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It was difficult being viewed as an outsider.
Since the day you arrived at Jubilife, there has been nothing but whispers about you, your strange attire, and the strange way you spoke. It was like you traveled back in time, hell, that probably was the easiest way to explain it. You initially thought their mannerisms were odd, too, even though you couldn't remember anything before you arrived. After lots of survey work, you finally believed you could be more than an honorary member of the Galaxy Survey Corps.
Even after all you've been through, all of the Pokemon you collected, (all of the strange glowing wisps you've gathered?) and all of the frenzied Pokemon you tamed, there still were some people who couldn't trust you one bit. Laventon and Rei told you to ignore the small minority, but it just didn't sit right with you.
That minority quickly shifted to a majority the morning the sky morphed into a hideous red, its bloody hues bleeding into a venomous green. The village was in a complete panic, many eyeing you with horror as they madly dashed about like their lives depended on it.
They thought you were a monster.
You had overstayed your welcome.
Without a moment of hesitation and with frustrated, miserable tears threatening to fall, you rushed back into your room to pack your belongings. You didn't own much, just a small tent, medical supplies, pokeballs and such. They were given to you by the professor, intended to be used only when your survey work went on for multiple days. Tucking them all away neatly in your satchel as you were taught, you threw on your shoes, blew out the lights and said your final goodbyes to your cozy living space.
Heading to the general store, you kindly (and softly) asked Choy for rations of food, which he reluctantly sold to you for double the original price. Donning a sorrowful smile, you accepted his overpriced goods and continued your journey into the unknown.
You spotted Rei as you were heading for the gate, the poor boy scampering about, trying to calm some of the younger children and even a few village elders. You paused, only for a moment, the vivid, wonderful memories of last night returning to your mind. Freshly-baked potato mochi with friends, celebrating, laughing. That would likely never happen again, you thought, your stomach turning sour with grief.
Rei did a double-take when your eyes met, and he shouted your name when you tried to scurry off unnoticed. His hand roughly caught your shoulder, spinning you around to face him. He seemed tired, the bags below his eyes too dark for someone as bright and cheery as him. "(Y/N)! Where-... What are you doing?" Rei questioned, exasperated from all of the commotion.
"I have to leave." You stated, attempting to keep your voice steady. You knew this was your fault. Rei can't see you cry, Rei can't see how scared you are.
"Why?! We don't even know what's happening!" He shouted, making the nearby panicking civilians stop in their tracks to listen in. Tears pricked his eyes, making your heart ache. This must be difficult on him, but you had to do this.
"Rei." You began calmly, hatching a plan in your mind. "I'm going to leave, find a way to fix this, and when I do, I'll return."
Yeah, right. That was the most hopeful plan you've ever had, practically impossible! Rei, however, seemed to relax just a tad, looking at you with the most hopeless of eyes.
"Ok." He nodded, sniffling. Without warning, he flung himself onto you, clutching you like you were his beloved teddy bear during a thunderstorm. "I trust you, (Y/N). Just, please let me or Laventon know if you need any help. It's dangerous out there."
You sighed as you held him close, reassuring him that you're capable and will be back in no time. You pushed back his cap to give him a soft, comforting kiss on the forehead, like a mother wishing their child a good day at school. With that, and a soft smile, Rei returned to aiding the villagers, who all stared at you with their penetrating gazes.
It was like you were an alien, a monster; something to be feared, but also intriguing. You hated this feeling, the feeling of being watched and judged just for existing. Eager to leave and evade the village's glares, you quickly strode to the gate and out into the wide world of Hisui.
-
Yes, you are a capable Survey Corps member. Not today, apparently.
Although you told Rei you were trying to fix this, the real thing you wanted was to escape. This wasn't fun anymore. It was great having the commander praise you for your efforts, Cyllene awarding you your ninth badge in the Survey Corps. But now it became serious, you knew they blamed you for this. People could seriously be hurt if this wasn't fixed. Your fight or flight sense, however, told you that you weren't the one that was going to do the fixing.
The real purpose of your quest was to find Ingo. Why him? Because he, like you, fell out of the sky. He's probably feeling the same way you are right now, lost, scared, maybe even angry. He's the only person that would understand you.
Venturing to Coronet Highlands was perilous without the Security Corps guiding you, leaving you battered and beaten just on arrival to the Highlands.
Although not technically frenzied, the Pokemon you encountered seemed frightened, just like you, and lashed out in fear. You loved your Pokemon, but even when they fought their hardest, they couldn't protect you from a concealed Sneasel lashing at the back of your thigh. They also couldn't predict that an alpha Golbat's gust is a lot stronger than it seems, it's attack going straight past your Pokemon and nailing you, driving you down a steep cliff and shattering your kneecap. Luckily Sneasler was able to recover you, bringing you back to the path after the coast was clear.
A particularly nasty group of Luxio cornered you and your team while you were making a makeshift crutch for your (most likely) broken leg, rearing up and ready to attack. Commanding them to attack from a patch of tall grass, you fought off most of the lion-like pokemon, breathing a sigh of relief when the last one fell to the ground.
A sharp pain in your right shoulder cuts your small victory short, a Pokemon sinking its teeth into your soft flesh and sending a jolt of electricity through your muscles. The last thing you saw before fading into an uncomfortable slumber was your Sneasler looming over you, crying out as it angrily slashed your attacker.
-
You didn't tell your Pokemon where you were headed. Why would you? You told them you needed to see someone in the highlands, but you never truly knew if they understood your language, so that was the extent of their knowledge. It was just nice to talk to something when out in the wild to keep you sane. Even if they didn't fully comprehend your words, they still understood your emotions.
So, when you fell unconscious, they naturally panicked. Usually Braviary would fly to the nearest Galaxy Patroller to get help, (He did try to carry you once; it didn't end well) but they knew you didn't want the Galaxy team's help. So what now?
Although they didn't fully understand each other, Sneasler took control of the situation, being only mildly damaged compared to everyone else. Urging the others back into their pokeballs, which didn't take much persuasion, Sneasler readied the woven basket she used to carry you up mountains. Collecting your belongings, she carefully put the items into the basket, silently praying that she didn't damage anything important.
Pulling the basket to your side, Sneasler gently picked up your form, making sure not to scratch you with her lithe claws. A trail of blood flowed from the wound caused by that Luxio's bite, startling her so much that she had to look away. She didn't know how to fix this and it scared the normally-cool pokemon beyond her comprehension. Softly placing you in the durable basket, Sneasler donned you on her back and began her journey to the only person that could help.
-
Ingo wasn't really expecting what today would bring. Living in the Highlands had its cons, like the lack of fertile soil, requiring Ingo to travel to Jubilife for food supplies.
Even though the sky changed, he assumed Jubilife hadn't changed. He was horribly wrong, arriving on schedule at the village to find it barricaded closed. Perplexed, he knocked on the large wooden door. A small wooded slit moved to reveal the eyes of one of the Galaxy guards.
"I'm sorry, Kamado commanded that no outsiders are allowed in the village." He explained formally, although Ingo could hear the exhaustion and fear in his voice. Something was horribly wrong.
"An outsider?!" A young voice piped up from behind the door, the guard's eyes being ripped from the slit and replaced with the eyes of a cheerful young boy. His bright eyes darkened only a tad when he saw Ingo, but he still creaked open the large door regardless.
"Hey, Ingo." Rei began dismally, his hands unusually fidgety. "I-I-I'm sorry. Kamado said no outsiders, so you and (Y/N) can't come in."
Him and (Y/N)..?
"Why-" Ingo began, only for realization to hit him like a freight train. They were the only "outsiders".
Seeing the realization on his face, Rei could only gaze somberly at his shoes. "I'm sorry." He repeated slightly above a whisper, his voice desperate like he was being teared at the seams. "I wish everyone believed me. I tried telling them that (Y/N) didn't cause this! I tried!"
"I know," Ingo began, hushing Rei's desperate explanation. "It's not your fault. I don't even know what this is," Ingo gestured to the sky, just now realizing how putrid it was. He knew it was horrid, but that view would strike fear into the heart of anyone; at this point it only mildly shook him. I mean, the guy fell through a floating portal in the sky, the world morphing into something disgusting was standard protocol at this point.
Nevertheless, his gaze went back to the frightened young boy as he continued. "But it wasn't caused by you, (Y/N), anyone."
Tears finally fell from Rei's dark eyes as he slammed himself into Ingo's torso, nuzzing himself deep into the man's chest as he sobbed. Ingo wasn't great at soothing people, he knew that, but the least he could do was hold the boy in his embrace as he wept.
Laventon, hearing all the commotion, peeked his head out from behind the door cautiously. Once he spotted Ingo, he lowered his defenses, stepping outside the confines of Jubilife with a timid smile. "My apologies, Ingo. I'm afraid Kamado's policy won't allow you inside."
Ingo still held Rei close, rubbing soothing circles into his back as the boy clutched onto him. "I understand, Laventon. Protocol is protocol."
This felt oddly familiar, and for a brief second Ingo remembered something regarding the man that looked like him, how Ingo would calm him down just like how he was soothing Rei. The thought came and went, and became just another thing he'd have to sort out in his mind.
"Even though you can't come in," Laventon started, ripping Ingo from his thoughts. "I can help get you food while this commotion goes on."
Thanking Laventon and taking him up on his offer, Ingo successfully got what he came here for: food. Rei had finally calmed down, still rubbing his swollen red eyes. "Can-," He hiccuped. "Can you check on (Y/N) for me if you see them? They said they were going to fix all of this, but I'm st-still worried."
Fix all of this? Ingo felt a burst of anxiety in his chest, fretting for (Y/N)'s safety. "I'll be sure to keep an eye out." He reassured the boy, but he couldn't deny his worry. It's not safe to travel alone.
Saying his goodbyes, Ingo began the trek on the well-worn paths to his home in Coronet Highlands. Clutching his satchel, he didn't even notice that he was walking faster than usual. He didn't notice the way the trees seemed to glare at him, wishing he wasn't here, wishing he wasn't a failure. He didn't notice the sun, although barely visible in the putrid sky, setting and leaving the world cast in a scarlet hue. All Ingo could think about was (Y/N)'s wellbeing.
-
You could imagine Ingo's surprise when, after arriving home at the dead of night, supplies clutched through white-knuckled fists, he found Sneasler frantically running around in search of something. Upon his approach, Sneasler practically screamed with joy, rushing to Ingo's side so fast he almost thought he would be killed. Sneasler attempted to explain what was going on hurriedly, but after seeing Ingo's appalled expression, she gave up and decided visuals would be better.
Carefully removing the woven basket from her back, Ingo couldn't help but notice one area was dyed a deep red, like something was left there and was spilling. Removing the top, Ingo couldn't suppress his shock, his fear.
Inside lay (Y/N), their arms folded neatly, their breathing shallow and a nasty cut oozing from their back. A makeshift cast was begun on their right leg, but was now a tangled mess caked with dry blood. Their belongings were still in the basket, but Ingo paid them no mind and he swooped (Y/N) up, hurriedly rushing inside his home and searching for his emergency supplies.
-
Cold.
Ow, more cold.
…Ouch! That stung!
You lazily peeked through your eyelids, but after feeling another cool object hit a sensitive part on your ankle, you wish you would've just stayed unconscious. Stiff pain coursed through your body, reminding you of the incident you had gotten yourself into. You didn't want to wake up. You wanted to stay asleep and never wake up.
You hissed when the cold cloth traveled up from your ankle to the nasty gash that wild Sneasel gave you, alerting and frightening whoever you were with.
"Sorry." He mumbled, and without looking you knew immediately who it was. Ingo.
"Ingo..?" You groaned, trying to get a grip on where you were. All movement was pain. Everything hurt, even speaking made your throat coarse like sandpaper.
"Shh, it's okay." He soothed, his well-worn hand squeezing yours as he urged you to stay put. Not like you wanted to move anyways.
Your eyes fluttered to life, looking down to find Ingo weakly smiling up at you from the floor; washcloth in hand and bucket of clean water beside him.
It didn't take long for you to realize you were in his home, although you were only here a few times. It was small, just about the size of your living space (well, what used to be your living space) and felt even smaller due to his appliances.
To your left you could see his wood-burning stove, upon it being two metal pots, their contents letting out faint wisps of steam. Next to that were stone counters and a window, the graceful falling of snowflakes and dreary sky reminding you of your "adventure". Eager to mentally change the subject, you focused on the fireplace, its soft crackles soothing to your mind and allowing you to relax. The entire house was illuminated by metal lanterns, their dancing light making the home feel more rustic, if that was even possible. Ingo did have one walled off room, presumably his bedroom, but the door was only cracked open and the interior wasn't visible.
Focusing on the area nearby, you craned your neck back to find a small kitchen table, the chair you sat in matching the one neatly tucked below the tabletop.
"What?" Ingo questioned, turning your attention back to him.
"O-Oh! Nothing," You stumbled, heat rushing to your cheeks as you averted your eyes. Play it cool, (Y/N).
"You have a very nice house." You observed, your gaze still flicking about the cozy space.
"Thanks," Ingo huffed, a hint of a smile lighting up his usually downturned. "There’s only a few passengers that stop in here, sorry if it's a mess." He confessed, focused on his work as he dabbed the cloth in the pail of water.
"Oh, you think you're bad?" You quipped playfully, a smirk plastered on your face. "You should--!"
Your breath hitched in pain as Ingo cautiously wiped near the gash on the back of your calf, his eyes immediately darting up to you.
"Sorry! Sorry." He apologized quietly, almost a soft hiss of apologies as he dabbed the newly red cloth back into water. "I haven't done this in a while, and you've got a mud roadblock near your wound." Ingo admitted, carefully positioning your knee so you could see the damage.
Exactly as he said, the large gash was more than the scrape you hoped it was, actively oozing blood and caked with dry mud. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight of the damage, Ingo pulling down his hat and nodding somberly. "I think you'll be okay, but if we leave this untreated it'll get infected, and that's the last destination we want to get off at."
His odd terminology could only bring a smile to your face, even as he spoke of horrible outcomes. It was cute, unique, something entirely his own.
"I'm not even sure how to patch up your shoulder." Ingo admitted dismally, swirling the cloth in the cool water.
Your shoulder! Memories of that Luxio came flooding back, making you agitated both at yourself and the situation you were put in. How were you supposed to escape? There were at least 10 Pokemon coming at you at once!
"Hey, hey. It's ok (Y/N)." Ingo could feel your tension, placing his unoccupied hand on your white-knuckled fist; the latter fiercely gripping the arm of the chair. "I patched it up the best I could, I'll have to do more safety checks, but for now you're not bleeding off the rails."
You couldn't help but ease up, your frustration waning as he gently massaged the back of your rough hand with his thumb and brought you back to reality. You grinned, a type of exhausted grin that conveyed your feelings more than any words could. Thank you.
Ingo's naturally cool face became a pretty pink shade when he saw your genuine smile, tucking his hat down and clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment.
"It might still sting a little," He warned, scooting closer and tilting your leg to get a better angle. "I'll try my best to avoid any unnecessary stops along our journey."
You could only nod your head slightly, holding your breath and preparing for the worst. It did sting, a lot more than sting, but you tried your best to keep calm. Luckily, Ingo was able to scrape off most of the mud and debris, making your leg feel a little bit better, but blood was still rhythmically pulsing out of the wound. It'd definitely leave a scar, you thought grimly.
You didn't say this out loud, but you really honored how methodically Ingo handled your wounds. First, he would clean the area, even if there wasn't any visual debris. Then, after drying the area, Ingo applied soft pressure to the wound, all the while glancing up at you to make sure it wasn't too much. Next, he would use an ointment he had (which smelled horrible and was probably made with medicinal herbs) and lather it onto the wound, being very careful not to irritate the exposed skin too much. Finally, taking gauze and a sterile pad, which were the only things he had on hand, he wrapped the wound; not too tight, not too loose.
Although Ingo was trying his best to be gentle, he would occasionally slip up, earning a sudden hiss in pain or a yelp of a curse from you. After apologizing profusely, and you assuring him it was okay, he would continue at a slower pace; adjusting himself based on your reaction.
It was actually relaxing, in an odd way. You'd never been pampered like how Ingo was pampering you, usually the Security Corps member that patched you up said "suck it up" as they violently wiped down your festering wounds. He made sure to take your feedback, and even enjoyed a little bit of chit-chat here and there. You both were naturally quieter people, so falling into a comfortable silence while he worked instead of meaningless chatter just felt right.
Your nasty leg had been patched up, your other leg in a makeshift brace, your arms had only been scraped and nicked a few times, so besides cleaning the area, nothing needed to be done. All that was left was your head and your shoulder.
"Thank you so much for your help, Ingo." You verbally and genuinely thanked the warden, feeling better already. Your body still ached, but at least you knew someone was on your side amidst this craziness.
"Don't mention it," Ingo replied compassionately, pulling the other chair from the table closer to be able to comfortably reach your head. “It’s my duty as your driver to make sure all passengers are comfortable and safe.”
You couldn't help but feel the pitter-patter of your heart as he moved closer. He was too focused on his work to see the way your cheeks darkened a shade, or how your eyes darted from his toned form to the ever-so-interesting wall.
Your face wasn't horrible, besides from a cut across your forehead and a deep gash outlining your left cheekbone. It looked unnatural, almost like you got those cuts from falling on a sharp, jagged surface. Ingo assumed you fell off a cliff or off Braviary, but he didn't want to bring it up. There were much more pressing matters he needed to speak to you about.
"Hey," Ingo began, swallowing his spit nervously as he remembered what he wanted to ask you. He patted down your forehead as he spoke, using a new washcloth and a fresh bucket of water; conveniently placed on the table. "When was the last time your destination was Jubilife?"
"Er…" You faltered, averting your gaze like an embarrassed teenager and softly biting the inside of your lip, trying to brainstorm hundreds of excuses for why you left. You wished the issue didn't exist, so naturally you haven't thought of the village much, let alone a good reason why you left!
With a sigh, you decided it wouldn't be any good to lie to Ingo, even if you didn't want to believe the truth.
"Three days ago."
The day the sky changed.
"Mm." He hummed to show he understood, pausing to dip the cloth into water once more.
"You know what's happened, don't you?"
You fell silent at this comment, either not willing to respond or not knowing the answer, you didn't know which. It was all too much. You didn't want to think about it.
Ingo saw you pause. This should be an easy question, but he knew you were a prideful individual and wouldn't admit to being alienated. He didn't want to admit it, either, but Ingo was always one to quickly come to terms with reality.
"I know how you feel." He continued, trying to lead the conversation as he switched to a dry rag and was patting the skin near your forehead.
"No, you don't." You retorted reflexively, eyebrows furrowing as your eyes flashed with frustration. You didn't even realize how aggressive you were until Ingo stopped cleaning your wound to blankly stare at you, completely unreadable. It was one of his many talents, he could be furious, gloomy or jolly and none of that could be seen behind his glasslike eyes.
"I'm… I'm sorry." You confessed, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you nervously shuffled in your seat and refused to make eye contact once again. "I just get frustrated sometimes, everyone in Hisui acts like we're close buddies, but when one thing goes wrong…"
"They treat you like an outsider." Ingo finished your sentence before you could, taking one of your hands in his. He tentatively intertwined your fingers, making sure to be careful of your callused palm, the skin near your knuckles cracked with sprinkles of cuts.
"I know how you feel." He repeated, squeezing your hand lightly as he spoke. "Subways aren’t meant to be ridden alone."
His soft smile, unusual for the normally stoic man, only proved his point, a similar smile growing on your own features. You didn't have to be alone anymore. All this time you were trying to accomplish tasks to aid the greater good of Hisui, all this time you sat with those you called friends. Almost all of those 'friends' are gone now, solely because of how you arrived in Hisui. The painful, horrible way you arrived in Hisui. You didn't remember anything from the experience, but you do remember the agonizing feeling, the way your body was torn apart by each molecule only to be reformed on Prelude Beach.
You couldn't help the hot, welled up tears building up in your eyes, and by such a simple sentence! You knew deep in your heart Ingo meant it every word he said, even if they were few.
"Hey," He cooed, setting the rag in his hand down to cup your cheek. "It's okay, I'm here." Ingo rubbed slow, rhythmic circles on the skin of your soft cheek, his palm a comforting type of warmth.
Even though your body ached, you threw yourself onto Ingo, pouring out all of the stress and grief you've accumulated here in Hisui. It felt nice to have a tangible person hold you in their embrace, softly reassuring you and telling you that this was normal rather than the extra pillow you clutched back in Jubilife.
Even though your muscles ached, the ache in your heart and soul were much more excruciating. You wanted to go home. You didn't even know what or where home was, but it definitely didn't involve color-changing skies or frenzied Pokemon assaulting you.
Your sobbing only worsened when you thought of what your family was doing. Did they know you were here? Do they think you're dead? You didn't even know what they were like!
"You're very strong, (Y/N)."
You tilted your head up to him, tears still flowing down your face uncontrollably. Ingo smiled weakly, although you could see his lips tremor. He probably was thinking the same thoughts as you. He probably had a family, a family that missed him dearly. You choked back a hiccup, managing to let out a frail apology as you swallowed back another sob on the rise.
Ingo used his fingers to move the hair in your face out of the way, placing a gentle, loving kiss on your forehead. His lip still tremored, making it feel more shaky than he intended, but the effort was still there.
"I wouldn't be able to make it to this terminal if I was taking your journey."
You knew what he was trying to say, but the terminology only brought an unstable grin to your face through the dismal tears. You still clutched onto him like he was the only thing keeping you stable, drinking in his calming scent of cedar and freshly-charred wood as you continued to weep. Ingo's stuttery hands held you flush to his chest, resting his head on yours as he murmured and encouraged you; hearing his voice echo through his chest bringing you immense comfort.
Even after your tears had dried, Ingo held you, softly stroking your hair and tucking loose strands behind your ears.
"This won't do." He crooned, momentarily retracting his hands and glancing down at you. In the midst of your emotional moment, you had pulled Ingo into your lap as you continued to grip his upper body.
"Hm?" You mumbled, your voice muffled as you nuzzled deeper into the folds of his dark coat.
"No…" You whined like a five-year-old that didn't want to go to school, feeling Ingo loosen your steel grip, trying to shuffle himself free of your grasp.
"Don't worry, dear." He placed an ever-so-soft kiss on your forehead, like you were a piece of fine china he didn't dare want to break. "Your conductor isn't going anywhere."
Ingo was able to pick you up bridal style, still being very careful around your injured shoulder and braced kneecap. He didn't get to dressing your shoulder wound yet, but his simple wrapping was good enough for now; at least it had stopped bleeding.
He made his way to the closed off room, carefully propping the door open with his foot. As you expected, inside was a futon pressed against the wall and two windows showcasing the blizzard that was raging on outside, hints of the sunrise dribbling in through the cracks of a freakish sky. Ingo softly placed you down on the futon, promising he'll be back in a moment.
The futon was cold, making you shiver to the touch. You wanted to wait patiently for whatever Ingo was doing, but you yearned to be close to his warm body once more as you settled into the heavy covers of the bed.
Your body still ached like no tomorrow, so it was no surprise that foolishly trying to move a hefty blanket with your bad arm would come with a price. Yelping with pain, you held your shoulder fast as Ingo materialized next to you, hurriedly asking if everything was alright and looking you over with worrisome eyes. After assuring him that you were fine, he returned to his task, his heavy feet making light thuds on the floor.
It was a rhythmatic kind of footsteps, ones that were lulling you into a deep sleep. You didn't even notice you were drifting off until you heard a gentle "Here," and a wooden bowl being held out for you.
Blinking yourself back into alertness, you graciously accepted the bowl from Ingo, who was settling in next to you. The wooden bowl was deliciously warm to touch, its contents appearing to be some kind of stew. You hadn't eaten real food in at least 10 hours, let alone warm food and not dried meats or nuts. Pushing through the exhaustion, you gobbled up Ingo's stew like you hadn't eaten in weeks.
Ingo could only smile, nestling in closer to you as he ate his food, only at a much more reasonable pace. "I have more, if you're interested." He added, eyeing your diminishing bowl.
"It's very good, Ingo." You praised him using your spoon to scrape the last bits still stuck to the bottom of the bowl. "I'd love-" You paused, interrupted by a long, drawn out yawn. "some more."
Ingo went and brought you back more stew and wooden cup filled with freshly-steeped chamomile tea, making sure you were properly fed and cared for. The tea was heavenly, its light floral notes making your sore muscles relax and unwind. Taking your dirty dishes, Ingo set them in the kitchen to be washed.
You expected the warden to join you, but you felt the knot of worry coil itself inside your stomach when you instead heard his softer footsteps emanating through the house. Would it be weird for you two to share a bed? I mean, you both dropped out of a floating portal in the sky and you literally sobbed on the guy's shoulder all night, weird couldn't even begin to describe your circumstances.
"Ingo?" You called, almost like a child waiting to be tucked in as you gaze held fast to the doorframe. Sure enough, Ingo peeked his head in with a gentle and questioning "Hm?"
This was the first time you saw him in better lighting, or at least paid attention to his appearance in better lighting, and it took all of your mental willpower to gulp nervously rather than gasp at the sight of him. You never noticed how dreary his eyes looked, how the purpleish bags under them matched the darker shades of his pink Pearl Clan uniform, how his back slouched more than usual. He still was at your side and ready to be conducted, though, a faint trace of a smile on his lips. This man needed a nap, and needed it now.
"Come here, darling," You beckoned him closer, heart melting when you saw his cheeks flush from the sudden pet name. He did as he was commanded, rather he knelt next to you, awaiting another order.
"No, I mean-" You sighed. You didn't want to say the words 'sleep with me, Ingo' in fear of scaring him away, but he obviously wasn't understanding. You scooted over, patting the unoccupied side of the bed with a tired smile.
The lightbulb finally going off inside his head, Ingo's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "(Y/N), I-I don't think-"
"No. Snuggles." You stated simply, putting Ingo's worries to rest as you held your arms out and grasped at the air with your hands.
Chucking to himself, Ingo removed his cap, running his fingers through his wild, unkempt hair. "Alright, alright."
You shifted yourself, getting comfy as Ingo removed and folded his well-worn coat. Doing the same with his Pearl Clan uniform, you couldn't help but stare at the countless scars raked across his toned body, many more hidden behind his white sleeveless undershirt. Ingo was here for longer than you, and if you remember right, he said he was transported here five years ago. He probably had encounters just like you had, he probably spent countless nights dressing his own wounds.
Soon Ingo was slipping under the covers beside you, wearing only his black dress pants and his form-fitting undershirt. Even with all of your injuries, you flung your arms around Ingo's torso, relishing his body radiating with warmth and comfort. You could hear the soft rumble of a laugh in his chest, the warden welcoming you into his embrace and holding you flush to his torso.
You absently traced the scars on his back, your subconscious loving the way your fingers could slide into the grooves of his damaged yet toned muscles.
"Get some rest." Ingo instructed, rubbing the small of your back soothingly to avoid any contact with your injuries. "Don't worry, I'll be here when you awake."
"I don't know how I could ever repay you." You admitted, nuzzling deeper into Ingo's barely clothed chest. You again smelled his woodsy musk, which was somehow so comforting and inviting that it swirled your worries down the drain, making you only focus on this moment. You could begin to feel your eyes grow heavy, your muscles becoming jelly-like and your breathing gradually slowing.
"You already have." He murmured, planting a slow kiss on the top of your head.
"How so?"
"You gave me a true purpose, (Y/N). A track I didn't even know existed." He admitted with a smile and a cute yawn, but due to drowsiness his words sounded muffled, almost distant. "Now rest, my beloved. You'll need it."