Chapter Text
A terrible storm is going to whip through the center of Hisui. It starts late in the evening, strong winds blowing down from Mount Coronet. With the winds come dark, rumbling clouds, and when they’re distant like that, hanging overhead and looming closer, Ingo almost finds the sound familiar.
Almost. It’s not quite right, not exactly that which he’s remembering.
Ingo has enough sense left in his empty head to know that he should, probably, prepare in some way. There have been more than enough storms in the Coronet Highlands to prepare him since he became a warden, but he can’t help but feel like this one is going to be the worst of them all. Maybe there’s dread hanging in the air. Maybe it’s just intuition.
For a moment, Ingo considers calling Lady Sneasler to check in on her before the worst of it hits. After all, what kind of warden would he be if he left her to brave such a terrible storm without at least consulting with her first?
But he thinks better of it. Lady Sneasler must already be aware of what’s to come. She is a Noble Pokémon, a title one does not come upon by chance. Besides, she must have her claws full dealing with her kits, the two little troublemakers in particular. Just thinking about the headaches they must be giving their mother almost causes one to twinge in Ingo’s own head.
The twin Sneasels had been a surprise, but a welcome one. Lady Sneasler’s other kits were fully grown by the time they came around; a few already evolving into Sneaslers themselves. What was even more of a surprise, however, was the black and red Sneasel that didn’t look like any Sneasel Ingo had seen.
At least, none that he’d seen in Hisui. Something about it was familiar.
Of course, he scooped up the little Sneasel and departed for Jubilife Village not long after to have Professor Laventon look at it, worried that the poor thing might be sick or not long for this world. Ingo held the small kit in his arms, while its overexcited sibling ran underfoot at every opportunity it got. Lady Sneasler also followed, which was itself a shock, hovering over Ingo and her kits as though he were trying to make off with them.
Once Professor Laventon had a look at the little Sneasel, though, he proclaimed that there was nothing wrong with him. Sneasels just looked different in Hisui than they did elsewhere, he explained, and it wasn’t strange for Hisuian Pokémon to bear offspring that lacked their distinctive features. Ingo would, however, have to be mindful of its type differences, since there were a few Pokémon in the Highlands that could make quick work of an Ice type.
Both of the twin Sneasels—boys, as Ingo found out—were declared healthy, and Captain Cyllene told him in no uncertain terms that he should leave and stop interrupting Professor Laventon’s research. Since both seemed to be chugging along fine, Ingo decided to listen.
The twins, though? They love to give their mother the runaround, and Ingo gets roped in by extension. The white one has a habit of running off when his mother and brother aren’t looking, not out of a desire to escape, but because something caught his eye. And then, when the black one notices his brother is gone, he shrieks so loudly that Ingo bets people can hear it all the way in Jubilife Village.
And that’s when they’re not working together. When the twins are actively collaborating is when the real terror begins. Something will go missing from the quarters that the Pearl Clan to lovingly provided for Ingo, and then a couple hours later he’ll find the two of them passing it between themselves, taking turns inspecting and chewing it. They usually take his shoes.
Very annoying. Verrrrrrry annoying, a voice in the back of Ingo’s head says.
When the time comes, Ingo hopes that neither of them ends up inheriting their mother’s title.
For now, though, Ingo decides to leave the twins to Lady Sneasler. If either one of them has more experience wrangling young Sneasels, it’s most certainly her. In that case, Ingo better stay out of her way.
In the meantime, Ingo has a storm to get ready for. The clouds look as ominous as ever, perhaps even more so. He can only imagine the frenzy they’ll stir once they arrive at his station, the hours they’ll keep him awake tonight.
Tomorrow, he thinks, is not going to be a fun day.
⇓⇛⇚⇓
When Emmet wakes up, his first thought is ‘Did it work?’
Did what work?
Where is he?
Emmet sits up, hands pressing into the soft sand beneath him. He’s on a beach, he realizes, the endless ocean spreading out in front of him. Calm waves lap at the shore, a serene kind of peace that is rare in a bustling city like Nimbasa.
He’s not in Nimbasa. That much is obvious.
His whole head feels a bit swirly, like how he gets when he stares at his Xtransceiver too long on the train. Only it’s way worse, and he isn’t nauseous in the slightest. When Emmet breathes, he gasps for air and his lungs feel weak, as though he were crying. He does that a lot lately.
“Look, see! There he is!”
Behind Emmet, a small child drags a young woman in pink towards the beach, emphatically pointing straight at him. The pair are trailed by a man in blue, who looks more amused than his counterpart. Her eyes widen when she sees Emmet, which is, in all honesty, fair. It’s not everyday some stranger washes up like this, even if Emmet’s pretty sure he didn’t come from the water.
“Thank you for telling me,” the woman kneels in front of the child. “You should get back to the village, though. Prelude Beach is safe, but you really shouldn’t be wandering too far from home.”
The kid nods and darts off without another word, back the way the trio came.
“That’s a nice way to say ‘Don’t tell the Commander you did this,’” the man smirks.
“You’re just as complicit as I am,” she retorts automatically. “You don’t want word going around that the Clan leaders are encouraging the Jubilife kids to jump headfirst into danger, do you?”
That sounds familiar. Where has Emmet heard of Jubilife before?
The man shrugs. “You’re right.” He turns, suddenly eying Emmet up and down. “So what’s happening with him?”
“For starters…” The woman steps closer. She pushes her face right in front of Emmet’s, her big blue eyes seemingly staring right into his soul. He reflexively backs away, scooting back from her as his signature smile morphs more into a grimace.
His reaction only seems to solidify whatever thought the woman is having. “This isn’t my warden,” she announces.
“I am Emmet,” Emmet says, because it’s really all he can offer at this moment.
“See, his name is Emmet,” the woman echoes. “I’ve never met anyone named Emmet before.”
“Wh- you…” the man sputters. “How can this not be your warden?! Look at him!” He gestures to the man sitting on the beach.
The woman offers Emmet a hand, and not one to turn down another’s kindness, he accepts her assistance in standing. His subway uniform is coated with sand, a sight he’s not too happy to see.
“He looks nothing like him,” the woman continues. “First of all, Ingo wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something like that.”
Emmet’s heart suddenly stops.
“Wait. Did you say-?” he starts.
“What do you mean something like that?” the man squishes his own cheeks in annoyance. “They’re literally wearing the same outfit! It’s identical!”
“Well look at his face, then!” the woman pokes Emmet’s cheek. “Have you ever seen Ingo smile like this?”
The man taps his chin. “That’s a fair point. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such… exuberance from your Warden of the Highlands, before”. The man pauses, giving Emmet one of the most wary looks he’s seen in his life. “But if you’re not from the Pearl Clan, then who are you exactly?”
“I am Emmet,” Emmet repeats again. “I am a Subway Boss. And I’m looking for my brother.”
“Oh!” the woman perks up. “You’re the one who looks like him!”
“Yes?” Emmet replies, clearly confused because he thought that was obvious.
“No, he’s mentioned you before!” she explains, as if that offers any additional clarity. She excitedly grabs Emmet’s hands. “We have to get you to Ingo right away! I always knew that the spaces would lessen, but still-!”
“Irida…” the man says, the corners of his mouth twisted up into a smile as he tries to contain his laughter.
Realizing that she’s both lost her composure and bewildered Emmet, Irida backs away and clasps her hands together. “Ah, my apologies. I am Irida, the leader of the Pearl Clan. And this is Adaman, the leader of the Diamond Clan.”
“Right,” Emmet brushes right past that. “I need to find Ingo. Please.”
“Of course,” Irida smiles. “He should be in the Coronet Highlands. I was planning on heading out that way myself after I visited the shops, so I can guide you on your journey through the vast expanses of Hisui.”
Hisui. So that’s where Emmet is. Considering he’s never heard the name before, it explains literally nothing. But that confusion is nothing, because mostly, his head is racing down the tracks with excitement. It’s Ingo, finally! This woman can lead him to his brother, after all this time! He’s here, he’s so close…
Emmet nods as if he understands. “That seems like the best track to take.”
“Well, since you’re the one going to the Highlands, now…” Adaman sheepishly pulls some cash out of his pockets. “It’d be a better use of time if you made the delivery for Melli on my behalf. After all, the Crimson Mirelands are in quite the state after last night.”
Irida winces at the thought, and Emmet can practically see her willing the strength to take on this request. “Fine,” she says, swiping his allowance from him. “But if he says anything, I’m leaving.”
Adaman sighs, years of frustration coming out with his breath. “Don’t let him get to you.” He nods to their new companion. “It was nice to make your acquaintance, Emmet. If you have the time for it, bring your brother to the Diamond Settlement. He’s been avoiding me since the incident with Lord Electrode.”
Emmet watches in confusion as Adaman departs. None of this made any sense. Nevermind his sudden appearance in a land he’s never heard of before, how in the name of wind, thunder, and land does an Electrode become the lord of anything? And why was it so terrible that Ingo has refused to see this man since?!
“What have I missed?” he wonders aloud.
“Oh. That’s a question,” Irida says, and while Emmet isn’t usually the best with words, even he can tell that her words are pulling a bit more cargo than one would expect.
⇓⇛⇚⇓
Ingo did not sleep well, and the storm certainly didn’t help. When he closed his eyes, he would see images he couldn’t understand. His hand in a dark space, illuminated by a purple light. His old coat, pristine, hung up next to its pair.
The color white. A name on the tip of his tongue.
“I like winning more than anything else.”
And then, thunder would shake him from his fitful sleep, loud and booming. He shoved his pillow over his head, trying his best to scrape together as much rest as he could.
The morning brings stillness and calm, but Ingo’s day has only just begun. His Noble pushes his door open before he has a chance to finish getting dressed, and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out what the issue is.
Lady Sneasler appears to be missing her two passengers.
He finds the first of the twin Sneasels hiding in a bush near the Wayward Wood. When he pushes the branches aside to reveal the scared little Sneasel, he backs away from him almost instinctively. However, when he recognizes his Warden, he quickly leaps into his lap, whimpering and clutching his jacket tightly.
Ingo sighs, running his hand through its white fur. “There, there, little one. The storm has passed us by. You’re safe now, and your mother is looking for you.”
At the mention of Lady Sneasler, the Sneasel just buries his face in Ingo’s uniform. Ingo clenches his teeth together. She isn’t that bad, not if you don’t give her cause for concern. But, well, Ingo isn’t sure the twins have gone a day of their lives without worrying their poor mother.
“We need to get you home.” He shifts the Sneasel’s weight into his arms, carrying it as he stands. “Both of you. Speaking of which, where did your brother end up? Is he nearby?”
Panicked, the Sneasel suddenly wiggles his way out of Ingo’s grasp. He’s used to the whims of young Sneasels, but he’s never seen such urgency from one so young. He frantically chirps and calls as he circles the Warden, looking every which way. When he receives no response, no echo from afar, he whines and clings at Ingo’s boot.
Aside from the typical Gravelers and Skuntanks milling about, there’s no sign of the dark Sneasel. It doesn’t sit right in Ingo’s mind. They’re a pair, after all. Black and white. How can one exist without the other?
Without even realizing he’s doing it, Ingo instinctively scoops up the little Sneasel, cradling him in his arms. Though he holds him close, his eyes stare unfocused into the distance, looking for something he can’t see. There’s a word he’s thinking of, a word he wants to say. A half-formed instinct of comfort, but he’s missing the final step. It’s dangling on a string, just out of reach, but it’s there. His mind is racing, faster than a… than a…
Ingo blinks.
A what?
He rubs his forehead, frustrated. He can’t afford to get lost right now, he has to focus.
“All aboard, little one,” he finally says, lifting the Sneasel up slightly so he can look into his eyes. “Next stop, home.”
Ingo isn’t sure what home means anymore.