Chapter Text
It had to be the worst storm Ula’ula has seen in a dog’s age.
Torrential winds howl a deafening song that whips your hair into a frenzy as empty eyes reflect the stormy horizon encompassing what had to have been all of Alola. Dark, heavy clouds obscure the blue sky you’d grown accustomed to as its rain pelts the ground and your surroundings, leaving everything cold in its wake.
Well, you sure picked an awful day to end your life, huh?
And yet so terribly fitting.
It’s a morbid thought that crosses your mind briefly, staring out at the cresting waves just below as the perpetual rain of Route 17 exacerbated by the blustery storm douses you, leaving you as heavy as your heart felt.
Holding in a breath, you hoist yourself up to the cold, metal railing separating passersby from an inevitable tumble down the steep, slippery slope. With legs swinging over one by one, your feet manage to find purchase on the precariously muddied perch, and yet despite the assured footing, your fingers have yet to relinquish their deathly grip on the bar now behind you. The breath trapped in your throat finally escapes before another is quickly sucked up in its place — if you weren’t careful, all it would take is one wrong move to send you tumbling into the unforgiving depths of the ocean-
Oh, yeah. That was the point.
A quick glance over your shoulder to the empty road assuages your initial fears of getting caught here. No one in their right mind would try to weather this storm, nor would they dare (or bother) getting this close to Po Town with Team Skull lurking about. Just the prospect of crossing paths with the misguided youths of Alola was often more trouble than it was worth, a fact that works out in your favor, thankfully. With no chance of anyone finding you before your plans could come to fruition, there would be no chance of anyone trying to convince you otherwise.
No, you couldn’t stop now, couldn’t afford to. It took everything in you to leave that house, and you knew that if you were to go back, you would never get this chance again.
It was better this way.
It was better this way.
It was better this way.
The storm brews louder and the waves of the ocean lap higher and higher up the cliff face, angrier, as if Mother Nature herself was beckoning all who dared to weather her tempest. The promise of her warm icy embrace is daunting, absolutely terrifying, yet overshadowed by the alluring call of your salvation so close at hand. That’s it, just one more step.
Why is it so hard to pull away from your last lifeline?
The tremble in your hands do not abate once you manage to pry your grip away from the metal railing, now standing alone to face the raging ocean. It was here, how many times would you have to tell yourself that? Your freedom lies here, just beyond your reach! And all you have to do is-
Take…
The…
Leap!
A violent shudder courses through you, shaking you to your core. Unconsciously gripping the drenched material of your shirt, you attempt to steady the hammering of your heart against the fist that lay across it.
Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared! You silently plead with yourself, finding the resolve that carried you there slowly beginning to slip through the cracks of your carefully crafted facade.
Strike that. Slowly was a gross understatement as the telltale sting of tears burns your eyes, lost in the futility of the rain.
It isn’t fair.
It isn’t fair.
It isn’t fair!
A scream is loosed from your throat, long and painful, a roar of defiance that you know no one can hear above the storm. “Why?” you wail, knowing no one will answer. “Why, why, why?!”
You lament over a fate so cruel — of the powers that cursed you to live a life without freedom or choice. It’s laughable, how whatever it was just expected you to be fine with it. Like you wouldn’t chase any microscopic form of liberation, even if it meant choosing to once again give your life away.
The woeful ache in your chest abades suddenly, clarity washing away the murkiness clouding your mind. That’s right, this was the only way. That’s what you said when you convinced yourself to leave, and that’s all that mattered now. This would be your choice, perhaps your only choice, and you refused to back down now.
“I’m not going back,” you whisper, voice lost to the storm, clenching your fists white-knuckle tight. And with a final, hopeful prayer to the guardian deities you steel your convictions and take a deep, steadying breath. With the remainder of your fleeting strength you jump, the feather-light feeling of falling tickling your chest as your eyes flutter shut, just as the sound of the crashing waves drowns out in the frigid darkness.