Work Text:
“Volo!!”
Volo sighed as he heard his boss call his name, grumbling a little to himself as he tied his far too long blonde hair back in a perfect knot. Although being out for a few days due to a very non-work related injury Volo had never forgotten the manager’s one cardinal rule: If you have long hair, keep it up at all times.
“Sorry, Boss. Do you know what getting punched in the face can do to your psyche?” Volo grinned, trying to look as innocent as possible.
His manager, however, looked ever so slightly less amused. His dark hair swept over his face was pulled back into a messy half-tail, streaks of white against black rippling like an ocean in the unstraightened waves. His uniform blue button up was wrinkled and barely buttoned, arms crossed in a perfect position to hide the unkempt fabric and still show his glittery gold name tag, reading Grimsley.
“I’m well aware, Volo. Yet your failure to abide by this rule almost every single day you come to work has me thinking it is for a different reason.” Grimsley leaned against the counter, coins in his pocket jingling like too early sleigh bells. “In fact, why don’t you take a break. Have some coffee, maybe gamble your life away. What’s life without a little living?” The man smiled and touched Volo on the shoulder, passing him on the way to the back area. “I’ll be waiting.”
The blonde shivered. His boss was a little odd, but hey, so was he. While it was a little strange working with an ex member of the elite four who had only got the shop in possession due to drunkenly betting on it, the large amount of breaks he was given were actually quite nice and the higher pay was definitely worth putting up with his weird rules and the ungodly closing times. Volo also disappeared into the back and slipped off both his apron and button up to reveal a much more comfortable Lucario themed T shirt. Wandering over to one of the few empty tables the barista scanned the menu, looking for something he hadn’t made or eaten before.
That’s when Volo saw him.
Tall, almost 5 inches taller than him, with messy gray hair and those all too familiar sideburns framing a soft frown. Ingo had appeared inside of the coffee shop Volo worked at, dressed down from his usual black coat into a worn gray and pink Unova Subway sweatshirt and quite comfortable looking blue jeans. A nice light maroon beanie hid his slowly depleting hairline, occasionally glowing with what seemed like electricity.
Grimsley went over and assisted the man as he approached the counter, Volo listening intensely to their conversation.
“Oh, hello, Ingo! It’s very nice to see you again. Unfortunately, we’re all out of seats for the time being. I’m very sorry, but I can see what I can do if you would li-”
“Don’t worry. He’s with me.” Volo called, drawing eyes to everyone sitting around him. The blonde could feel his face turn a little red as he felt their eyes on him, clearing his throat nervously.
“Ah! Well, take a seat, then. We’ll serve you any second!” Grimsley smiled, walking Ingo over to Volo’s seat and pulling out a chair for him. The merchant almost laughed at both of their incredibly confused faces, yet merely smiled as Ingo took a seat across from his old friend.
With closer inspection, it was safe to say the man looked terrible. Bloodshot eyes puffy from crying, face seemingly unshaven, and although Volo couldn’t tell if his eyes were playing tricks on him Ingo looked even skinner than before, face looking like it could be a ghost pokemon from the lack of color and fat present on it. Volo could’ve sworn he didn’t look this bad even in Hisui, so what had happened? Was it something Emmet said, or was it just the stress of being back in the modern day without much memory of what anything was? No matter what it was, Volo took care to be extra kind to the subway master as he spoke. He didn’t know what the poor guy was going through, and he definitely didn’t want to make it worse.
Ingo spoke first. “Thank you, Volo. It means quite a lot to me.”
“Of course! Anything for an old friend.” Volo grinned, handing Ingo a menu. “It’s great to see you after so long, so it’s only natural if I offer you a nice meal.”
Ingo nodded politely. “I understand. May I propose a question, though?”
“Go ahead. I have all the time in the world.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”
Volo nearly choked on his tongue when he heard the question, coughing from both laughter and surprise. He felt a little bad as Ingo leaned over to help him, offering the fatherly pats on the back from his past companion. Once Volo had composed himself again with quite a few more minutes of people staring, the man took a deep breath and began to explain himself.
“I should be dead, most likely. But, well, something keeps me just out of reach. It’s frustrating, yes, yet I know my moment will come when I most need it to. I suppose I still have things to do, places to go, both old and new enemies to meet. Arceus isn’t done with me yet.” Volo explained, eyes drifting off to the old, clearly expensive tapestries on the wall. “In other words, I’m immortal for the time being. While it’s annoying, I’ve really gotten to see my full potential after 200 years.”
Ingo hummed, interested. “I wish you luck with your life, then, no matter how long it will be.”
Volo smiled. “I wish you luck as well! Say, how’s the old lady luck been treating you? Are you happy to be back home?” He mused, picking up a sugar packet and pressing the particles inside around with his fingernails.
Volo could feel his heart drop as Ingo’s face fell deeper into despair, his companion staring blankly into the menu as he spoke.
*God damn it, Volo, why couldn’t you just be normal for once?* Volo's mind swore at himself. *Why can’t you be a normal guy with normal problems? Now Ingo is just going to think you’re that god-obsessed lunatic you were all of those years ago!*
Ingo broke Volo’s train of hateful thoughts with a shaky, surprisingly quiet voice. “I.. could have been better. My brother disowned me and fired me from the battle subway a day or two ago, so I suppose life could be more positive for me at the moment.”
“He did what?”
“...Do not go after him, Volo. I know you are a very powerful man, and my brother is just stressed. He needs some time away, and-”
Volo didn’t need to know what he did to keep himself from marching to the battle subway and slamming him into Hisui for his own ten-year hell. He knew enough from the blood on his arm and Ingo’s little yelp as he tried to hold himself back, shoving one of the soft Café napkins over his injury. The blonde took a deep breath, trying to will the red in his vision back to a peaceful blue.
"Are you okay?!" Ingo exclaimed, holding the napkin over three deep gashes in Volos forearm, most likely from his fingernails.
“Yes, im fine. Thats just something that happens when im unable to control myself." Volo sighed "But thats beside the point. I'm more concerned about you, Ingo. You don’t deserve that.” Volo muttered, scooting his chair closer to his friend. “I’m so sorry. You’ve already lost so much, I can’t imagine what it would feel like to give up as much here as you did in Hisui.”
Familiar tears brushed at Ingo’s eyes as he started again. “I don’t understand what is wrong with me… why can’t I be there for my brother? Why can’t I be the person he wants anymore? I… I need to be fixed. I want to be back to normal. I can’t see my brother sad any longer, he was so sad for so long, I…” Ingo cut himself off, burying his face in his hands. Volo took immediate action to calm him down, gently rubbing his shoulders and back.
“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You don’t owe anyone anything. Your brother is lucky enough to have you in one piece, let alone still remember him.” Volo comforted, gently patting Ingo. “You don’t need to be fixed. Nobody needs to be fixed. It takes time to get things right again after so long, I promise it’ll all be okay in the end. Even if you do find a few Akaris in your mission to overthrow Arceus.”
Volo smiled as he heard Ingo chuckle softly. That might’ve been the first time he’d heard him laugh, a sad yet sweet sound coming from someone you’d never expect. If he was being honest, Volo was only telling Ingo what he wanted to hear at his lowest. He saw a younger version of himself in those bloodshot eyes and that skinny frame, something tempting him to give the saddened ex conductor the love he needed during his own days of misery. Selfish, maybe, but if it helped both of them was it really that cruel?
“Ahem. I hate to interrupt whatever strange ‘bromance’ you two have here, but I’ve been standing waiting to take your order for a while now.” Grimsley grumbled, towering over the two with a pen and paper. Although as the manager he didn’t particularly need to take orders, Grimsley didn’t particularly care what the rules said. In his mind he could do whatever he wanted with his cafe, and that involved working a minimum wage job on top of his previous one.
“Ah, yes, very sorry.” Volo muttered, burying his face back in the menu. “I’ll have a mocha with a chocolate chip cookie, please.”
“Just coffee for me. Black.” Ingo ordered, wincing as the light from inside his hat sparked to life. “And a strawberry pastry, please.”
Grimsley finished the orders and walked away, mumbling something to himself about strange coworkers and weird disappearing people.
“What’s under your hat there, Ingo?” Volo questioned, looking at the happily blinking light inside of Ingo’s burnt pink beanie. His company looked a little embarrassed, than pulled off his hat to reveal a little joltik nestled into the remains of his fluffy charcoal hair.
“He was the only one I could sneak out from under Emmet’s nose. I don’t know if he’s looking for him or not, but we do enjoy each other’s company.”
Volo paused. “Are you saying he took your pokemon too?!”
Ingo nodded once more. “Yes. He is the only Subway Boss working currently at the station, so he needs the strongest team possible for both double battles and single battles.”
Volo could’ve spoken on how that was wrong for hours. He almost did, actually. The time flew by like seconds, their relationship from either 10 years or 200 years ago rekindling like a fire just waiting to be lit. the two chatted for the rest of the day, drinking too many cups of coffee and spoiling joltik with enough pastries to last him a lifetime. Still, the time had to come to say goodbye, as it did with everything.
“I’ll see you again?” Volo waved, giving Joltik a final pet on the head.
“Even if tomorrow is the end of the world.” Ingo smiled.