Chapter Text
“Can you reach it?” the outsider asked Volo, staring up at the sign with her hands on her hips. An unown perched on the Jubilife Village South Gate above, mocking them.
He scoffed. “I’m not that tall.”
The outsider looked around the area, presumably for something to climb. Volo shook his head and put a hand on her arm. “Don’t injure yourself,” he told her, shrugging off his pack. He knelt down and eyed her expectantly.
Her eyes widened. “You want me to…”
“I could perch on your shoulders, but I think we’d both collapse.”
She scowled. Volo had found, throughout their time together, that spite was especially motivating for the outsider—something he absolutely did not find relatable in the slightest.
“Fine,” she said, placing herself behind him and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Don’t drop me.”
“Curses, you’ve foiled my plans once again.”
“Shut up.”
She released a small squeak as Volo helped her onto his shoulders, then rose swiftly to his full height. He had no doubt that her nails were digging into the heavy material of his Ginkgo Guild uniform.
“Good?” he asked, taking a few steps towards the sign. She took a shaky breath.
“Yeah, it’s just hard to balance—fuck, okay—wait. We’re being dumb.”
“How so?”
“It’s a pokémon.”
Volo paused. “Ah.”
He lowered her to her feet at once. The outsider avoided his gaze as she threw a pokéball at the unown.
“The Survey Corp’s finest,” Volo teased with a lazy grin.
“Better than the Ginkgo Guild.”
He bristled at that. “The Ginkgo Guild,” he said, pushing slightly into her space, “was my ticket onto this island.”
The outsider’s expression shifted to something far more earnest. “I know that,” she told him.
“Not all adventures can be sponsored by God,” he sneered, even though he knew it put him completely in the wrong.
She knew it, too. Now she was stern. “Hey. We’re on the same side, remember?”
It was a reminder he still needed, occasionally, in the wake of their confrontation on Mount Coronet. He had left the Temple of Sinnoh in her company, having revealed the nature of the rift but not the location of the eighteenth plate of Arceus. He’d accepted her offer to bring him to meet his god, in exchange for his assistance with the Pokédex, for reasons he still did not entirely understand.
Volo took a deep breath. Nodded. “We are,” he confirmed. “My apologies.”
She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “How about being sponsored by God’s chosen?” Back on her feet, she appeared serious about the offer. “Quit the Guild and help me with the Pokédex full-time. That’s already basically what you’re doing, and you could make a decent income selling the things you forage.”
“This is still a very new settlement,” Volo told the outsider. “If I refused official employment, it is likely that I would be encouraged to return to the mainland.”
“Encouraged?”
“As you were, when the sky turned red.”
The outsider made a sour face. “I wouldn’t call that encouragement.”
“Neither would I,” Volo agreed, “but I was trying to be polite.”
He regarded the village around them with unmasked disdain, allowing himself the luxury of transparency in the outsider’s presence. “These people don’t deserve you,” he said, his words quiet but firm. “Why do you demean yourself to such subordination?”
“I get paid,” the outsider shrugged. “I like some of the people, and the research itself. And I can only really travel if it’s sanctioned by the Corps, anyway. There are ranks, and lower-ranking members aren’t allowed to go certain places or do certain things.”
“Those limitations are absurd. You are God’s chosen.”
“That’s two.”
Volo sighed. Recently, the outsider had encouraged him to limit verbal acknowledgements of her godly patronage to thrice a day. She understood that he had a fixation, she’d said, and she would never demand that he cease discussing history or even Arceus itself. But when it came to her own origins, she wished for as few reminders as possible. It helped her feel normal, apparently—something Volo knew neither of them would ever be. But he digressed.
“You should consider joining the Corps,” the outsider suggested. Volo immediately shook his head, just as he’d done the previous several times she’d mentioned the idea.
“Say what you will about the Guild,” he told her, “but I have always been given free reign of this region.”
“That’s because they don’t care if you live or die. You’ve said yourself that they see their merchants as disposable.”
“As if the Survey Corps are any different.”
Now she really seemed frustrated. No, that wasn’t quite the correct word—Volo searched for a more apt description, and found a modern phrase the outsider herself had taught him. She was pissed off.
“At least I’m selling out to do the thing I love,” she said, “instead of making myself miserable with a job I hate.”
“You don’t know what you love,” Volo argued. “You don’t remember—”
“I’m not demeaning myself to this conversation,” snapped the outsider, throwing his previous words right back at him. He could see that she was hurt and reached out a hand to soothe. She batted it away. “You’re already helping me with the Pokédex. You’ve said yourself that you’re barely meeting your Ginkgo quotas. You’re a skilled pokémon trainer and you could easily skip multiple ranks. You are not God’s chosen, but you are God’s chosen’s plus-one. Do the math.”
“I don’t take orders,” said Volo, and he wasn’t even sure why he said it. It had been so much easier, traveling the world alone, not needing to answer to others or acknowledge his own flaws. With the outsider, he was constantly questioning himself.
While he enjoyed her company and their work, he did sometimes miss the solitude of his mercantile lifestyle. He would never tell her this, as he knew she would take it as a condemnation of her presence, but it truly had little to do with her.
Put simply, Volo liked being his own boss. Accepting any other chain of authority would prove itself a challenge.
“Tell that to him,” the outsider said, nodding towards Ginter as he approached.
“I am terminating your employment,” greeted Volo’s boss.
Shit.
Volo was very careful with what he did next. “On what grounds?” he asked, his voice concerned but calm.
“Your performance has declined dramatically over the past year,” Ginter informed him, pulling a sheet of paper from his apron. Volo made sure not to snatch it out of his hand and tear it to pieces, regardless of how badly he wished to do exactly that.
“See?” Ginter said, tracing his finger over the monthly records. “Excellent numbers, up until here.”
‘Here’ just happened to be the month the outsider fell through the rift. Volo felt her gaze burning into him.
He swallowed hard. “I see.”
“I apologize for putting you out like this, but I’m afraid it must be done.”
No, no, no, no…
Volo felt his mask slip, desperation and contempt bleeding their way into his speech. “Surely the Ginkgo Guild mandates warnings prior to termination!”
“They do. I’ve placed several of them in your bin.”
He could not remember the last time he checked his bin.
“And beyond that,” Ginter sighed, pointing to the bottom of the paper. “You’ve hardly done any work this month.”
“I sold several items to the hairdresser,” Volo offered, knowing it wasn’t nearly enough.
“These numbers are indefensible, Volo. I’d be terminated as administrator if I didn’t let you go.”
Volo decided to see Ginter terminated at some point in the future. He understood the crime of embezzlement well enough to arrange a framing.
“I expect you to return the uniform and pack by the end of the day,” Ginter told Volo, who at this point wasn’t really listening. “Is that understood?”
“Understood,” he lied.
Ginter gave the outsider a sad glance, and then looked back at Volo. “Apologies,” he repeated, and walked away.
It was not often quiet between Volo and the outsider.
He shrugged on his pack and headed for the main gate of Jubilife Village.
“What are you doing?” she cried, nearly jogging to keep up. “Volo, stop!”
He didn’t stop. He reached the gate and scowled at the Survey Corps member guarding it. “Give me leave,” he demanded.
The man’s eyes widened slightly, clearly unused to such a hostile demeanor from his friendly local merchant. “I apologize, sir, but Ginter informed me that you are no longer a member of the Ginkgo Guild. Only those authorized are permitted to exit the village. A boat will arrive from the mainland tomorrow morning—”
Volo snarled and turned on his heel, restraining himself from physically bypassing the shorter man. Drawing attention to himself would be a mistake. He needed to isolate this problem so he could find a way to defeat it.
“Come on,” he heard the outsider say, taking his hand in hers. “I know. Just, come on.”
He nodded dumbly and allowed her to lead him inside her Galaxy Team-issue dorm. He dropped his pack on the floor and turned to face the wall, holding a fist against it to support his rigid body. He had dropped the outsider’s hand, at some point.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“That was not your doing,” Volo replied through gritted teeth.
“I know. But it still sucks.”
He clenched his fist even tighter. He was not used to having such reactions in front of other people—only Togekiss, and the pokémon he wielded. He had been so diligent about masking his resentment towards the Ginkgo Guild, towards Jubilife Village, towards Arceus itself, for years.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
“Can I touch you?” the outsider asked, her voice uncertain. “I don’t want to make things worse, but I know you sometimes like—”
Volo turned on his heel and took her in his arms, eliciting yet another squeak. Her body was rigid, as it usually was before she allowed herself to be comfortable. It was bittersweet in this moment, to feel her slowly relax.
“I will miss you,” he told the outsider, and meant it.
“You—what?” she pulled away from him slightly, eyebrows knitted. He kept his hands on her shoulders, grateful for the way her shorter stature grounded him.
“I am not returning to the mainland,” Volo said. “It is not an option.”
“So?”
“So I am to be a hermit. A pariah, the likes of whom any upstanding Survey Corps member ought to avoid.”
The outsider narrowed her eyes.
Volo scowled. “What?”
“You’re being dramatic,” she said, although her tone lacked any sense of derision. It was an observation, more than anything else.
Volo’s mind raced with the implications of these very dramatic circumstances, thank you very much. Yes, he could reasonably survive the wilds of Hisui. No, he could not depend on the support of the outsider, at least not in her work with the Pokédex. Therefore, he could not depend on her offered opportunity to meet Arceus upon its completion. Therefore, his original plan was once again his only plan, and he would need to get those damn plates before he—
“Slow down,” said the outsider, putting her hands over his. “Let’s talk about your options.”
Let’s talk about those plates. Let’s talk about a new and better world, where I don’t have to worry about getting terminated or exiled or rejected or—
“I understand the urge to burn bridges,” Volo distantly heard the outsider say. “You’re angry. I get it. I’d be angry too. I was angry, when they kicked me out. But you have options here, and if you’re too busy catastrophizing to consider them, you’re only going to hurt yourself.”
“You say that like it’s easy,” Volo hisses, far too familiar with the experience of having his feelings invalidated. “And there’s nothing for me in the village. I don’t care if it burns.”
“You don’t know that,” the outsider countered. “And if you let it burn, then you never will.”
Volo glared at her. “Then what do you suggest I do instead?”
And just by asking the question, he knew that he had lost. The outsider gave him a knowing smile as she looked him up and down.
“Well, first,” she said, with no small degree of interest, “we need to get you out of those clothes.”
Volo blinked. He knew what she meant, he knew that she was being clever, but her strategic phrasing gave him whiplash all the same. His overwhelming anger faded to something slightly less encompassing, although it still burned in a way that kept him determined.
Which… might have been the point of her phrasing, actually.
Smart girl.
“I doubt I will fit into anything of yours,” Volo said, nodding towards her trunk of many items. The outsider shook her head.
“Nope, but Anthe’s shop is right across the street. What are your favorite colors?”
“What?”
She gestured to his current attire. “I assume they’re not yellow and blue.”
Volo shook his head. “Not red and black, either.”
The outsider held a hand to her chest, clad in the usual red plaid kimono, in fake offense. “Volo!”
“I’m just teasing,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “And I will admit, they look lovely on you.”
She blushed. Volo counted it as a much-needed victory.
He knew, of course, that he had a perfectly decent change of clothing inside his Ginkgo pack. His self-made deific attire, never worn. Picturing the meticulously-assembled ensemble in his mind’s eye, he said, “White, green, and gold.”
The outsider appeared genuinely surprised by this. “Really?”
“Something wrong with that?”
She shook her head. “No! Not at all. I’m just… trying to picture it. Hm.”
“Hm?” Volo repeated, verging on a tease.
“I’ll be right back,” the outsider told him, already heading for the door.
Left to his own devices, Volo sighed. He did, admittedly, feel much calmer now. And while the outsider did not understand the extent of his goals, and therefore could not properly assess his options, he could at least attempt such a feat. He found himself reaching for Togekiss’s pokéball, releasing her as he tended to do in moments of duress.
She chirped reassuringly, barely missing a beat. Volo sighed and sat cross-legged on the ground, allowing the pokémon to curl up in the basket of his lap.
“I must subjugate Arceus and create a better world,” Volo reaffirmed, gently stroking the top of Togekiss’s head. She made a noise of agreement, amenable as always to his lofty ambitions. “In order to do so, I either must use the eighteen plates to summon Arceus myself, or accompany my companion to his domain upon her completion of the Pokédex. I have elected to delay the immediacy of the former in favor of entertaining the latter.”
It was strange, to admit it out loud. How far from his original plan he had strayed.
“But my termination presents a problem,” Volo continued, trying his best to keep his voice low. “Without authorization to come and go as I please, I will become an unauthorized person on the island of Hisui. Much like Mistress Cogita, I shall be a recluse. And I will be unable to assist my companion with the Pokédex, because her superiors will discourage any fraternization with a known exile.”
Togekiss made an odd noise. It almost sounded like scrutiny.
“What?” Volo demanded, his pets still exceptionally gentle. “Are you suggesting that I have another option? Of course I could lower myself to enlisting in the Galaxy Team Survey Corps, and that would keep me on-track with the Pokédex’s completion. But I do not want—I cannot demean myself to such—Arceus, there has to be another way!”
Joining the Galaxy Team would mean declaring his unambiguous dedication to finishing the Pokédex. It would solidify his commitment to this alternate plan, at least in the short term abandoning the tempting simplicity of Arceus’s plates. It would mean accepting the continued presence of the outsider in his life, as well as the many other Galaxy Team members he had not yet had the displeasure of meeting.
Or, of course, it could mean absolutely none of that. He could, hypothetically, just pretend to be invested in his work. All while single-mindedly scheming ways to seize the plates, convince the outsider to join him, and create his new world with haste.
It was the same approach he’d taken in the Ginkgo Guild. An approach that had worked… until it hadn't.
Volo groaned and leaned down towards Togekiss’s head. “Would you like to hear a secret?” he said into her feathers, barely at a whisper. At her affirmative hum, he smiled. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Togekiss chirped happily. Volo wholeheartedly believed that she was Arceus’s most perfect creation.
“I’m back!” the outsider shouted, bursting into the room with an armful of clothing. “Oh, hi, Togekiss!”
Volo stood up and relieved her of the stack of nicely-folded garments, all in various shades of green, white, and gold. Togekiss took her usual place on his shoulder, seemingly pleased by the selections.
“You’re the only reason I keep him around,” the outsider loudly whispered to Volo’s partner, petting all the way down her back. She then wrapped her arms around his waist, embracing him from behind.
Volo recognized that she was trying slightly harder than usual to show him affection and good humor. “Thank you,” he said, separating the garments and placing them atop her trunk of many items. “You’ve found… quite a few options, for me.”
“You can pay me back later,” the outsider hummed into the material of his uniform, “after your first official survey.”
He’d known it was coming. “Fine,” Volo sighed. “I assume you visited Galaxy Hall, as well as Anthe’s shop, during your brief outing?”
“Your interview’s in an hour.” Volo turned around to face the outsider, surprised to see that she was frowning. “Is that okay? I can always go back and call it off.”
“No,” Volo said, pecking her on the lips. “I appreciate your help. Truly.”
(He did appreciate her help. Truly. Whether or not he would accept it, was yet to be seen… but he did appreciate it.)
“I will admit that I have a rather vested interest in keeping you here,” the outsider said, pulling off his Ginkgo cap and throwing it like a disc for Togekiss to catch.
“Oh?” asked Volo, very much in favor of where this seemed to be going.
With his shoulders now exposed, the outsider could easily brace herself as he lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he turned around to press her back against the wall.
“Arceus forbid you spend any of our dalliances on your feet,” Volo teased.
“It’s not my fault you’re tall.”
“I would like to kiss you.”
“Yes.”
It was far from a snarky retort. Volo kissed her deeply, and by Arceus, she kissed back.
“I can’t wait to get you out of that stupid fucking uniform,” the outsider muttered against his lips.
And about that, at least, they were in complete agreement.