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The Coffee Shop was surprisingly calm for early November, with only a few regular guests popping their heads in to greet the staff and order something to go. The quiet was sort of a nice break from the usual busy nature of the place, leaving the workers a lot more time to themselves than they usually did. Grateful to all of Arceus for the little bit of down time Ingo had decided to take a walk around town, ready to take in the fresh fall air.
“So, how are you liking it here so far?” Volo asked, his blonde hair falling in front of his face like a tapestry. Sometimes Ingo wondered what was under that mane of his, right eye always carefully covered by the yellow sheen. Ingo tightened his apron around himself, fixing the metal tag that read his name in big black letters.
“It’s quite nice,” Ingo said. “Although it is a bit boring compared to the battle subway, I do enjoy having a job again.” Ingo really was grateful to have a workplace, especially since his last one was, well, terminated. He couldn’t really focus on the normal tasks of everyday life without something big to preoccupy him, and a job was the perfect thing to calm his loud mind.
“That’s good. Clocking out for the day?” Volo asked, slipping off his own uniform. He shook out the loose bun he always wore, hair falling down like a waterfall of gold. Ingo couldn’t help trying to take a peek at the eye he always hid, twisting his body to see what secrets he was hiding. “You can just ask, you know.”
Ingo turned a bit red from embarrassment. “My apologies.”
Volo just laughed and nudged his shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. I know you’re curious.” He grinned. “Speaking of… did you see they have new evidence for that kid that went missing? The old team plasma one?”
“No, I haven’t. What was his name again? I know it started with an N…”
“Natural Harmonia.” Grimsley had suddenly popped up behind the pair, making Ingo jump. “I’ve spoken to him not too long ago. He’s in Alola, but… well, it’s a bit of a long story.”
“Jesus! You scared me.” Volo cried. “Natural Harmonia, hm… I don’t want to imagine the mental states of his parents when naming him, poor kid.” Volo fiddled with his glasses, blowing hot air on them to clean them off. His eyes looked less sunken as he took the frames off, once cold gray eyes having softened into a warm charcoal. Ingo was glad Volo was happier here. He didn’t want to have to imagine what must have happened to his friend to make him want to destroy the world, let alone try and go through with it.
“You said you know where he is?” Ingo asked, putting a finger up to his chin. “And you haven’t told anybody?”
“Well,” Grimsley grimaced, pressing his thumbs together. “He remembers almost nothing about himself. Not even his name. I tried to talk to him, get him home and some help, but… He seemed to be going through a too much to return back to a Unova that will do nothing but heckle and torment him.”
Volo and Ingo knew exactly what the other was thinking.
“Transported to a mysterious place, without any recollection of himself or where his origins lie… hm. How strange. I hope he gets the help he needs.” Ingo glanced over at his coworker, seeing his own expression reflected in Volo. “Anyway, we will be taking our leave now. I will see you later, Grimsley.” Ingo gently took Volo’s arm on his own, his company trying not to giggle.
Grimsley turned back to assist another table. “Man oh man, you two sure are strange. Who would’ve thought a mysterious merchant and the grubby ex subway boss would become best friends in a mere 6 months..?” Their boss mused, mostly to himself.
That's right, it had already been six months since Ingo had started working here. Since Ingo had been separated from his brother. His pokemon. The only reminder of his past relationships other than Volo was a little joltik he always kept hidden in the folds of his clothes, this time gently tucked away into a messenger bag.
“Six months already. Time flies, hum? Especially when you’re pestering me with the flowers you like to put in our window. You know I don’t like lilacs.” Both of them smiled, opening the glass doors of the coffee shop. The bitter November breeze hit both of them immediately, causing both of them to flinch back.
“Goodness.” Ingo muttered, leaning against his friend. “Cold, is it not?”
“Very,” Volo chuckled, tightening his trench coat around himself. “Ah well. It always gets colder before it gets warmer. All it really takes is patience.”
Ingo smiled. Volo loved his strange metaphors, especially when they incorporated their own personal problems. It was almost like he thought they were in a book or something, foreshadowing whatever event would come next. Ingo would be lying if he said he didn’t question their reality at times, though. Sometimes he pondered if he really was just a character in a book or a show, forced to follow the rules a set timeline to survive. While the thoughts were quite scary, he felt a strange sense of comfort that there really could be an author out there, keeping him safe. He wondered what they were like. Someone old and grizzled, experience drowning out their mind, or a young aspiring author just looking to get the words they needed out there? For all Ingo knew they could just be a high schooler set before an education-issued computer, driven by nothing but the praise of other people and determined soul screaming in their mind.
“Are you okay?” The voice of Volo broke through his thoughts, gentle hand brushing his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for an answer for 10 minutes.”
“M..My apologies.” Ingo muttered. “I was lost in thought. Please forgive me.”
Volo smiled, something caring yet worried. “You don’t need to be so uptight. I’m not your brother.”
“That you are not.”
A soft chuckle chimed through the air. “Anyway. I was going to ask if you wanted to see my eye.” Volo brushed the soft layer of hair over his face, gesturing to the organ behind it.
“Wh- I-Isn’t that sacrilege? You said you wouldn’t show it to anyone.” Ingo gasped, surprised at the offer.
“Please. You’ve lived with and worked with me for six months. I think we’re too close to have a petty secret potentially be what tears us apart.” Volo laughed, a warm smile on his face. “However, if you’re uncomfortable, it can wait. I have all of the time in the world.”
“No, No. I want to see. I simply do not want to have forced you into it.” Ingo said. If he was honest, he was a little excited to learn something new about his friend. Something dark and secretive, something that Ingo had been wondering about ever since he first laid eyes on the man. Ingo pulled him to the side and swept back his blonde hair, holding it behind his ear with his scarred hand.
Ingo gasped a little when he saw it. The eye looked normal from a distance, but with a closer look the man could see its true nature. The pupil had been modified into the shape of the rings of an Arceus, surrounded by an iris of black and gray and gold and white. It almost looked like a monochrome galaxy, complete with deep gashes running over the edges of the socket.
“It’s a little odd, I know.” Volo muttered sheepishly, pulling the yellow curtain back over the half of his face. “I did it when it was young. I’ve been thinking of having it taken out, but it was the only really scar that has stayed on me for a long time. It’s special to me, almost. Like a reminder of how much I’ve changed.”
Ingo couldn’t speak. His body felt weak all of a sudden, almost convicted with the strange allure of Volo’s strange eye. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, head spinning with pure white, but the next thing he remembered was wrapping his arms around Volo, trapping his best friend in a hug.
“Oh,” Volo squeaked, returning the embrace. He smelled of spices and warmth, like your mother’s cooking on a cold snowy day or a comforting fire with a cup of hot chocolate. “I don’t feel much about it now, I promise. I’ve just accepted it, I’m not sad about it or anything… while I’m grateful for the hug, Ingo, I…”
Volo trailed off, lifting up Ingo’s gaunt looking face to peer at it with concern. “Ingo, are you okay?”
Ingo didn’t know if he was okay. He felt so weak, brain melting together into a cacophony of colors that he couldn’t quite understand. He wanted to pass out and bounce around the room at the same time, clinging to Volo like he was the only form of life he had left.
That’s what Ingo felt like. He felt dead.
“Oh, god..” Volo picked up his friend, trying to keep him stable. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s happening… god, I hope it wasn’t me… damn you, Volo…” Ingo could feel the anger radiating off of Volo’s body, only seeping out of him with the creation of a new scar on his forearm. Ingo wanted to help him, to tell him that he could do something that didn’t hurt himself to cope with his outbursts. But Ingo was stuck in the position Volo held him in, not knowing how long he would be there.
That was until he fell, hard.
It was a strange feeling at first, almost peaceful other than Volo’s yelp. The only thing he knew was that something had caught him, something warm and hard like a heating pad or a fireplace. Something… familiar.
“Fwooo!”
Ingo was in the arms(?) of his old chandelure, being slowly drained of his life force.
Ingo could’ve cried in that moment. He wrapped his arms around the creature, still shivering from the lack of energy yet now fully engulfed in the warmth of his old pokemon. Laughter filled the air, both from Volo and Ingo, mixed with the odd ghostly cries of a chandelure so happy to see him it almost ate him alive.
“Chandelure? Are you alright?! Where did you come from? Has Emmet been feeding you? I miss you so much… are you still having fun at the Battle Subway? Oh, goodness, I’m so happy to see you..”
The chandelure held its trainer close, little joltik escaping from its bag to greet it’s old friend. All four of them had taken a place on the sidewalk, joyfully entertaining Ingo’s old pokemon.
“Here, have this. You look exhausted.” Volo offered down a granola to Ingo who devoured it in seconds, stretching with new happiness.
However, there was still something there. Something wrong with the scene they were in. with the newfound energy from Volo’s granola Ingo had the energy to look up, staring right into the pale face of the person that used to be his brother.