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Chirae’s breath turned to a white cloud in the frigid air, but as he leaned into the black dragon at his side, he hardly felt the cold.
The two sat in the mountains around Icirrus City, looking into the sunrise. He’d have to move soon - they were low on food.
“Why did you stay with me, Zekrom?”
The dragon merely thrummed with electricity and didn’t answer. They never had, not since the night they reformed from the dark stone in a surge of power right before his eyes. He’d had to blink away blue streaks for weeks after.
The young man ran a hand down the beast’s smooth side. He had been surprised when he’d first touched it - expecting the legendary to be rough or scaly like he’d heard most dragons were.
He’d still pulled his hand back, hardly able to believe he could touch them, that he was allowed.
But Zekrom had been the one to take his hand (so gently, despite the powerful claws) and put it on them. He’d snatched it back at first, terrified, worrying he’d get shocked - but no, they just wanted to be touched.
He’d wondered, then, how long they had been alone as the dark stone. Unable to feel, to experience the world at all.
“Did you come out just because you were tired of being away? To make sure N and Reshiram didn’t screw up the region you helped make?”
All the creature did was bonk his head lightly with their muzzle.
He stared into the distant red disk of the sun, exhaling hard again. Even months later, words get caught in his throat when he thinks of that night.
“I didn’t help Unova because I was pursuing some great ideal. Shit, I never wanted to be there - it should’ve been Cheran, he always loved that crap. No one ever asked me what I thought.”
Chirae kicked a stone across the rocky path. It tumbled and rolled out of sight.
“I wanted to stick it to Plasma. That was it. I felt a little bad for N, but everyone just acted like I had to fight him, that that was the only way. Like hell it was.”
Zekrom blinked their red eyes at him. He hated them a little for their inscrutability - couldn’t other legendaries speak with their minds? If Zekrom had chosen him, why didn’t they respond?
He hugged them again anyway. They were still the only one who could understand. Even his mom didn’t get it, couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to go back to school yet, or why he didn’t talk to his childhood friends anymore.
She thought he needed help. Bullshit. He needed the world to actually acknowledge what had happened at plasma’s castle and actually try to make sure it didn’t happen again. What if N changed his mind? What if Zekrom turned into the stone again? Nothing was certain. Nothing was safe.
When he’d tried sleeping in his own bed, it had felt foreign. He couldn’t rest.
So he’d left Nuvema again, a note on his mom’s chair. A short apology, no explanation.
He couldn’t give her what he didn’t have.
But he had Zekrom. He had the sunrise, slowly climbing into the sky and turning the snowy mountains a gleaming orange.
“I guess it matters that we all still have our Pokémon, yeah? Even if some people don’t deserve theirs. Maybe that should be what we do next. Do what Plasma said they were doing, actually get it right.”
The dragon put their arm around him, and for now, that was all the answer Chirae needed.