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"No...it is not mine."
Ingo continued to stare down at the cap in his hands, while Lian made a confused noise.
"I was so sure that it was yours though," he replied with a huff. "If anyone can recognize a hat, it's me. My family does make them, after all."
At this, he tipped the brim of his own oversized cowboy hat. Ingo did not know what exactly a "cowboy" was, just that something told him they all wore hats in a similar fashion to Warden Lian's. Ingo gave the boy a shrug.
"As you can see, I have not lost my hat." The black cap, though heavily faded and tore up, was still in its rightful place atop Ingo's head. "Besides, I have not been to Grandtree Arena recently. Lady Irida has had me searching throughout the highlands for a missing child. I have not left my station in nearly a week."
"Oh." Lian sounded almost disappointed by Ingo's explanation, but it was the truth. "Any word on the child?"
Ingo shook his head. "I have not found much. He disappeared soon after a merchant visited the settlement, so Gaeric was trying to catch up with the merchant before they departed from the icelands. It is his hope that the merchant might have seen where the child went. However, that was already several days before Lady Irida reached out to me."
Lian gave a silent nod. They both could see where this track was headed, and it wasn't a good destination for the sole passenger. Losing a passenger, especially a child, didn't sit right with Ingo. There was something that he was supposed to do in this situation, a set of rules...protocols to follow...and an emergency phone number? Again, Ingo couldn't even begin to fathom what a "phone" was, and the only number he could think to calculate that would be of any potential use was how ever long the child had been lost for. Based on how much time it took for any information to travel across Sinnoh's vast space, as well as adjusted parameters to account for an additional day give or take in delay, Ingo estimated that it had been one week and three days since the child had gone missing.
"Maybe Warden Calaba can ask Lord Ursaluna to help search?" Lian suggested. The boy then whistled for his Goomy and readjusted the bag hanging off his shoulder. "At any rate, since you're sure the hat isn't yours, I guess that I need to report to Irida that there was a stranger in Lord Kleavor's domain. It's just odd to me. It's the same foreign looking design as yours. I don't know anyone else who has one like it."
Ingo hummed as he looked at it once more. The fabric was currently dyed an off yellow, though Ingo couldn't tell if it was the original color or a result from sun bleaching and being exposed to the elements. Lian wasn't certain how long it had been in Grandtree Arena for, only that it must have been put there during the three day interim that it took for him to travel between the Pearl Clan settlement and Lord Kleavor's domain. A large bit was missing from the brim, almost like something had taken a bite out of it, while some other minor damages were scattered throughout. Ingo thought he could even see the faint trace of scorch marks, begging the question of what else he might just find if he had longer to examine it. Nevertheless, he couldn't stand there all day, and so Ingo reluctantly held the cap back out for Lian to take. The boy shook his head.
"You can hold onto it if you want. It will take a while for my letter to get through, and with this missing child situation, I don't think that Irida will be able to meet with me. At least, not until it's finally resolved. I can take it back then."
Ingo felt a slight flutter in his chest, as though a Mothim had suddenly taken up residence in his ribs. Even though he knew the cap most certainly did not belong to him, the thought of being able to keep it with him evoked similar sentiments of possession. As though, if the true owner couldn't have it, then Ingo deserved to. How verrrrry odd indeed.
"Thank you. I will be sure to preserve this item within the lost and found...although, I have no idea what that is."
Strange "Ingo-ism" aside, Lian said that he appreciated the thought and would be in touch. Ingo offered to escort him back down the mountain, but the boy warden waved him off. Instead, Ingo just shouted a hardy goodbye and then reached for his flute. He needed to get back to his search anyway.
Ingo poked the fire a couple of times before adding another piece of wood. Beside him, Lady Sneasler settled in with her freshly caught meal. After Lian had departed for the Heartwood station, Ingo had rejoined his noble in looking for any sign of the child. They continued to have little to no success. His lady could definitely smell the presence of a human, outside of himself and Melli, but the scent wasn't strong enough to track long term. The two of them just ended up going in circles for hours until Ingo decided to call it for the night. The hat remained heavy in his hand, as he had refused to put it down since they had returned to Lady Sneasler's den. His lady lightly ran a claw over the top, before doing the same to Ingo's cap.
"Yes, they do appear to be a matching set," he agreed.
If the connection between the hats was even obvious to a Pokémon, then what was Ingo missing? He had only ever had the one cap, and he knew that it was only ever black. This hat was yell-no, it was white. Ingo didn't know why, but he was certain now that the cap was white at some point. One black cap and one white cap. That really brought his comment of them being a "matching set" into a new light. Both caps even had the same metal charm sewed onto the front, as well as a similar brown band wrapped around just above the brim. It was highly likely that they must have originated from the same place. The same place that Ingo must have originated from. Did that mean, whoever owned this hat, came from that very same place? Was it possible that they knew Ingo? Someone who wore white, just like the man who haunted his fractured memory. If Ingo could just-
Ingo dropped the hat and clutched his head. A familiar, yet incredibly unwelcome, sensation strangled any thoughts that didn't involve crippling pain. Lady Sneasler warbled in concern just as the agony began to encompass his right eye. The pounding pressure on his skull was nothing new, a warning that Ingo was straying too far away from the here and now. He was here, in Hisui, and it did not matter how he got there. Anything in the past, even his own, was simply not meant for him to have. Admittedly, Ingo didn't know when it first became painful for him to try and remember. It couldn't have always been that way, but the furthest back he could think without causing a reaction was only when he was first found wandering around half frozen in the snow by Lady Irida. That was already after his amnesia had manifested.
He supposed that it didn't matter either way. Ruminating on what he could never have wouldn't do Ingo any good. At worst, it could even get him killed if he wasn't careful. Too many times he was caught distracted, and wild Pokémon prey on any moment of weakness. Not to mention the region itself didn't take too kindly to those who refused to stay alert. Ingo was also pretty sure that Almighty Sinnoh did not appreciate his rejection of its gift of space...or whatever it was that the Pearl Clan worshipped. He may have had to adopt their religion early on in order to be accepted into the clan, but Ingo still struggled with some of the finite details. For some reason "Truth" and "Ideals" held little sway in the community as worship points.
As the migraine began to dull into an aching throb, Ingo still winced at any sudden movements involving his head. The best thing he could do, at least without taking any Exca-cedrin...again, he had no immediate knowledge of a medical herb with that name, was to just sleep it off. Gently, Ingo nestled in with Lady Sneasler. His Pokéballs were close by, and Ingo considered letting his team out for the night. However, with his headache still bothering him, and the fact that Gliscor was a serial cuddler, he decided against it. They would be fine for the night. Ingo reached for the white cap. It really was a copy of his own, and he wondered if its owner was as attached as Ingo was to his. Obviously, there were different circumstances to consider, but still.
"...You did not. You SERIOUSLY did not!"
"Oh, but I did, brother. Now we can easily tell whose cap is whose."
"You mean aside from the fact that my cap has always been black because it matches my black coat, and yours is white for the same reason?"
"Maybe. Or, maybe I just wanted to do something nice for my big bro, and so I had his most precious cap embroidered with his name. You are welcome. See? It's right there. It says I-N-G-O, Ingo. I even had my hat done as well. They were having a two-for-one special."
"What font is that? It looks more like I-N-S-Q. How much did you pay for this?"
"Wait...awe dragons. They messed up mine as well. It says-"
Ingo ignored the surprised growl of Lady Sneasler as he burst awake. The fire had just about died down, but he was still determined to use whatever little light the embers provided. He was intimately aware of the finer details of his cap, and that included the small pictures on the inside lining. At least, everyone had come to the conclusion that they were just strange little designs for decorative purposes. Except for Ingo. He had never fully believed the theory. To him, they always looked like letters belonging to a language far removed from that of the Pearl Clan. One he both could and couldn't read.
I-N-S-Q
He has puzzled over the inscription for years, wondering what the word could possibly mean. Yet, all this time...it wasn't a word. It was never a word. It was actually supposed to say INGO. Without hesitation, Ingo reached for the white hat. He knew there was a name in there as well. It may be misspelled as well, but Ingo knew for sure that there was-
It had been torn out. Ingo felt his energy leave him as he collapsed onto the floor of the cave. The epiphany was gone, as was the identity of the man in white. Sapped of his will to remain awake, Ingo was content to just succumb to the darkness edging out his vision. He ran his thumb across the lining one more time before falling back asleep. However, Ingo didn't notice as he brushed against two letters. It would be hard to notice for anyone other than the true owner. They had practically been worn away at this point, and were now flush with the fabric of the cap. Yet, they were definitely there.
E-M
"It is not funny. In fact, it is verrrrry insulting that they got my name this wrong! I ought to revoke their subway passes, and make them pay full fare for life. I am going to remove it. Would you like me to remove yours as well, big bro?"
"No. I would like to keep it as a reminder of the time you wanted to do something nice for me. Besides, they did get the first two letters correct."
"Well, maybe then I will keep just the first two letters. At least those are right on mine too."