life. "Our newest operation: spying on a love-struck Subway Boss!"

Elesa placed her hands flat on top of his desk, eyes shining brilliantly as the two discussed the methods of her operation. Oh! She just couldn't wait to inform the girls about what was in store for her later this week!

"This is nice, isn't it?" Elesa asked as she wrapped her arms around Ingo, leaning into him as the lights of Nimbasa shone down below.

"Yes," he grunted, staring out of the window of the cart they were in. They were approaching the top of the Ferris wheel now and his heart was beating so fast that Elesa could practically feel its desperate attempt to escape his ribcage. He must be so nervous to pop the question.

Their spying on Ingo's whereabouts this past week had been a bust for the most part. For one, Ingo did not buy her ring at any of the stores in Castelia, which meant that he had probably bought it way in advance. That was disappointing as Elesa really wanted to see it and Emmet, as the future Best Man, wanted to make fun of his twin's choice of engagement rings.

The only thing that Ingo did buy was some sort of loom. Despite telling her what it was when he brought it back to their apartment, Elesa didn't see him weave anything on it, so she just shrugged it aside as an impulse buy. Not that her Swadloon Sweetie was a window-shopper but maybe the holidays had him hunkering for a new hobby outside of battling and trains. A New Years' resolution even. Who was Elesa to judge?

Emmet did however find out the location of the proposal. It didn't take much spy work to check the history on the desktop the couple shared, seeing as Ingo's password was the same as his childhood one. From there they were able to discover that Ingo had looked into the times that the Rondez-View operated (and somehow ignored the search that went 'what is a Ferris wheel?').

There was nothing more romantic in Nimbasa than the Rondez-View; a couples-only Ferris wheel. And it even held history between the two as Elesa first met the twins in this part of the city, before they got appointed as the Boss' of Gear Station and before she finally worked her way up the ranks to become a Gym Leader. The three of them had been friends for a while before Ingo started to swoon for her, so this place carried a very special place in her heart. And Elesa could think of no better area to propose.

Once their cart reached the very top of the Ferris wheel, Elesa looked away from her boyfriend, assuming that he would pull out the ring when she was gazing away from him so that she could turn around and be 'surprised' at his proposal.

But when she turned back around, Ingo was still staring dully out the window.

Hm. Was he freezing up again? Maybe she should give him a little push, even if it meant revealing that she had an inkling of an idea about what his plans were, "It's ok, sweetie, you can ask me."

"Ask you?" he turned to face her, voice radiating confusion.

"You know," she pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "The question. The one that's," hopefully, "on your mind right now."

"Oh," Ingo practically sagged in relief. "It's really ok for me to ask? You won't be offended?"

"Nothing you could ask would ever offend me, sweetie," Elesa said, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Good," Ingo took in a deep breath before asking, "Who are you?"

"Yes! Wait," Elesa lurched forward to embrace him but stopped herself, jolting awkwardly in her seat.

If Ingo had learned anything from the many joke books that she had given him as stocking stuffers over the years, then Elesa would ask what the punchline to that joke was, but she knew that Ingo still had a rudimentary grasp on the finer aspects of humor. Which meant that he wasn't joking. 

But if he wasn't joking then what did he mean by that question? Obviously, he knew who Elesa was, duh. So then...

Oh! Perhaps that was it. He wanted to test to see if marriage was even something that Elesa was interested in. They had talked about it once or twice, during the early days of their relationship when discussing boundaries and the like, and Elesa's opinion at the time had been 'not now, but in a couple of years.' And it had been a couple of years since then, and both of them were well off in their careers for it, but Elesa could still see and understand his hesitance.

So, she decided to answer his leading question with, "Who am I? Well, I'm your fiancée, Bounsweetie." 

Elesa expected a booming exclamation of jubilation, or even a heavy sigh of relief, but she was most certainly not expecting the way that Ingo's face paled and his eyes rolled up into his head as he murmured, "Oh, dear Sinnoh."

Before promptly fainting on her and knocking his head against the railing of the cart as he collapsed, the whole thing having happened so quickly that she wasn't able to catch him in time.

"Ingo?!"

Extra, from Ingo's Point of View:

The whole conundrum started after the first few months of Ingo's acceptance into the Pearl Clan. They were extraordinarily kind people if a bit old fashion by his standards- but then again, his standards were just a series of question marks and blank spaces so that didn't account for much of anything to the Hisuians- with a remarkably small population in the Icelands.

Perhaps that had been the problem. As once Warden Calaba, in conjunction with the other healers, definitively determined him as a middle-aged man and likely... there was no good way to put this without Ingo succumbing to an intense fluster... ahem, virile the public opinion took a strange turn on Ingo.

Whereas previously the elders didn't think much of him beyond that he was a stranger to their ways- one who was in desperate need of joining the children during schooling sessions- suddenly they were making comments like, "Oh, he is a rather polite man, isn't he?" and "Strong in the ways of Pokémon battling too, practically a warrior in the making."

And instead of being left alone to his own devices, Ingo was constantly getting introduced to various relatives of said elders. And since Ingo was a gentleman- or as the man in white would surely say a pushover- he entertained all these meetings. While his mind and soul curled up into a tiny ball in agony.

They were all lovely people, it was just that Ingo had zero interest in a relationship (his derailed mind practically bellowed at him that he could not, under no circumstances, 'cheat.' Cheat at what, however, he didn't know).

When Irida approached him with the idea that he become the warden to Sneasler at first he refused.

It was an immensely important position, as he had learned whilst sitting crisscross applesauce next to all the children of the clan, stooped forward so as not to intimidate the toddlers. It wouldn't be fair, or proper, for Ingo- a man who was effectively an outsider still to their traditions, even if he was getting educated slowly on that matter- to take on that role.

But Irida refused to take no for an answer and continued to list out the responsibilities that a warden required, hoping that one of them would entice him.

Including, "Of course, this does mean that you will be unable to marry during your tenure, however-"

That caused him to snap his head toward her and quickly say, "Sold," before she could change her mind about him as an applicant.

"Huh?" she had blinked, almost disbelieving that what Irida had assumed was her laying all the cards flat on the table so as to not seem deceitful about what he would have to give up should he rise to the station would end up being the winning sales point.

But what she didn't realize was that all Ingo heard was the perfect excuse to keep saying no to all the- absolutely wonderful, it wasn't them it was him- potential suitors the elders kept trying to hook him up with. Perfect timing too, as he was almost certain that he was running out of reasons on why he couldn't marry any single Pearl of reasonable age to his own.

Becoming a warden was about the best thing that had happened to Ingo in Hisui. And then it took second place after the Galaxy Team surveyor started helping him recover some memories through Pokémon battles.

That being said, Ingo expected to live out the rest of his life without forming a relationship with anyone.

So, you could give a fair estimate as to his surprise when he was suddenly sent back to his own time and promptly slammed into the carpeted floor of some random room, with a stranger- who was quite beautiful, please do not misconstrue his opinion on her- and in clothes that he had not been wearing moments prior.

And how speechless he became once he realized signs that he actually may or may not have been romantically involved with said stranger. Him; the confirmed bachelor of the Highlands.

Well, if there was one thing he was good at- well Ingo found that he was good at a quite many things if his modesty would permit him to say as such- it was going with the flow of things. That had been crucial during his time in Hisui.

Since his brain did not hiss at the idea that he was involved with this enchanting woman, it actually purred every time he remarked on her in his thoughts which must have been a good sign that he'd recover his memories soon... he hoped, Ingo got to work on weaving a marriage mat the way that the elders had insisted he learn... you know... just in case.

But first, he needed to find out what that giant metal wheel he could see from their housing was. It mystified him and he had to know its story.

Extra 2:

"So did he propose?" Caitlin asked, eyes lidded as she sipped her tea.

"No," Elesa glumly stared down at her slice of Cheri berry cake. "He fainted before he could so Emmet's with him in the hospital right now." Emmet had been on the scene prior to that disaster with a congratulations sign- one that he quickly dumped into the nearest trash can after seeing the nasty bump on his twin's head.

The assembly of Gym Leaders and Elite Four members sucked in a sharp hiss of air. Oh, and former Champion Cynthia was also there, having been on vacation in Unova conveniently in time to hear Elesa bemoan this whole situation.

"My condolences," Shauntal winced and pat her hand. "I can't say that I'm... surprised at this turn of events. For one normally so elegant in his prose, Boss Ingo does get rather undone when it comes to expressing himself romantically."

"You're telling me," Elesa shoved a spoonful of cake in her mouth to soothe her misery. She had been wearing such a magnificent outfit too. She pulled the spoon out of her mouth, with it pulling down on her bottom lip as she did, to comment, "He did ask Emmet to give me something in that small moment when he was conscious in the ambulance though."

"The ring?" Skyla asked, leaning forward.

Elesa wished. "No," she shook her head, twisting in her seat to pull out the folded object from her bag. "Apparently the loom he bought earlier in the week was to make this." She punctuated the last word by unfolding the object and showing off the pink mat. 

"It's a nice gesture but admittedly I'm confused about why he thought I would want this," Elesa hadn't mentioned needing a new mat recently, or at least she didn't.

Cynthia, who had been looking away for a second returned her gaze back toward Elesa and promptly spat out the tea she had been drinking, ignoring the shouts of the women around her to exclaim, "Is that a traditional marriage mat from the Pearl Clan?!"

"A what from the huh?"

She lunged across the table and pulled it out of her hands. The action frankly shocked Elesa at the suddenness of it so there wasn't much resistance on her end. Also, somewhere in between Cynthia noticing the mat and yanking it from her hold, she had put on clear latex gloves to hover over the mat reverently.

"This is remarkably preserved," Cynthia commented, inspecting the fabric. "Don't get me wrong, Sinnoh has a good climate for the longevity of textiles, but this doesn't look aged at all."

"Yes," Elesa was still stuck on the fact that the historian stole her gift from her hands. Dumbfounded she continued, "Because my boyfriend made it for me. Recently."

"Hm, I'd like to meet this boyfriend of yours then," Cynthia said idly, still analyzing the mat. "To recreate something like this he must have an extensive background on the history of Hisui."

"What?" Really? Her Ingo? She loved her Swadloon Sweetie dearly but history was very much not one of his strongest aspects, ironically enough.

"How can you tell?" Roxie asked, interest piqued by the turn of events.

"Well, for starters, he managed to perfectly recreate the family crest of Warden Ingo," Cynthia's gloved hand traced one of the shapes on the mat. She did not notice the befuddled looks the Unovans shared with each other. "It was traditional for the familial clans within the Pearl and Diamond Clans to have a symbol solely dedicated to themselves beyond that of the Palkia and Dialga insignias. Since Warden Ingo was an outsider and welcomed into the clan, he had no family to inherit a crest from, as one might expect. So that means he had to start his own, incorporating the iconography typically used to denote a 'foreigner' into the design... here, see?" her finger trailed down the shape.

"Cynthia-"

"And we know that this specific crest belongs to him due to the adjustments made to it during his warden initiation ceremony, where Sneasler symbols were added onto it," Cynthia tapped the vaguely Pokémon-like features. "You would only find this kind of design on warden clothing and personal items. Traditionally, Pearl Clan mats featured a heavy focus on curvilinear designs whereas the Diamond Clan had more geometric aspects, you could never confuse the two," she commented to Shauntal beside her. Cynthia laughed, "Wardens were exempt from this status quo as you could imagine how hard it would be to design an Electrode using only edges."

"Cynthia-"

"Now, there were never any preserved marriage mats for Warden Ingo before or after his brief tenure as Warden of the Ride Pokémon Sneasler," she continued her lecture, not even considering the anxious looks the women were throwing to the other end of the table. "Not because it was forbidden for wardens to marry at that time- that rule was actually discarded during the unification of Sinnoh, the time period he lived in- but because allegedly he disappeared one day. Historians also claimed that he preferred the bachelor life and was just 'good friends' with the other bachelor of the Highlands, and you all know what that really means regarding the sexuality of historical-"

"CYNTHIA!"

"Oh," Cynthia blinked, coming out of historian mode. "Yes, Elesa?"

Elesa's eye twitched, as she asked, "Could you repeat the name of this historical figure for me?"

"Certainly, although if you had been listening attentively you would have heard me say it more than once," she mumbled the latter half. "The warden in question is Warden Ingo of the Pearl Clan."

Elesa chose to have faith that everything her friend had said was just a huge coincidence, but just to make sure she asked, "Do you have a picture of this guy that I could see?"

"Certainly, just one moment," Cynthia pulled out her Rotom phone before turning it around to show Elesa her search. "This is just one of the many photos taken of him in Jubilife Village."

All of the Unovans' jaws dropped. They all turned to stare at Elesa slowly. A pin could drop and everyone would hear it in the room from how quiet it was.

"Your boyfriend seems like a fan of his," Cynthia continued blithely. "What's his name again? Maybe we could chat."

Predictably, Elesa screamed into her hands.

wip friday for yet another au that’s possessed my brain. how fun :D

( this au takes place abt 3~4 months after the events of the scarvio post game! i have a few hcs about the timeline of events so this takes place roughly in july while the main game events are in march~april )

all was quiet.

well, not quiet, but calm enough that penny didn’t mind the walk to her dorm room door, the ring for her keys looped over her finger.

…yea, keys. for a while, it had just been the key to her own dorm, but now there were at least nine.

florian, juliana, nemona, arven; giacomo, mela, atticus, ortega, and eri.

ten, counting her own key.

trading spare dorm room keys with friends was a common act among academy students. kids always crashed over each other’s rooms like it was a sleepover; mostly during the summer, for the kids who didn’t go home and stayed on campus.

she wasn’t exactly used to so many keys, now, but it wasn’t a bad thing.

nor was actually getting outside. as much as a bummer most kids would find community service for the league of all things over the summer, it gave her something to do. she got to be in her element and fix things, which was a win-win.

fiddling with the ring to find her own key once she got to the door and twisting the doorknob, penny was only mildly surprised to find juliana and nemona attempting to sprawl across the rather small rug on her floor, clearly chattering back and forth.

both attempted to crane their heads to the door, quickly chiming out greetings from their spot on the floor. penny’s response was that of an amused hum as she closed the door behind her, putting her bag and zip-over jacket on her desk chair.

“ i’m assuming your ‘paradox sweeping’ has gone well today? ”

right. paradox sweeps, as they liked to call them.

unfortunately, just because the time machine had been shut down didn’t mean all the paradox pokemon disappeared. they were still active in area zero; restless, at that.

the league didn’t seem too keen on letting the public in on what lurked in the crater in the center of the region; fortunately for them, juliana and nemona always seemed to be itching for a battle challenge, and didn’t seem to mind wrangling in any stragglers that got too close to any cities to be dangerous.

there were probably better ways to deal with passive crises like this other than dishing out teenagers to solve their problems, but hey, the league wasn’t exactly the most effective running system.

but juli and nemona were having fun, so penny found no point in trying to nip at them just yet.

nemona rolled off the rug with an exaggerated inhale, as if she had been waiting for someone to ask her that question since noon. juliana seemed to echo that thought with a quiet giggle, though the girl made no effort to cut nemona off until the point was right.

“ dios mío; penny, you should’ve seen what happened today! ”

“ well it already happened, so just tell me about it. ”

despite the almost snarky response, the two girls could tell penny’s interest was still present regardless, seeing as while she was already looking to make a quick evening snack, ( likely something microwaved, ) she still kept glancing over her shoulder, awaiting a continuation.

juliana squinted for a few moments, a smile slowly crossing the brunette’s face. turning to nemona, the two nodded with silent laughter, before turning to penny.

“ we’ll tell you if you come down to the lunch hall with us. ”

“ it’s seven at night! nobody’s out there until at least eight or nine during summer hours, it’ll be nice and quiet, just how you like it. ”

seeing as the two were both sharing that dopey, mischievous grin they constantly wore, penny eventually complied with a huff. it was like their secret little version of baby doll eyes- hell, she’d seen them get it to work on arven more than once. ..then again, arven wasn’t exactly the toughest out there, so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised by that.

“ alright, alright. just let me get my pajamas on first. ”

waving in dismissal with a sigh in defeat, penny picked up the half folded porygon themed t-shirt and shorts, retreating to the bathroom for a few moments to switch her clothes, while nemona and juliana finally got up from their tangle of limbs and rug.

when the blue-and-red-haired girl did finally reappear, tossing her outfit from before into a hamper, nemona was quick to gently, yet enthusiastically, grab the other’s wrist, tugging her to the door with a grin.

“ c’mon! i think they have grilled cheese and soup today! ”

..grilled cheese didn’t sound awful.

and so it is finally here !! first chapter of split tracks !!

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

recently, emmet has been seeing a reoccurring passenger; one who never talks, who always hands him messages on crumpled slips of paper that are always more cryptic then the last.

slips of paper that have managed to apparently save his brother, made him think, and made him realize something is inevitably wrong.

word count :

2,429.

emmet sat up with a hum that morning, checking the time on the alarm clock.

5:26 am.

..that stranger yesterday had said whatever ‘tragedy’ would strike would hit in.

four minutes from now.

..he didn’t exactly believe strangers; this one was no exception.

the stranger with blonde hair and eyes, yesterday, who seemed like they knew things he could not comprehend. the stranger, who looked almost shellshocked, seeing him at the end of the doubles line; the one who battled diligently, yes, but had something on his mind, just by the way his eyes kept flickering to him and not his pokemon the entire time.

a look of concern. worry. as if he expected him to fall through the floor or something.

but somehow he felt compelled to believe this time. just a bit.

“ just don’t let your brother go into his office at 5:30. trust me. ”

the little crumpled paper slip was still in his jacket, stashed safely in his pocket, but the handwriting was neat enough to remember without having to grab it.

legs dangling off the bed, the sound of the bathroom sink already confirmed ingo was up before him; something he regularly expected. getting up with a huff, emmet trodded across the hall, peeking into the bathroom doorway.

“ mmmmorning ingo. i think we may have mixed up our paperwork last night. can i check your office for mine? ”

while half muffled by a toothbrush, ingo’s nod of a ‘yes’ was a clear enough indication. emmet nodded back with his ever-so-present smile, ducking his head back out of the doorframe, discreetly heading back to his room to beckon for his pokemon to follow, before striding to ingo’s office.

( while ingo could tell emmet was certainly not looking for paperwork, based on the sight of a familiar electric eel following him across the hall, it was still morning. he was rather tired, and trusted his brother enough to not question his antics. )

emmet had made up that cover-up story on a whim. he hated lying, he really did, but that stranger’s warning made him nervous. just a bit.

closing the door behind him, his eyes shifted towards the clock resting on his brother’s desk, watching the time intently.

5:28.

5:29.

..nothing so far.

emmet heaved a sigh of relief; so whatever he had been told yesterday was nothing to worry about, as most things were. the sound of the door handle caught his attention, and ingo soon poked his head through the door, craning his head.

“ did you find what you needed? ”

( ingo would play along with said lie for a bit, just to save whatever sparse amount of dignity emmet was skewing out here. he was aware his brother despised lying, probably more than he hated losing, therefore whatever reason he was doing it for must be a good one. )

while emmet’s mouth did part as he fumbled for a response, the sound of crackling glass caught both of their attention. frankly, emmet was a bit afraid to turn around at the noise. the window behind emmet was breaking, breaking, collapsing in on itself, with some sort of malformed energy spilling out of it in waves.

dread seemed to lock in on emmet’s chest, ( in a similar fashion to the bits and spokes of glass now digging into his back, ) as he quickly moved to make a run for the door, rather missing the narrow gap ingo had created by opening it and ramming in shut instead. eelektross practically sauntered after and curled around the man’s torso, clearly attempting to shield him further from whatever was forming in the jaggedly broken window. silver eyes quickly darted to the clock, still sitting almost like an omen on ingo’s desk.

5:30.

shit.

attempting to put as much space between him and the other wall, emmet pressed himself against the door, gritting his teeth and grabbing for the doorknob.

( clearly ingo was having the same idea, twisting the doorknob on the other side and attempting to shove it open with all his weight. seeing as the two of them were pushing opposite ways with equal force, the door hardly budged, proving both of their attempts futile. perhaps the panic had not given either of them the idea to loosen their holds. )

“ emmet!? emmet, what is going on in there!? ”

( he couldn’t see anything; he could hear the noise of glass shattering and things violently being shoved and thrown around as if a windstorm had been let loose in his office, but the lack of response other than emmet’s hisses of pain and worried chirping from eelektross making their way through the crack in the door was nothing reassuring. )

it was a…like looking at a huge hole in the wall, swirling in the gap of the window frame. devoid of hue; a small void practically eating its way into the room, other than little flecks of color blurring past his vision. reds, blues, greens; he dug the heels of his slippers into the floor, praying he did not slip any closer.

thankfully the door was sturdy, and was capable of taking the force of emmet practically squishing himself against the frame like a startled wild animal, elektross carefully coiled around him to avoid the small specks of blood and glass dug into his back, while the swirling void only seemed to beckon them in, tearing through the room, knocking over papers and shelves, and only inching closer than comfortable.

eventually, it abruptly stopped.

just..like that.

while the broken window and the mess of furniture and papers remained, the cracks that dug their way into the walls disappeared. the swirling entity was gone in a fraction of a second. emmet did not even see it gradually disappear. he had simply blinked, and it had disappeared faster than it had ever been there.

eventually leaning off the door, he quickly staggered back as it practically flew open, a near horrified ingo flying through the doorway with his xtransceiver clutched in one hand, clearly milliseconds away from calling some sort of authorities, at best.

( ingo had backed up as far as he could down the hall before charging forward with his shoulder at the forefront, practically slamming into the door like a crazed tauros. with emmet relinquishing his end of the door stalemate, it had practically knocked off the hinge, swinging open fast enough it crashed into the adjacent wall. )

emmet was later getting ready than ingo that morning. having to sidetrack his usual routine to clean and patch the entire back of his upper torso, quickly shrugging off the whole scenario with a strained grin. he practically shooed ingo off to work, assuring him he would be fine and to just take the commute alone that morning. he’d catch up.

despite the scrunched-up face ingo made; the one he always made when he was concerned, the one where the corners of his lips would somehow turn even further down, he eventually complied, leaving with a sigh and a light flick on emmet’s forehead. a very clear “you should stay home for today” sort of gesture.

that, and a “we’re going to eventually talk about this” face. that, emmet dreaded, just a bit. mainly because his explanation would sound more like a messy cover-up than the truth, despite it being so.

but emmet was alright. fine, really, just a few scrapes and cuts to clean up and he would be all good. good as new!

( going through the work day with gauze and bandaids layered on and scraping against the fabric of his shirt was agony. never again. )

he did see the stranger, later in the day, on the doubles line again.

perhaps he was still distracted, by the morning happenings, as emmet surprisingly lost to the man, his hands resting behind his back, ( very lightly so, ) as he congratulated the other. the blonde haired man’s response was a light nod with a dip of his hat, and eventually, he fished in his pocket, seemingly holding another piece of paper in his hand, just as crumpled as the last.

emmet stared, quietly so, for a few moments, brows furrowed.

“ i am emmet. how did you know what was going to happen this morning? ”

the man shook his head, a refute of a response, before holding out the paper, an expectant stare resting on emmet’s hands. he wanted him to take it again, presumably.

tentatively, he accepted the note with a cautious gloved hand, attempting to smooth it out, refold it, then pocket it for later. looking back at the stranger, emmet could only stare for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the train itself moving on its way echoing through the cart.

as the stranger moved to walk past, presumably to move onto the next cart, emmet could not help but reach out, lightly grabbing the other man’s sleeve. while not angry, he certainly seemed startled, his head craning over his shoulder to stare back at the man in white.

“ i am emmet. please. at least inform me of your name before you leave, sir. ”

as much as he was supposed to stay stoic, professional; there was an edge of desperation to his tone.

people just don’t. show up and warn you of things like that. he wanted- no, needed, an explanation.

the stranger blinks; once, twice. emmet released his faint grip on the other’s arm, resting his hands behind his back once again in a nervous manner, almost apologetically. eventually, the man did speak up, pulling the worn red scarf down from around his mouth with a sigh.

“ ..volo. ”

“ volo? ”

“ my name is volo. goodbye for now, emmet treyne. ”

and with that, he left.

brows still furrowed, emmet glanced towards the overhead clock, fashioned at the front of the cart.

1:26 pm.

his lunch break was..

…four minutes from now.

he strongly doubted there would be any passengers making it this far in the next four minutes.

so, sitting down on one of the cart seats, he carefully removed the paper note from his pocket, delicately unfolding it to read the contents as the hums and clicks of the train gliding across the tracks filled the silence volo had left.

( not like the man made much noise that mechanical whirs would need to fill, anyways. )

by the time one thirty hit, he had finished reading, the note now stashed with the other in his pocket. he brushed past depot agent cameron perhaps a little too harshly, quickly wrenching around with a sputtered apology before continuing on his way to his office, each stride seeming longer and more rushed than the last.

the door practically swung open, ironically, and he quickly settled down, propping his head up with his elbows resting on his desk. a headache was already building up; a sparking, electrical pain at his temples, and he could not help but rest his head on the desk, hat sliding down and covering his face.

this was too much to palette for one day.

rubbing a thumb against the side of his temple in hopes to alleviate the pain, emmet sat there for a few moments in disoriented silence, occasionally pushing his hat upward to keep an eye on the door in case someone came knocking.

perhaps he should’ve taken ingo’s advice to stay home.

..no, that wouldn’t have been a good idea either. he wouldn’t have gotten the second paper tucked away in his pocket, and that was far too much a clue.

( that, and he was far too stubborn to admit he needed to rest, despite the quite obvious fact his body was not happy with him today. )

pain fires off in his head like fireworks, and he clenched a hand in a fistful of hair, shifting his hat to the side.

there was a rumble now reverberating through the office as if it was shaking it; definitely not from the trains, none ran that close to his office. he quickly sat up in alarm, rather roughly so, gritting his teeth at the movement.

an all too recently familiar sound of crackling glass echoed through the room, and emmet felt as if his heart had sunk into his chest like a frozen brick of ice, sending chills down his spine.

quickly sourcing the noise as above and not behind him, he half rolled, half fell off his chair, scrambling and scuttling to somewhat crawl underneath his desk, holding his arms over his head as if it was an earthquake.

a “space time distortion,” or whatever the paper had called it. emmet kept himself grounded by holding onto the legs of the desk, which, while slightly scooted around by the swirling winds created by the warp fixated on the ceiling of his office, did not leave the ground.

smaller things and papers were being thrown around wildly, though; he could see them, blurring past his vision alongside the little speckles of color in the brief moments he could catch from his small spot of safety.

there was the sound of something falling on his desk with a thump, then silence.

seeing as the racket had died down, emmet slowly inched his way out from under the desk, surveying the damage with a rattled exhale. grasping the armrests of his desk chair, he gradually hoisted himself up with a few grunts and huffs of effort, slumping into the chair with another deep sigh.

as it slowly spun around from his weight, seeing as he was clearly sitting the wrong way, eventually emmet noticed what had fallen on his desk, and his response was only another deep huff.

( though, now it was merely annoyance of anything. this was just making a mess. )

a scrap or two of black fabric, half buried in a clump of snow now scattered on his desk. and soaking his paperwork! no good at all!

..admittedly he was too tired to be particularly fuming. there were still pops and sparks building behind his eyes, the ones that made his vision blurry and his head feel heavy, so he quickly moved to brush most of the snow off his desk, stashing away the fabric scraps, ( out of mere curiosity, really, ) and slumping down further in his chair.

he was going to hate calling out early, but the further the break went on, the more the idea was entertained. the shallow wounds along his back were still sore, only agitated by all the rolling out of his chair and movement, and his headache was no better.

..arceus, he hated today already.

split tracks chapter two time !! i’m definitely trying to work out an update schedule and so far with my up and down motivation biweekly seems stable enough :]

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

emmet goes home early; both in hopes of solving his headache, and solving the mystery behind the day’s happenings.

word count :

1,712.

he did, inevitably, check out early at the end of his break, as much as he hated the sentiment. nobody on staff seemed to dare ask why; both of the subway bosses hardly took off time, so any point in which they did take breaks for themselves was not to be questioned.

fumbling for his house keys, emmet slowly unlocked the front door, closing it behind him. hanging his coat and hat on the rack next to it, the man trudged himself straight to his room, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace.

putting away all his work things, he also made sure all the latches on his team’s pokeballs were open, so they could come and go as they pleased while he was fixated on what he needed to do, despite the still mounding headache.

quickly getting himself in an outfit more comfortable for around the house leisure, ( or as close to leisure as he could get, ) he picked up his laptop case from his nightstand, which was fondly covered in all sorts of gear station and bug-type stickers, before settling in a cross-legged position on his bed, the notes and fabric scraps carefully held in one hand.

archeops was one of the first to come trodding over out of intrigue, hoisting himself up onto the bed with his feathery claws and sticking his snout underneath emmet’s arm while staring up with wide, curious eyes.

emmet could not help but snort at that, briefly acknowledging the fossil pokemon with a scratch under the chin and a tilt of his head.

“ thank you for checking on me, archeops. i am doing something important right now. i ask you to keep your cab settled. ”

seeing as archeops’ response was to wriggle into a more comfortable position, still resting his head in place, emmet was quite sure the message got across.

opening his laptop with a hum, he unfolded the paper scraps, checking them both over a second time.

‘space-time distortions.’

so he had mixed up the name earlier. not too big of a sweat.

quickly entering the phrase into the search bar, idle hands made their way to scrolling, silver eyes skimming across the screen as emmet silently hoped something, just something , would shed more light on the subject than what paper scraps could.

clicking open one of the links, emmet leaned forward, squinting faintly at the screen. clearly copying the man’s behavior, archeops outstretched his neck, his snout resting on the corner of the keyboard.

something about “ultra wormholes,” now. how they were similar to.. whatever had torn up his and ingo’s offices.

..if this stranger just wanted to give him a worse migraine, goal achieved. at this point, even staring at the laptop screen had begun to hurt, firing off little pops and sparks behind his eyes. emmet pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep inhale, holding said breath, before letting out a sigh.

clicking on the screen reader with a scowl, emmet set the laptop on his nightstand, rolling over on his side and listening begrudgingly as a monotone voice began to drone the article out loud.

archeops snuggled his way up against emmet with a concerned chitter, and the silver-haired man simply responded with a hum.

“ ultra wormholes have been a recorded phenomenon in alola for centuries and still occur in modern time, unlike its ancient sinnohan counterpart, space-time distortions. distinct holes in space that lead to other dimensions entirely; through intensive research, it has been observed how pokemon manage to traverse them with ease, but have proven to have detrimental effects on the human body. ”

emmet could not help but tense at that, lips pressed shut in a thin line. even if it was a robotic, disembodied voice emitting from his laptop, and not something that could comprehend the bubbling stress and anticipation sitting in the back of his throat, there was still a silent indicator of a “ hurry up, ” practically spilling off the man in waves.

“ in recent influxes, people who have reportedly fallen through these aforementioned wormholes have suffered severe bouts of amnesia; that, at least, seems to have stayed universal between the two variants. in older times, it was rumored that one of ancient sinnoh’s wardens, and even the hero of hisui herself, had fallen from these spatial rifts, never to return to their home time. “

so if either of them had fallen in; emmet thought, with a mounding sort of dread in his throat, they would’ve been plunged to dragons knows where with no recollection. great to know. chills practically rolled down his spine as he shuffled to shut off the laptop; he had heard enough for now, and he was feeling no better

arm falling slack over the side of the bed, the silver-haired man lay still there for a few moments, eventually hoisting the stray limb back onto the bed and under the covers.

archeops had made himself cozy curled up on top of the blanket at emmet’s side, chittering and crooning with an occasional parroted “ safety checks! safety checks! “ in an attempt in echoing ingo’s voice.

oh.

right.

he had checked out early.

which meant he would be home alone for the next few hours.

drawing in an inhale, emmet buried his face in the pillow, with a long, exasperated sigh.

..it wouldn’t kill him to take a nap.

unfortunately for emmet, he apparently wasn’t allowed to have nice things anymore.

for one, his so-called ‘nap’ went on way longer than he would’ve preferred; there was no light coming through his bedroom window. considering the light switch was off as well, it was safe to say either ingo or one of his pokemon had shut it off.

two. his entire top half was freezing. and soaked. and there was a small weight on his chest; not a joltik, he would’ve been electrocuted by now. considering the tiny bits of something solid he was able to pick out in the dark, clinging to his hair, skin, shirt; it was snow.

another heap of half-melted snow.

balling his hands into fists, he shoved off the covers, grabbing whatever was rested on him with a loud string of half-coherent expressions of annoyance, storming across the room and flicking the switch on.

yep. more snow.

well, at least whatever distortion thing this time didn’t tear up his room.

now pausing to look at the object rather harshly grasped in his hand, he seemed to fumble with the thing for a few moments, squinting.

it resembled a pokeball, sure, but it seemed more…worn. old. weathered.

it was definitely empty; flicking open the latch, ( not a button, oddly enough, ) emmet was, in fact, able to confirm the thing was vacant. it didn’t have the same plastic and metal hand feel, though. the reddish half seemed slightly more weighted, as if carved from stone or rock, while what would’ve been the white half seemed almost wooden, indicated by texture, coloration, marbling; everything.

it was fascinating, quickly derailing his thoughts to examine such a thing in his hands, yet oh-so frustrating once his train of thought returned to the station. right. his bed was still soaked. so was he.

checking the time on his xtransciever, which was charging on his dresser, it read roughly 8:30.

alright. his head didn’t feel like there was a firework show setting off inside it anymore, so maybe it would be a good idea to report this whole…distortion situation to someone.

according to that article, there was a branch of the interpol that could handle that. the station in nimbasa wasn’t too far away; he considered it walking distance.

quickly changing out of his cold, drenched pajama shirt and bottoms into something more presentable, emmet grabbed his casual coat, pocketing the odd pokeball as well as archeops’ while walking and fitting his arms into the sleeves at the same time, leaving his room and making his way down the stairs.

the feathered pokemon in question, who had hopped his way to his little bed after the distortion had decided to drop a heap of snow into the room, quickly followed, returning to his pokeball once he had caught up with emmet.

( seeing as the kitchen light was on, ingo was likely in there, presumably having his evening tea. the tv was running in the background; some documentary, if he tuned in hard enough. ingo wasn’t much of a documentary person unless it was intriguing; he simply enjoyed the background noise. )

emmet never understood how he enjoyed that stuff.

the tea, that is.

ingo always liked his drinks sweet, so emmet only wrinkled his nose in contempt when he noticed the cup in his hurry down the stairs.

( the silver-haired man looked up from his mug, leaning against the counter with a hum. resting the cup down, he took a few steps in approach, raising a brow. )

“ emmet? where are you going at this hour? it is not exactly late, but i was told by cameron earlier that you were not feeling well, and you were asleep by the time i got home to ask how you were doing. ”

“ i am emmet. i am filing a report to interpol. i will be back in the next hour. i am verrry much fine. ”

emmet’s hand rested on the door handle, briefly, before quickly making his ‘escape’, leaving ingo very little room to question why.

( ingo was not stupid. the other’s rushed departure and lack of clarification was plenty of a clue. emmet did not lie often; he knew he hated doing such a thing, but withholding things masked behind vague words was something he apparently wasn’t opposed to. )

( plus, he had explained nothing about what had happened that morning. asking to check his office, slamming the door shut, and walking out like a hurricane had shredded through the room with bits of glass and debris digging into his skin like nails. )

( emmet was a bad liar, but he was worse at making what he was doing seem insignificant. grabbing his coat, keys, xtransciever, and chandelure’s pokeball, ingo turned to follow; in his pajamas and a trench coat, sure, but clearly not intent on being left in the dark. both literally and figuratively; it was dark outside. )

chapter three for today!! :]

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

ingo finds many things question worthy while trying to follow his brother.

word count :

1,707.

( in his pajamas and a trench coat, sure, but clearly intent on not being left in the dark. )

to the passerby folk, seeing the sight that was subway boss ingo striding down the sidewalk with the motivation of an irritated tauros, yet looking as if he had just hardly rolled out of bed, was an odd sight, but everyone kept their comments to themselves.

it was nimbasa city, anyways. there was hardly anything you could consider a normal sight.

further up ahead, with emmet walking with roughly the same amount of resolve, nobody bothered question that either.

and to the much fewer who had put together the two were in a tense pursuit of one another, it raised mild flags, but it was rightfully not their buisness to interfere.

( for it being somewhat late in the evening, the streets were hardly close to empty. ingo noted that with a silent huff, weaving in and out of groups of strangers and somewhat familar passengers alike with an apology and polite tip of his hat; like he always did. )

( though perhaps falling into work habits now of all times, especially when this was now family buisness, at least to him, was to mask the concern sitting in his chest, like an uncomfortable, shifting weight. )

( something about today in general frankly disturbed him, even if it was just a little bit, and he certainly did not appreciate the lack of context he was being given. )

( that, and he was worried. )

( rounding another corner, he nearly crashed face first into another man; ) who, clearly, was much more attentive then he was, and swerved out of the way with a mild look of surprise.

( while ingo quickly turned to sputter out an apology, ) the blonde haired man shook his head with a soft laugh.

“ hey, hey- don't worry about it. no hard feelings. ”

blinking a few times, the other man seemed to stare for a few moments, as if he was practically studying his expression, before nodding, snapping his fingers.

“ ah- you're subway boss ingo, right?”

“ yes, that would be me. although it seems you've caught me off my usual tracks. ”

( haftheartedly gesturing to the fact he was not in uniform, ) the blonde haired stranger nodded, eventually holding out one hand with a hum.

“ well it's a pleasure to meet you, off duty, mr. ingo. my name's volo. i don't think i've had the pleasure of taking the battle subway very often, i've stopped on the doubles lines a few times. ”

( ingo held his hand out as well , accepting the polite gesture of a handshake with a nod. ) eventually volo drew his hand back, craning his head while clearly rummaging through his pockets for something.

eventually procuring a light blue post it note, neatly folded up in half, then in half again the other way, he handed the paper to ingo, ( who took it from his hand tentatively with a puzzled tilt of his head. before he could even unfold it, ) volo chimed in, a now oddly chipper tone to his voice in comparison to before.

“ well, i don't mean to hold you up, seeing as you're clearly in a rush, but would you mind passing this on to your brother for me when you see him next? i meant to give it to him tommorow, but this just seems all too coincidental to not take the oppurtunity, hah. ”

( while still admittedly offput by the other's switch in demeanor, ingo did eventually respond with a firm nod. )

and with that, volo practically dissapeared into the crowd with a simple wave goodbye.

( blinking a few times, ingo did eye the paper a few times over, baffled as to what someone could need to tell emmet so soon, yet feel the need to use post it notes instead of, what-- a text or email, but it wasn't his buisness. he'd give it to him at the station, as promised. )

( ..then again, he never distinctly promised anything. )

( no, no, no, you are not opening that letter, ingo treyne-- the man scolded himself practically like a toddler, stuffing the note in his jacket pocket and continuing on his way. )

( trodding right through the interpol station doorway, ingo quickly swept over the 'waiting' sort of area, eventually spotting emmet amongst the rather quiet room. )

the man was sitting half hunched over in a chair with his head rested on his hands; he kept bouncing his knee; the source of the constant “tap tap tap” echoing through the room, and his mouth did not move once, ( not even when ingo walked over and sat down beside him. )

“ emmet? are you ok? ”

tap. tap. tap.

“ you haven't informed me of anything that happened today, emmet. i'm concerned. ”

tap. tap. tap.

“ are you upset with me, or is right now just not a talking time? i don't need you to speak to me, emmet, but- ”

taptaptaptaptaptap--

still staring at the ground, a repeated clicking sound still eminating from the heel of his shoe hitting the floor, emmet held up one hand, then what one could read as a peace sign.

two fingers; that meant the latter.

( ingo could not help but sigh in relief. )

” that works. is it alright if we communicate like this until you've done what you need to do here, or until you're ok to talk? “

emmet's two fingered gesture then changed to a thumbs up.

” alright. how are you feeling right now? “

a thumbs up quickly shifted to a thumb's down.

“ ..is it related to what happened this morning? “

back to a thumb's up.

“ did you know something was going to happen today? ”

while he seemed uncertain, his hand stayed in a thumbs up.

“ how? ”

no response.

“ ah - no, that's too broad of a question. did someone tell you, or did you know on your own? ”

one finger. that meant the former.

“ were they on the doubles line today? ”

( ingo began to search his pockets for the note, ) while emmet's gesture of choice changes to a thumb's up.

( he carefully retrieved the pale blue slip of paper, showing it to the man sitting beside him; ) as emmet's expression turned from that of a frustrated look to just stunned, ( ingo had a solid idea on what to ask next. )

“ did they write on post it notes and go by the name volo? ”

emmet practically nabbed the paper right from his hands without responding.

( while ingo was surprised by such a reaction of all things, he did not react or make any sort of comment, simply watching with a raised brow. )

eventually after skimming the contents, emmet quickly folded the note and stashed it away; glancing back to ingo, almost apologetically, at first, before his face seemed to twist into a more confused look.

( as ingo stared back, initially in understanding, he eventually looked equally puzzled, craning his head. )

silently answering the equally silent question, emmet pointed to one eye, winking, before pointing to ingo's face.

” ..huh? is there something on my face ? “

he shook his head. slightly more aggressive with the gesture, emmet nearly poked ingo in the eye, trying to get his point across with a huff.

” is there something wrong with my eye? “

a nod. emmet quickly fished his xtransceiver out of his pocket; turning on the camera, he held the device between the two of them, gesturing for ingo to lean over and look.

seeing the worry cross ingo's face at his own reflection, emmet's brows furrowed. eventually the man cleared his throat, making an attempt at voicing his concerns before being cut off.

“ mr. emmet treyne? there's an officer availible to take your case, now. ”

the man at the front desk spoke up, in the direction of the twins; emmet nearly shot out of his chair like a misfired rocket, stuffing the paper note as well as his xtrans back in his pocket, before briefly turning to ingo.

“ will explain later. promise. “

( another thing, ingo could note about his brother; he despised breaking promises nearly as much as he hated lying. )

( so a nod in response was all he needed to do to show he understood. )

( ultimately, ingo chose to hang around in the waiting room. )

( frankly, he was rather sure he should see a doctor; human pupils were not supposed to change shape, especially something as jagged as a triangle of all things. )

( while he did have to admit it looked quite cool-- it still was a pressing matter! )

( snapping him out of his thoughts, his xtrans buzzed a few times over. drawing it from his pocket, he skimmed the messages, noting they were from emmet. )

em 🚊 || 9:17pm

hello

do you know who is on overnight security duty at the station tonight

there is something the officers want to take a look at

( something that urgent had happened at the station as well? ingo could not help but bite down on his tongue. he knew emmet had left early due to a headache, according to what he had been told; but that was it. )

ingo || 9:18pm

Jackie always covers the night shifts. They’ll be there regardless. I believe Cameron is there as well tonight.

Why do you ask?

em 🚊 || 9:20pm

security cams

there is something important on the securities cams

verrry important

could you contact them and let them know we will be making an unexpected stop there they don’t get too caught off guard

more for cameron then jackie

ingo || 9:22pm

👍

( … )

( right. he had promised. promised to explain everything later. )

( with that, ingo excused himself outside of the building with a hum, dialing to make a call. )

sometimes 7am wips are ok

chapter four !! getting close to some of the bigger reveals ^^

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

evidence starts to be gathered, and emmet begins to explain himself.

word count :

1,565

“ boss emmet? i thought you went home earlier than usuaaaaal- hello officers! what brings you to our humble station at such an hour? ”

jackie, if good at one thing, was reading the room. the boss was not standing in his usual confident, rigid posture; despite being the tallest person in the room, it looked as if he was somewhat trying to make himself seem smaller. noting the brown and purple haired officers at either of his sides; not by name, seeing as they weren’t faces they exactly recognized, but the shiny silver interpol badges pinned on their persons was enough.

scooting back in their desk chair, the depot agent adjusted their hat, fixing their posture more formally and sitting up straight.

“ cameron’s doing a maintenance round on the southbound tunnel, if you’re looking for him. ”

“ from what we’ve been told, mx. jackie, you’re the individual we need to speak with. we need you to pull up the security camera footage in mr. treyne’s office from about 1:29pm. ”

the man with darker hair nodded, his hands resting in his pockets loosely.

“ got it. ”

with a nod and small two fingered salute, they spun in their chair to face the monitors settled around the desk. the room went from awkward silences to being full of the sound of intent mouse clicking and keyboard taps. after a few moments, jackie turns their head, admittedly a bit intimidated, but keeping a cool front regardless.

“ do you want this on a USB, or is just seeing the footage here alright? ”

“ if it’s within the realm of convenience right now, a USB would be of much use. ”

the formally dressed woman spoke up, this time.

“ got it, officer. i’ll go grab one- you three can watch whatever you need to see on that left monitor. ”

getting up from their chair and heading towards a filing cabinet, jackie could not help but find themself suppressing a shiver. security was usually their department, considering how.. frequent, they were on the job.

so they had been in perfect witness of.. whatever happened earlier.

the whole interaction, boss emmet had been eerily silent; even as jackie discreetly paused with the empty USB stick grasped in one hand, watching the three quietly huddle close to the monitor, they noticed the way he hung back, silvery eyes glazed with worry. maybe even mild fear; not one they could comprehend with just a glance.

jackie was perceptive, sure, but unfortunately could not read minds. as convenient as that would be.

so, unable to tell what thoughts were buzzing in their boss’ head, they simply passed him the USB without a word, dipping their head with a tilt of their hat.

seeing his own panic from an outsider’s perspective was mildly unnerving, at best. watching over the recording silently, brows furrowed, he watched as the tiny numbers on what was his desk clock shift to 1:30- the resounding shake afterward, and his own frantic scramble underneath his desk as the room began to tremble from the otherworldly force. the way his office was left in disarray, the way that heap of snow and fabric scraps, one of which was bunched in his pocket, were flung into the room as the jagged portal of sorts sealed itself shut.

his jaw stayed clenched shut as he passed the empty USB drive to officer looker, ( that was his name, though not something he thought was necessary to verbalize at the moment, ) resting gloved hands at his sides with a rattled sigh.

watching the detectives calmly do their work, eventually the other turns to him, ( anabel was her name, yet, once again, it was not something he felt the need to address out loud. )

everyone was silent, anyways; looker was watching as the security footage slowly downloaded, jackie was awkwardly shifted to the side, watching every move anyone made in the room like a rather stern swana.

subtly, that is.

his mind being lost amidst his little observation, emmet snapped back to attention as anabel, ( yes, the other officer, ) carefully rested a plain white card, with fine black print. a business card, sort of, except it didn’t really advertise, just state the obvious.

“ we’ll be in contact with you soon, mr. treyne. have a good night, and get home safe. ”

the two leave soon after, looker carefully pocketing the USB. after what seemed to be several, silent, streeeetched out minutes, emmet swore he finally saw jackie blink once again, as they adjusted their hat, stifling a sigh.

“ bit tense there, ey boss? ”

albeit an awkward face, emmet finds himself making, he eventually nodded, hands resting in his pocket. he found himself insistently flicking the latch of the old, weathered pokeball once again, perhaps as a way to channel his current feelings, and while eventually jackie did raise an eyebrow at the clicking, the depot agent didn’t press.

“ well it’s getting late, and i presume you’ve had a long day. i’ll be back to my work, hut follow those officers’ advice and get home safely, alright boss? ”

yet again, emmet nods.

the walk home was neither particularly bad nor good. dark, but the street lights served their purpose, and he found himself able to navigate back home just fine. in full honesty, emmet was a tad concerned the moment he walked in the doorway, ingo would be sitting on the couch with the lights off like a dramatic parent waiting for their child who snuck out.

somehow arceus had managed to give him worse of a reality, as not one, but two silhouettes were visible in the slightly lit up windows as he neared the house.

taking in a deep breath, emmet reached for his keys, opening the door with a heavy exhale.

“ i am emmet. ingo, why did you invite elesa over at such an hour. ”

( raising a brow, as if feigning innocence, the other silver haired man was visible in the living room, sitting criss cross on the couch with chandelure rested in his lap, ) the pokemon emitting a low chime as emmet walked through the door.

( the corners of his lips were ever so further down then usual; clearly a sign ingo meant business. )

that, and elesa leaning over the back of the sofa, her arms crossed with nothing short of a stern look on her face. now both of them looked like disappointed parents.

sighing in defeat, emmet hung up his coat, grabbing the eccentric pokeball, the small series of post it notes, and fabric scrap from the pocket, and holding the small assortment of objects in his hands as he sat on the couch beside his brother. while both of them raised eyebrows at the odd collection, neither seemed to question it at first.

after a few beats of silence, emmet spoke up first.

“ i assume you heard what happened from ingo. ”

“ who else? can’t exactly go worrying everyone and not expect someone to call me, em. ”

lightly flicking a stray piece of hair on his head, elesa’s face softened, and eventually ingo’s further then usual frown settled as well.

“ now do you have a spot where you want to start, or would you prefer prompting? ”

while there was a bit of an amused edge to elesa’s words, emmet’s response was a snort, carefully thumbing the latch of the pokeball once again.

( this time, ingo seemed to notice it more, tentatively reaching out a hand in a silent “could i hold this?” )

noting the other’s gesturing and fascinated expression, emmet passed him the thing, seeing no harm in it.

“ that fell out of the..space time distortion that woke me up. verrry rudely so. ”

( ingo seemed practically enraptured by the item in his hands, but the brief flicker of his eyes back to emmet with a small nod was his indication of paying attention. ) chandelure seemed to chime in tune with it’s trainer’s enthusiasm, clearly.

emmet does not vocally wince at the way one eye is still in that peculiar triangle shape, and not in fact some twisted hallucination, but he sure wants to.

instead, he focuses once again.

at some point in his explanation, elesa moves from her position behind the couch to sit on emmet’s other side, also intently listening.

“ right. i did not explain what that was. a space time distortion is a rupture in time and space. caused by weak points in these places. or by other external means. for some reason, i believe they are being drawn to me. i do not know why, but something is afoot, and i am going to set it right by whatever means i must take. ”

he holds up the first post it note; a pale yellow, a simple note written on it’s front side.

“ to emmet treyne. ”

“ you don’t know me. that’s ok. but i need you to listen very carefully to this note. ”

“ your brother is in danger. i can’t tell you what just yet, but make sure neither of you are in his office at 5:30 tomorrow morning. ”

“ -v. ”

“ but i do not believe i was their original target. ”

wip wednesday time !!

shaking myself to finish this split tracks chapter i’ve hyped myself up soooo much to writing it now actually doing it is just. waugh

chapter five! point five. 5.5. an interlude, if you will.

i just needed to work on something other than chapter six so i don’t burn myself out, so i dusted together a little in between for now + a doodle to go with.

general summary :

as nimbasa city falls to a rest, a certain blond haired ponders the point of his trip.

word count :

724

time ticks, ticks, ticks along, at what feels like at a sliggoo’s pace.

comforting, yet dull.

comforting, in the sense that time was still moving; as it always has, and would likely continue to do.

dull, in the sense he had seen so many sunsets in his ever expanding lifetime that they had begun to lose their sentiment.

sitting on the hotel balcony railing, the blonde haired figure seemed to be mulling his thoughts along; centuries of memories, conversations, places, people-

all condensed in a neat little bow inside his skull.

immortality was quite the cruel thing.

a small sliver of him was envious there was no one to share his agony with.

though, it would be selfish to wish the same pain on someone else, no?

that didn’t matter, really. he was already somewhat of a selfish person.

that, and they were just hopes. trees without fruit. never coming to bear anything as a product of devotion.

not as if it would be magically granted of him. wishmaking was not within the qualms of unova’s legendaries, anyways.

.. speaking of unova, he had not intended to stay this long. perhaps a few days- the cities were the faintest bit overwhelming, with all the modern hustle and bustle.

that, and the new hurdle he had created for himself.

emmet treyne. brother of ingo treyne.

or, as he had known him as, warden ingo.

volo faintly remembered the other’s talk of a man who looked just like him- most often passed it off as a particularly bad incident with a zoroark, or something else.

never had he gotten to the point he was able to remember a twin brother of all things.

in the calculated equation he had perfected over the past three centuries, it was like having a wrench thrown at the head. a completely unpredictable variable, something not accounted for in any manner.

giratina’s power was vast, but it could not prevent everything.

in.. whatever he had done, rather than eliminating the distortions entirely, it only redirected their focus on the other brother.

which meant his visit would have to last a bit longer, if he were to come even a fraction closer to what was planned to be in his grasp.

eliminate the chance of fallers, which would eliminate his past self’s chance of failure.

akari would not fall for another two years. he had a set time to ensure the two brothers would stay together in the present, before making off back to hisui.

or sinnoh. whatever they called it these days.

humming quietly, he untucked a pendant from his jacket, holding a delicate feather, one that's colors cascaded from a brilliant green to the palest of yellows.

a token from cresselia.

one did not simply ‘catch’ a legendary; you either befriended them enough they willingly stuck by your side,

or you would be granted a sliver of power, in the form of such a token.

cresselia dealt in the realm of dreams.

to prevent the, as he would say it, “unexpected diversion of one’s train of thought,” from the universe quite literally tearing itself and putting it back together for his sake, that was where volo needed to go.

memories and dreams were often intertwined. violently ripping them down the center would only cause an issue if not dealt with accordingly.

ones the two halves diverged, they were not to meet. ever again.

same stem of existence or not, the ingo then and ingo now were to, under any circumstances, never learn of each other's existence.

less strain on the timeline, that way.

.. then and now, he was still a peculiar man. both iterations he never truly understood.

the first time, they were strangers, outsiders in a sense of solitude. scarcely spoke, but the words he shared were always worth a listen, despite the metaphors he never got.

centuries later, they were strangers once again.

volo met ingo at what one could call a low- only a fraction of what had once been whole.

ingo would never learn to know volo in full, past or present. he simply would not let him.

perhaps, when this world is recreated in his image, he would, like the stubborn man he was, return once again, and they would be able to truly speak like peers.

but that was another fruitless hope.

no point in dawdling.

holy shit i finally finished this fic

felt nice to write something just to. write

not a long chaptered fic or series, just smth to get the brainworms out

or read below if you’d like !

word count — 1,410

summary —

ingo is home.

after all this time, he is home.

and yet, he cannot seem to settle.

( after a week of being back in unova, ingo takes a walk to clear his head. )

“in quantum mechanics, schrödinger's cat is a thought experiment, sometimes described as a paradox, of quantum superposition. in the thought experiment, a hypothetical cat may be considered simultaneously both alive and dead, while it is unobserved in a closed box, as a result of its fate being linked to a random event that may or may not occur.”

nimbasa winters were never too chilly. while snow did coat the ground clean over in powdery sheets of white, the towering buildings were often enough to keep the wind from cutting through everything like a frigid knife. with the evening sun casting soft rays of pinks and peach through the gaps of steel lined skyscrapers, a certain recently returned subway boss found it appropriate timing for a walk.

. . in the last week, being back home, everything felt like an emotional blur, parts of his mind still foggy beyond recognition. a tide, tugging him by the ankles and threatening to knock him over, only to drown him in the wallowing feelings of his own heart.

but he stood resolute, anyway. that’s why he decided he needed some space, just for a little bit.

he had been practically housebound since his return; doctors, historians, worried family and friends. it was overwhelming, to his still recovering head.

ingo almost winced aloud at emmet’s strained expression when he had mentioned his request for some alone time, as if his brother was already paranoid he would disappear once again. and he had full right to be.

but there was too much lying heavy on his chest, things his brother could not fix, no matter how hard he tried, and he needed out.

just for an hour at best, he would be alright. the younger brother’s expression only crinkled further in worry at how quiet and subdued his voice came out, tinges of a sinnohan accent bleeding into each word.

it was his brother, sure, but he just sounded so . . unfamiliar.

time was a funny thing.

to emmet, he had been gone a few months at best.

to ingo?

years had blurred past, in hisui, and emmet hated to recognize his brother was trodding along on a track he could not follow, as much as he wanted to.

and so he sighs, buries down all his fussing, and asks if he would be at least willing to bring eelektross with him. something about him needing a walk.

( emmet did frequently take his pokemon outside on off days, but ingo could tell by his face- that careworn smile, practically etched in, that worry was practically chewing him from the inside out, and that doing this for him would ease his worries even to the smallest amount. )

he says “ no, ” flatly, walking out the door. he doesn’t come back.

he quietly complies, making a soft clicking noise with his tongue to beckon the eel like beast, currently sprawled in it’s seven feet of glory across the sofa, over.

he practically clicks back, sauntering over and curling himself over ingo’s shoulder as if he were a pirate’s chatot.

emmet watches the interaction for a few moments, an eyebrow raised.

“ i was not aware you spoke pokemon. ”

“ not really. . just a bit of an old trick that usually works. ”

hours of listening to the persistent chattering of sneasel kits had certainly let him pick up a few things, but he wouldn’t say he understood it. not fluently, at least. a brief understanding of what growls and warbles meant “food,” and which ones meant “hi,” but that was all.

after a few moments of shared, awkward silence, he reaches for the doorknob, a soft “ bye. ” leaving his mouth before the door shuts behind him.

almost instantly, the ground splits beneath him in yet another wormhole. he feels the fluffy snow against his back. he’s there again.

the soft snow crunches underfoot. chandelure saunters ahead of him with a ghostly chime of enthusiasm, practically beaming with a marbled purple-blue blaze illuminating the snow beneath her. eelektross stays curled around his neck, almost in a guard dog like fashion.

the weight is too heavy. the eel practically crushes his windpipe, and he collapses on his own doorstep.

he wasn’t really sure where he wanted to go. slowly trudging forward with a soft hum, he seemed to study the way he walked; how softly each footstep fell, how he had yet to fully correct that awful posture of his, now.

he felt like parts of him were missing.

chipped away fragments, that had yet to return.

he shatters like a piece of glass, collapsing to the ground with a cry. those missing pieces were vital, after all.

clearing his throat and fixing his posture upright, he begins to walk in an attempt at a confident stride. gradually, he falls into a steady rhythm; right foot, left foot. right foot, left foot.

noisy prey. an alpha zoroark easily takes advantage of the man’s loud footsteps, lunging for the throat.

. . walking like this in the middle of the highlands was a one way ticket to either being mauled, falling off a cliff, or simply being called a fool.

but this wasn’t the highlands.

or the icelands.

or hisui.

he was safe, to trod on as confidently as he liked.

and this felt right, in some way, so he continued to do so as he made his way down the street.

both pokemon in tow seemed to cheer him on; eelektross’ cheerful crackling practically right in his ear, chandelure emitting a chorus of enthusiastic hums and cries, bright flames flickering in the gradually dimming daylight.

despite their encouragement, as if coaxing on a baby to walk for the first time, a sense of nervousness seemed to crawl up his shoulder.

this was home, what he had been yearning for all this time, and yet it felt . .

noisy.

overwhelming.

it had been no more than a few minutes and he already found himself falling still, staring at his shoes and standing like a trembling stantler deerling on the snow laden sidewalk.

he turns around right back home. it’s too much. would emmet be disappointed in him for chickening out?

he allows himself the pause, despite the deep set frustration beginning to stir.

this was what he had been missing all this time! this was what he wanted back!

so why

why in arceus’ name was this so difficult?

as if sensing his brewing irritation, chandelure attempts to worm her way under one arm, as if demanding to be held.

( she personally could care less at this moment. it was more about distracting the silver haired man from whatever was plaguing him, that of which turned his soul so bitter. )

surprised, at first, ingo stifles a snort under his breath.

shifting his arms ever so slightly, he finds a more comfortable posture; eelektross still half curled around his shoulders, and chandelure now gently nestled in his grasp. swirls of purple and blue spectral flames curl around his arms as if to comfort, slowly burning their ways through flesh and bone the tension and worry bubbling beneath his skin.

temporarily, for now, but it was the best she could do.

and with that, he continued to walk.

a horrible idea. had hisui taught him nothing?

tentatively; cautiously, even, but slowly gaining back his stride.

( when ingo later returned home and accounted his little journey, which he considered quite eventful, emmet suggested chandelure receive some support training if the bustling city had begun to make him anxious since his return. )

( he responded that he’d put it on the backburner of his head. )

( while emmet usually groaned and swatted at him for adopting elesa’s awful puns, he just grinned. )

( he was just happy ingo was home. )

( he never made it home. what are you talking about? )

( of course he did. )

( the theory of schrödinger’s cat only lasted as long as the box was closed. )

but this box was open.

and ingo treyne is missing

dead

gone

never to return home

trapped in the distortion world

not real at all

now a zorua

in alola enjoying a nice vacation

to be executed at noon

me

you

really feeling like he could go for an ice cream right now, actually

to be contained at once

a threat to the fabric of time and space

a loser

a god

nothing

everything

alive.

he is alive.

and when he comes home, he does not mind being met with a tight embrace in the doorway from his brother.

FUCK I NEVER POSTED IT HERE but i made a trainwreck fic .. yipeee