Work Text:
“Golisopod, return.”
The re-entry of his last Pokemon into its ball signalled Guzma’s defeat. Hala gave his Crabonimable a proud pat on the claw before recalling him, and walked towards the white haired man he was facing. “Decent job today, Guzma,” he praised, offering his hand out to shake. “You’re improving little by little every day, and I don’t say that lightly.”
But this time, Guzma just stared. Today he felt empty. Usually when he was upset about losing, he’d fling a few curse words at the old man and then stomp off and awkwardly return later in the day to practice or watch his former grunts attempt to sumo wrestle. But this time, he simply made eye contact with the kahuna for a few moments, his eyes looking more tired than usual, didn’t say a word, and just walked away. He registered the fact that Hala was yelling after him, but the sounds didn’t form words in his head. At least he wasn’t following after him.
It wasn’t a good day. He wasn’t okay, just as he usually wasn’t this day every year. But this time he didn’t have a distraction. The past two years Guzma had at least had half of a mansion to destroy, but now he was back in the same rut of life that he was right before Team Skull was formed, only people actually cared about him now unlike back then. But that only made him feel worse. Back before he had friends, he could be miserable without inconveniencing anyone, and at least when he was a Boss he could just pretend it was part of his intimidating persona.
Today he just needed to be alone. No one needed to have to put up with him, not even Plumeria who would probably try to call him at some point (hopefully she’d understand him not answering until tomorrow and not assume he was hanging from a ceiling with a noose around his neck), but certainly not any of the people in Iki Town who usually had no real problems to deal with on a regular basis.
Problem was was that to be alone tonight and not have a meltdown from his own thoughts, he’d need a distraction. And the best way to get his hands on his favorite distraction was, unfortunately, right behind the last place he wanted to be today. So he’d have to talk to at least one person - preferably someone who would eagerly do any errand with the slightest bit of bribing possible and then listen to him when he told him to leave him alone immediately. Hau immediately came to mind, and since he hadn’t been at their practice it probably meant he was still inside and so Guzma wouldn’t have to deal with trying to talk to Hala again.
He stepped through the door, double checking to make sure Hala hadn’t followed him (thankfully he had decided to turn his attention to some of the former grunts instead), and sure enough the young boy was in there. Hau’s radiating expression immediately turned to greet the visitor, and he smiled once he realized it was Guzma. “Hey Guzma!” he exclaimed, unable to control his volume level as usual. “You back from training? You beat my old man this time? You wanna-”
“Hau.” The kid froze, still smiling but awkwardly, somewhat taken aback by the unexpectedly flat reaction.
“Y-you okay, Guzma? You’re lookin’ kinda like Officer Nanu today!”
He chose to ignore that comment, and continued. “Hey. I need some berries. Uh… Figy, Wiki, Mago, Aguav, and Iapapa. I’ll buy you some malasadas tomorrow if you can get ‘em for me. Sound good?”
Hau’s face returned to normal, and he put his hands on his hips as he looked up at Guzma like a proud mother would. “Yeah, I definitely have some of those! Man, those are some good berries in battling! I see the old man’s been teaching you some new tricks-”
“Yeah, sure.” Without an explanation he immediately began walking towards the small guest room Hala had lent to him. “Don’t tell Hala I’m here. And don’t bother me after you hand ‘em over.”
He slammed the door without waiting for Hau to respond, hopefully hard enough that the kid would be too afraid to try to inquire further. Damn, that probably wasn’t the best idea, considering he hadn’t even gotten the berries yet. Grunting and hitting a knuckle to his forehead in frustration, he cracked the door open slightly and waited, until a small hand was finally done rummaging through a backpack and offered a fistfull of the requested fruits. Guzma snatched them, not bothering to say thanks, and then reclosed the door and locked it. He stood there awhile, quiet, waiting to listen for the sound of Hau’s footsteps leaving and the sound of a closing front door, and once he was sure he was alone, the man immediately threw himself on his bed face first.
“GUZMA, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
The scream was only slightly muffled by his pillow, and soon he found himself thrashing his legs like a child having a tantrum and tugging on his white hair as if his life depended on it. Once he had finished his physical outburst, he flipped over to stare at the ceiling, his breathing staggered and heavily through gritted teeth.
‘Calm down, you piece of shit,’ he thought to himself bitterly. ‘This kind of shit is what got you in trouble in the first place.’
He large hands fumbled to grab the berries he had sloppily thrown on his bedside table. Sitting back up, he began the familiar process ripping off the dry skin and crushing it to a powder, using his bedsheets to soak up the excess juices squirting out. He’d deal with the mess later. He only really had experience doing this with Mago Berries, but thankfully only the Aguav and Iapapa were particularly moist.
He pulled out the bottom drawer of the bedside table, which he had dubbed his “secret drawer” or “do not ever let Hau open this if he comes in here drawer”, and deftly pulled out the last two ingredients for his day to get better - rolling paper and a lighter.
He felt nervous as he evenly distributed the mixed powder in the paper. Apparently the highs each berry could cause for a human differed from person to person, and so he had only ever used the sweet Mago Berry - good taste, and a nice and elated feeling. Rumor had it if your body didn’t mix well with some of the chemical makeup of one of the berries, weird shit could happen.
But right now, he just needed to get fucked up. And being risky seemed to be the best solution for it.
It was a pretty fat “joint”, if one could call it that, and hopefully would be able to do the job. With a flick of his thumb it was lit, and he put his lighter down, laid back, and waited for it to start hitting him.
Pull.
Hold.
Exhale.
Jesus, it was gross. It was every flavor possible, and unfortunately the four crummy ones outweighed the only one he liked. He was coughing from the spice, recoiling from the bitterness and sourness, and already getting cottonmouth from the dryness.
He couldn’t stop yet, though. Pull. Hold. Exhale. Repeat. After a while his tongue went numb and so the taste barely mattered. He was starting to get thirsty, but he figured he’d start to not care much about that soon, either. The world started spinning. His eyes grew heavy, and yet his body was shaking with energy keeping him wide awake. The bed became a cloud he was drifting on, the room was a void, and fuck oh fuck maybe this wasn’t a good idea, this was a fucking trip, not a high. Should’ve stuck with Mago, he could’ve chilled out and taken a long nap, but no, his overdramatic ass had to delve into every unexplored territory at once just to escape from reality.
Blackout. He could tell he had just had one, for his position was different and everything smelled different. After getting a feel for where his hands were, he managed to prop himself up and against the - bed frame?, it had to be, or maybe it was the wall - whatever it was he was leaning on, and tried to process what all was happening. But there wasn’t really a way to describe it. Everything was blurry and dark, and his head was pounding and all he wanted to do was sleep but his body felt like there was an IV pumping caffeine into his bloodstream. The noodles that were apparently his arms reached up to wrap themselves around his torso just to make sure it still existed. It was like being in Ultra Space again, but if he was constantly possessed by those Nihilego.
Well, at least he probably wouldn’t remember today. But he’d have to endure the potential hell that was to come as punishment.
“Making dumbass decisions as usual, huh, big guy?”
There was a voice. From who? He didn’t think anyone was in there with him. It sounded familiar, and yet like no one he had ever met. Trying not to move his throbbing head much, he gave it a slight tilt and suddenly was face to face with someone that wasn’t there at first - himself.
“...Huh?”
He blinked, slowly, and yet there he was as if staring into a mirror. Except this Guzma was different. It was him a few months back, Team Skull getup and all, radiating authority. “Man, Guzma, look where you’ve ended up. Lost everything cuz of a kid and falling puppy dog smitten for a crazy bitch. Sleeping in fuckin’ HALA’S house of all people, back on Melemele where you started!” His grin turned to a scowl. “Fuckin’ whack, isn’t it? We spend two years building up an empire and you blow it.”
“At least he’s doing something,” came another voice before the real Guzma (which he wasn’t even certain he was anymore) had a chance to even attempt to respond. With another turn of the head, there he was again, but this time he wasn’t recognizable. Younger, in a white tank top, only a tuft of white on a messy head of black hair, in much better shape, wearing both a straw hat and a necklace with a flower symbol hanging around his neck and - oh, fuck. His heart sank as he recognized the outfit he had so often dreamed of wearing the day he’d get to be a captain when he was a kid. Captain Guzma glared in the direction he assumed Team Skull Boss Guzma was in before continuing. “Two years building up nothing, I think you mean. He didn’t try hard enough for the opportunity to be this, so at least give him credit for trying to better himself after the shitshow you caused.”
“Why bother?” The other responded. He was starting to get even more dizzy from moving his head so much, so he decided instead to just look straight ahead with blank, half lidded eyes. “What matters in life is the shit ya done, not what ya coulda. You’re a coulda. Success is success no matter what it is, and when he was me, he was succeeding at it. So why be anything except me?”
“Because you would have been nowhere without her.” A new voice came through, this one more professional, and thankfully Guzma didn’t have to move to see him as he appeared in between the other two. His hair was slicked back with no black roots showing, with a face lacking his normal tired eyebags but also any sort of emotion, and he was dressed head to toe in sleek white clothes accented only by the occasional black and gold. It was the Aether Foundation attire Lusamine had always promised him he’d one day get to wear with her - ‘mature and professional for someone as powerful and special as him’, as she had explained it. The memory stung, but embarrassed him more than anything. “Had you been able to protect your dear Lusamine from those dreadful children and save her from Ultra Space, your true potential would have been unleashed and not only could you have spent your life finally proving everyone wrong about you, but with the only person who’s ever truly cared about you. But instead you were too weak, as usual, and let yet another opportunity slip out of your reach and get taken from you by someone who doesn’t even have to try to be better.”
The other two mumbled in agreement, all of them able to at least agree with the final statement. He finally got the power to speak, though faint and forced, his body feeling as if it was drowning. “O-other people care. Plumeria cares.” He had so much more to say, but it was all he managed to choke out.
“Yeah, and tho doeth Mom!”
His heart stopped. He looked down as the other three figures seemed to disappear into thin air.
There was a boy. Much younger than Hau and yet almost as tall, somehow. Always grew too quick for his age. Looked fairly normal, scruffy black hair and a shirt with some bug Pokemon on it, with the only oddity being his missing two front teeth, knocked out too early by ‘accident’ and leaving him with a lisp until they grew back on normal schedule. He smiled. Beamed, even. Guzma just wanted to throw up, at that point.
And then the boy grew. His hair grew out and white strands from stress started showing. He was tall, much taller than all of his friends. The bag he held was adorned with the triangular charm signifying he was attempting the Island Challenge. And the knocked out teeth was replaced with a black eye, swollen lip, and bloody nose. The smile was gone. His cold eyes bore directly into his older selves’, showing emotions ranging from cries for help and a desire to stop existing.
“...But even if people care, no one really helps, huh.” The voice was starting to develop the same attitude he held to this day, and yet his voice hadn’t even dropped at that point. Guzma opened his mouth to respond, but felt suffocated, each attempt at speaking choking him further.
The ghost of his younger self squatted in front of him, and continued.
“Why do ya think that is, huh?” His expression intensified. “All ya do is cling to the people who tell ya they’ll care. Doesn’t matter what they do, only matters who dotes on you most, right, buddy? Mom. Lusamine. But whenever someone actually starts, all ya do is push them away.” He couldn’t feel it, but the youth reached out to grab his chin, forcing his attention. “You could’ve been there for Gladion but instead ya focused on a mom who treated him just like Dad did. You could’ve let Plumeria help but ya just had to get validation from someone older. Hell, ya know you coulda called any of my best friends. Kahili, Molayne, even frickin’ Kukui. But nah. Too dang stubborn.”
Tears welled up in both of their eyes. Maybe he was looking in a mirror afterall. In fact, he was beginning to feel the phantom’s injuries on his own face.
“What’s wrong with YOU, Guzma? YOU’RE everything that’s wrong with you.”
“Dad-”
“To heck with Dad.” The kid pursed his lips. “Dad’s a jerk. Dad sucks. Parents suck. Don’t listen to him. But listen to me. Dad doesn’t have to be right. You don’t gotta have nothing wrong with you. But you gotta be better. Ya gotta ask for help and ya can’t steal Pokemon anymore or help crazy ladies like Lusamine. You don’t have to be a captain to be great. Ya don’t even have to be strong to be great. Our dreams were cool and all but we can’t be sad about that now.”
They made eye contact. The younger’s eyes suddenly turned into some sort of movie. Dinners spent with parents. Dad drinking too much. Walking out crying one day after his Dad accidentally knocked all his baby teeth out. Catching his first Wimpod with the help of all of his friends. Every tournament they entered that they won third place in, got told Bug Types could never make it in the real Trainer scene. Every Bronze trophy as a result, and every disappointed reaction from his father. Wimpod and Spinarak and Surskit evolving anyway because he had faith in them. Meeting his best friend Kukui. Losing his best friend Kukui to Kanto. Meeting Plumeria. Inviting her to join Team Skull to make some money for her family.
Meeting Lusamine. Not believing Gladion’s warnings.
Meeting the kid. Losing to the kid. Again and again and again and again.
And then the rewind to that exact day, over a decade prior. Golfclubs. The day he got fed up and left.
It was like his life was flashing through his eyes. Considering he could barely breathe, maybe it actually was.
“Our friends like us. Our Pokemon love us. Do something good, Guzma. Make everyone proud of you for that.”
The ghost began to fade.
The room went to black.
-----
It was dark when he woke up.
Guzma groaned, smacking his lips and wondering why the hell his mouth was so dry and his head hurt so much. His face had been buried in his pillow, so the breath of fresh air was a relief. Him and his bed were coated in sweat, and there was something even sticker that seemed to be on under his stomach on the bed- “Oh, shit.”
As he sat up and saw the mess of squished berries covering his undershirt, it all came flooding back to him. He looked over and noticed that he definitely finished that whole joint from earlier, and upon touching his face, realized that at some point he must have attempted snorting some of the leftovers as well, despite having no memory of it.
After a few minutes of cleaning up and getting a hold on his surroundings, memories of his hallucinations flooded in.
He sat back down on the bed and cried.
And after ten minutes of sniffling, self hatred, and replaying the words Young Guzma - no, he had to be real with himself, it was him, it was in his head so it was all the words he had been refusing to admit to himself - had said to him, he stood up and put on some clothes.
It was still early enough. He just had to wear a hoodie, public didn’t need to be seeing him clearly for a few more months until Team Skull’s rep faded out for the most part.
Before he left, however, he had two texts to send.
‘Plumeria - Thanks for always being there for the grunts. And me. Especially me. I’m hella stupid, I know. Let’s hang out soon. I wanna hear how you’re doing.’
‘Gladion - I’m sorry.’
He headed out the door and towards Hau’oli City.
----------
Guzma headed down to the beachfront, the bag of malasadas in his hand. He had forgotten how pricey the treats could get, especially buying them in bulk like he did, but thankfully he had pocketed some of the Aether Foundation’s money and could splurge from time to time. Might as well put some of that ‘blood money’ as he often called it to good use.
They were there, as expected. He had heard that the two had apparently been spending a lot of time stargazing at night together, while the older told stories. At first, he was nervous to approach them, but he knew he had to at least try to take the first step.
“...’Sup.”
Hau and Hala turned to look at him. Hau smiled and waved, exclaiming “Hey Guzma, look at you out all late!”, and then beaming upon noticing his favorite food. “Aw, hoowee, you kept your promise, Guzma! I knew I could trust you!”
Hala simply looked at him, surprised. He was quiet for a moment, and then spoke softly. “Feel free to sit with us. We weren’t in the middle of anything.”
Tentatively, Guzma handed the bag to Hau before squatting in between them and looking at the sky. It really was pretty on Melemele. He had often forgotten how nice a moonlit night could look after years of being cooped up in Po Town. As the eleven year old began to stuff his face cheerily, the elder continued. “How are you doing?”
“Okay,” Guzma answered after a slight pause. He bit his lip and forced himself to go on. “Hey, uh, sorry about today, it’s, uh, been kinda rough, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back tommo-”
“Guzma.” Hala muttered. “I know. I remember.”
“...Oh.” He was taken aback. “I, uh. Oh. Really?”
This time, Hala turned to look at him, and Guzma could see what almost seemed to be sorrow in his eyes. “Of course I do. That was a big deal. Me and Tapu Koko watched it happen. I had to be the one to tell Kukui about it once he returned, as well.”
“Mm.” He couldn’t bring himself to respond. He wasn’t expecting that and he was worried he’d get choked up or start remembering more shit than he needed to if he continued.
“You okay, Guzma?” Hau suddenly piped up, revealing he was listening more than they originally thought he had been. He looked over at the boy, originally intended to just brush it off, but then that voice replayed in his head.
‘Ya gotta ask for help.’
He rubbed his neck, took a deep breath, and decided to go for it.
“I uh, ran away from home a few years back today,” he confessed, avoiding eye contact and trying to keep his head clear.
“Oh. I’m sorry, man. Why?”
Guzma pursed his lips and tried to prepare to come up with some sort of gentle explanation, but then a voice saved him. “His father wasn’t a very supportive Dad,” Hala explained, placing a large hand on Guzma’s back. The former Skull Boss closed his eyes, relieved but trying not to feel anything.
Hau paused for a second.
And then he hugged Guzma.
“Yeah, I feel that. My Dad left me, too. I don’t think he even really knows that I’m as strong as a Trainer as I am now, or any of the adventures I’ve had. But I hope you feel better. Dads can suck.”
He didn’t know how to feel. He couldn’t know how to feel.
But he did know that he was right when he said people cared about them.
“...Yeah, Dads can suck. Thanks.”
The three of them held the physical contact for a few more moments before they broke it off. Hau playfully bumped Guzma on the shoulder and beamed. “Hey, let’s battle together to get your spirits up! I’ve been wanting Raichu to battle Golisopod for forever, since Bug is super effective against Psychic but Electric is super effective against Water!”
Surprisingly, he actually found himself grinning. “Sure kid, but no one can take Golisopod down when we give it our all! Ya best get ready for an ass kicking!”
Hau laughed as Guzma got a shove from Hala while he grumpily mumbled “Language around the children, please”. And he ended up laughing too. He let out the kind of laugh he almost never did, one that the two most recent instances he could remember was when Plumeria made Gladion wear an ugly sweater for the holidays, and when a twelve year old Kukui got his nose pinched by a Crabrawler in a berry pile.
As they headed back home, he decided to check his phone, and to his surprise he actually had gotten two responses, and then another one he hadn’t been expecting.
‘Guzma - I don’t really know what to say but I appreciate it. I hope everyone in Team Skull is doing better. You guys were fun when you weren’t being annoying. - Gladion’
‘Happy to hear from you today, doofus. I’d love to hang out. Hate to admit it but I’ve missed you and some of my cute little brothers and sisters. Could you take me around Hau’oli? Don’t laugh but I’ve never gotten to go. I know you have some of that crazy bitch’s money still, so don’t try to give me some excuse. Can’t wait. - Plumeria’
‘Hey cousin. I know you might not want to hear from me, but I remembered today might be kinda rough for you. I heard you’re back on Melemele, so if you ever want to stop by, I’d love to chat. And now that Lillie’s gone I could always use some help! Haha, I’m kidding. But really, you, me, Molayne, and Kahili should all hang out again sometime soon. I know I left unexpectedly but those really were some of the best times of my life. And I’m glad yours is finally looking up. I always knew you had it in you, cousin. Best wishes! - Kukui’
Guzma’s pace slowed as he reread all of them over and over, not sure how to respond to any of them, really. He went ahead and decided to put it in his pocket and deal with that later. He needed to take baby steps to get used to this whole ‘being a better person’ thing.
As he caught up to Hau and Hala, his eyes remained fixated on the moon. Clear skies really were more beautiful than cloudy ones.