Chapter Text
“When I first saw Boss Ingo again, I thought he was a ghost. I mean. My grandma, uh, works in Morty’s gym, in Ecruteak, so it wouldn’t’ve been that much of a surprise? But I left Johto to get away from that kind of stuff, and I kinda figured the subway was about as far from ghosts as you could get – excepting, like, Boss Ingo’s Chandelure, but she’s a sweetie, so. So I probably wouldn’t have talked to him, would’ve just tried to ignore him and made coffee for whoever else –
You don’t have to glare like that, I said ‘would’! It’s Boss Ingo, y’know? He’s good people. Always tips extra.
So I kinda, y’know, caught his eye – he was squinting around the station, I had to work for it – and I called his name, and he just? Flickered out of existence.
Yeah, like I said. Ghost.
The second time – it was about the same time, both times, maybe around 4 A.M. But the second time, I actually saw him show up, instead of just, bam, there he was. I mean, it was still a little like that, but he seemed surprised to trip over the bench. Sat on it easily enough, but I don’t know, maybe some ghosts can do that.
He was still looking around, like some kind of tourist or something, but he got pretty excited when he saw me behind the counter.
‘It’s you!’ he said.
I dunno what anyone’s ever supposed to say to that, so I gave him a” – I demonstrate – “weird little shrug-nod. But then he went, ‘Do you know me?’
Which, like. Yeah, I was only the one who filled your ridiculously early coffee order for like two and a half years. So I tell him that, ‘One black, one with cream and sugar boarded,’ and he kinda lights up, so I’m like, okay, do you want one? I don’t think ghosts can drink, but, I dunno, the warmth and smell are still nice, and if I was a ghost I think I’d appreciate someone making the effort for me. And he nods and says he’d like that.
So I get the pot going – it’s always a little slow before 6 – except I realize I don’t actually know which one of the two he drinks, so I just make both. But it doesn’t matter, because he gets up to come get them and disappears before he makes it to the counter, so, like, whatever.
And, okay, maybe I should’ve told someone at that point. But how would you have taken it if I said, ‘Hey, Boss Ingo’s back, but he’s a ghost’? If I was the only one who could see him, I didn’t want anyone saying I was crazy or that I was playing a mean joke. I wouldn’t, I swear!
And the other thing was… I wasn’t sure how long he’d stick around. It wasn’t like, okay, he showed up Wednesday, I’ll see him again next week. It wasn’t a regular thing. Sometimes he’d disappear for a month between visits, sometimes he’d be back the next day, and ghosts… you know.
Move on.
I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up just for him to disappear for good.
But he kept showing up, so. We talked. He’d forgotten a lot – that was another reason I didn’t want to say anything. I told him what I could about the Battle Subway, and some of it would click and some of it wouldn’t and I’d have to try and explain, like, the medical technology down there, or what an Audino is. I offered to give him a tour one time –
Look, it was 4 A.M.! I was willing to bend the rules a little. But, yeah, he made it like three steps before poofing out.
Which is why, next time he showed up, I walked the coffee over to him instead of making him come up to the counter, and he actually drank it this time, which is about when you showed up.”
There’s still a coffee left – the black one. I pass it over. “I tried to tell you guys to wait, Boss.”
Boss Emmet takes a big gulp of the coffee – it’s not exactly fresh anymore, but it’s still plenty hot, thanks, so I don’t know how he stands that much going down all at once. “My– My brother,” he finally says. His voice grinds like the coffee machine when I start it up for the first time in a shift – I guess it’s been a while since he’s used it. “Ingo. Is he alive.”
“I can’t say for sure.” His red-rimmed eyes burn through me, and I wince. “I’m not a licensed medium or anything, okay? It’d help if I saw him outside the station –”
“I have,” Emmet interrupts. His knee begins to slowly bounce. It’s the most life I’ve seen from him in ages. “His hat. I thought– His hat. No false starts, no detours. Follow the schedule! But– If I missed his train –”
“No, that’s good!”
“It is not good!” he says, erupting from his seat and beginning to pace. His hand slashes out in broad, sharp gestures. “It is very, verrrrry bad!”
“No, you don’t get it!” He whirls on me. “Ghosts are lingering regrets, right? They’re usually tied to one place, somewhere they cared a lot about in life,” I quickly explain. “If he was haunting the station, you wouldn’t've seen him, and if he was haunting you, I wouldn’t have seen him.”
“Chandelure. It would have found him. It did not find him.” Emmet gives a sharp nod. “Ingo is alive.”
The words sound too feeble hanging in the air like that all by themselves. We still don’t know for sure, but– gods, I hope he is. I can’t remember which one of this region’s legendaries is the one who deals with belief, but I send a prayer its way when I agree, “Ingo is alive.”
“Ingo is alive!” Emmet isn’t as loud as his brother, but that’s a high bar to clear. He’s loud enough to startle the earlybird commuters, at least, and the depot workers too, when he spins to point at them next. “I will not be coming into the station today! Please shuffle cars and update the timetable accordingly. Follow the rules! Check safety. Aim for victory! Aaaaaaaall abooooaard!”
He slams his cup into the nearest garbage and marches off. One of the younger depot workers manages to catch him before he makes it to the door, though. “Boss! Um. Where are you going?”
Emmet turns, grinning. Everyone, myself included, takes an involuntary step back. “I am Emmet,” he informs the worker. “I am going to buy a verrrrrrry large Beautifly net. And then I am going to find Ingo.”