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Despite Alola's humid air, chills ran down Lusamine's arms and spine as she looked out towards the ocean. She couldn't tell if it was her illness, the midnight sky turning the water an eerie black, or just being back in this dreadful place that was causing ice to creep inside her veins. She supposed it was all three. She jumped when she heard laughter, feline-like eyes flickering behind her for a moment, and winced; she supposed she should be going back inside, but she didn't want to dampen the joy of Lillie's birthday party. It was the least she could do for her, after all these years of her daughter taking care of her— it was humiliating. She should be taking care of her daughter instead of vice versa.
But when did you ever take care of her?
Her fingers clenched into the sand underneath her at the intrusive thought, and she drew her legs up to her chest like a child, as if it was armor. It was a pitiful act in itself, but it didn't matter anymore. Despite being in her late forties, she had to be watched like a toddler, so she might as well act like one, and nobody was watching her. Her arms folded and her elbows leaned on her knees, chin resting delicately upon them, watching the sky with a blank expression.
She didn't know why she came. There was nothing she could do to make up for the lost time in her madness that caused her to neglect her own children. Nobody wanted her here, she was sure— Sun and Moon watched her with wary smiles, and Kukui, Burnet, and Sun and Moon's mother were all terribly kind, but she figured it was an act. Wicke acted like nothing had happened, despite the hellish years she spent in the middle of a broken family. Hau was oddly shielding Gladion, who still refused to acknowledge her. The feeling was mutual. She'd always been worse to him than she was to Lillie. She'd been obsessed with having a daughter but didn't know how to treat a son, and she'd likely never learn. They'd always treat each other with detachment, she figured, even if they managed the feat of mending their relationship, though that was highly unlikely.
The murmurs of Mohn coming to the party caused her stomach to clench and twist even more, so badly that she had informed Lillie that she was going outside to get some fresh air. They had recently finished eating a rich chocolate cake, which she vaguely remembered was Lillie's favorite, though sweet foods had never been for Lusamine herself. She was a scientist, and scientists knew what harm that could do to the body if eaten too much; she had very rarely indulged Lillie. It was fattening as well, and Arceus forbid Lusamine gained any weight to obstruct her beauty. The small slice of cake she had threatened to come up with its sweetness and the new bit of information she had gathered, but she forced it down so she didn't cause a scene.
Lillie had looked concerned, hesitant, and like she was about to protest, but Moon had pulled her away before she could. Lusamine was almost glad. She had saved her the embarrassment of her daughter denying her permission just to step outside. The air, needless to say, didn't help her apprehension and illness; the waves were typically soothing, but the consistent rolling built up her apprehension, and the motion made her iller.
She had heard that Mohn had lost his memories when he went through the wormhole and was in the process of getting them back with the help of the International Police. He remembered his children. He remembered what he researched and what had happened to him after it was explained to him. Lusamine didn't know if she hoped he remembered her or completely forgot about her.
Did she really want to know?
She considered running off from Sun and Moon's home, but she knew her ever-present fatigue would keep her from getting very far. She could barely hold herself upright at times, so an escape attempt would be futile. She could only hope that Mohn wouldn't find her here, and Lillie had enough wits about her to not tell him where she was.
"You're all angles and bones, dear."
Lillie had never had much common sense, just book smarts.
She tensed, before hissing out, "Of course," under her breath, glancing back at him once before setting her jaw and staring ahead again. The one look was too much to bear. He looked much older than she last saw him so long ago, though it was more so because the light in his eyes went dark. She didn't think it was the lack of light outside. His eyes used to sparkle with so much emotion, but Lusamine could understand why they were flat now. He had been informed that he had a family he hadn't seen in years after a traumatic event that ripped them apart, and he could barely remember anything of his previous life and the people he left. It would take a toll on a person. Yes, Lusamine could understand that, more than she'd like to admit.
She let his words hang in the air as she struggled with deciding whether or not to respond, but finally flatly said, "Did Lillie send you?" Her voice was as sharp as she used to be and was pretending (and failing) to be now, though she hadn't meant to be so cold. She wasn't mad at him anymore. She had been for awhile after learning he was alive, but there was no use. He hadn't known there was a woman searching desperately for a way to locate him, all the while growing physically and mentally sicker and sicker; he didn't know anyone had been waiting for him. Her eyes didn't leave the ebbing tide.
She heard shuffling behind her as he trodded heavily in the sand before he sat beside her. She must have looked ridiculous, still shielding her body with her knees. For that reason, or at least partly for that reason, she refused to glance at him again. She also didn't want to look at his eyes again, for she feared she would remember what they looked like when he laughed. Her mind was foggy, but she still remembered unlike him. He admitted after another pause, "She did, yes."
Of course. It was mortifying, but she supposed he already knew. "Tell her that I'm not drowning and to enjoy her party," she responded dryly. She thought again of how hard it was to be taken care of by a teenage girl. Lillie always watched her like a hawk, and Lusamine guessed it wasn't unreasonable. She was incredibly physically weak, her clouded judgment got her into dangerous situations, and her mental state fluctuated unpredictably. For some unfathomable reason, Mohn laughed at the statement. She glanced at him again finally, confused and frowning slightly.
"I don't mean like that, though she did look sort of worried. I asked for you. She did want me to check up on you when I asked, though." Lusamine's frown turned into a scowl, looking remarkably similar to Gladion in that moment. She felt a flood of aggression, her breathing growing heavy, forcing herself to calm down so the situation didn't escalate. She mostly just wondered why he asked for her.
Licking her chapped lips, she tersely prodded, "Shouldn't you go give her a report, then?" Mohn just shook his head.
"Obviously you're not dead if I haven't come running in there screaming." He was trying to be funny. Lusamine would have laughed if it had been a long time ago, but she stared stony-faced at him, not finding the banter enjoyable. She had hoped he would take the bait and leave her be, but since he hadn't, she didn't know how to respond. Her tension was building and it wouldn't be pretty if she snapped, and Lusamine always wanted to keep things pretty.
She thought for a moment if Lillie had asked him to keep an eye on her and he wasn't telling her. She said nothing of these suspicions, but her once-predatory eyes narrowed accusingly at him. After a moment, her tongue clicked in a disapproving way— an action that made her pause, for it was something she used to do frequently —before giving into the excruciating small talk. "How has the progress been with the International Police?"
Mohn sighed. "It's fine. They don't think I'll get much more of my memories back since it's been so long since I entered the wormhole, but I could've told them that." He tapped at his forehead with a finger, grinning lopsidedly. "There's nothing up there anymore." His voice was sad under the mask of false humor.
Lusamine didn't answer, but he took it upon himself to continue. "Lillie is growing up to be a fine young woman," he said, pausing to scratch his chin. "How old is she now?"
"Fifteen," Lusamine answered stiffly. She saw Mohn smile warmly out of the corner of her eye, so she contradicted it in an icy tone. "And does she want you here?"
That made his smile diminish slightly. "I don't think she cares exactly. They asked her if she was okay with me coming. I've seen her occasionally before, so we aren't strangers...but it's still really odd. I'm trying, though, and since she had no issues with me attending, I'm assuming she is as well. And I could ask you the same thing, dear." As he finished, there was a hint of venom in his tone to match hers. Lusamine didn't flinch. Instead, she smiled a sickly sweet grin, but her heart was obviously not in it. Mohn, for some unknown reason, flinched. She must look terrifying.
"Well, dear, she doesn't trust me on my own, remember?" she spat, making sure to include more poison in her words than he had. It worked for a moment because her (former?) husband went completely silent. She was triumphant. The poison in her words was also still in her veins, still making her take sick pleasure in putting others down. It was somewhat horrifying to the conscious part of her.
Mohn's voice was soft when he spoke again, apparently regretting the biting tone he had used earlier. "Does she have reason to be?"
Lusamine chose not to answer. She didn't think she even knew the answer.
When Mohn realized she didn't plan on giving him a response, he shifted and sighed. "Well, she's become a very well-mannered young lady. You must have done something right in my absence. Gladion seems well too, if not a little grumpy." He chuckled, and Lusamine's breath caught and her back suddenly jerked straight. Her muscles tensed as a series of memories tortured her— grabbing Gladion's wrist and dragging him away from the labs with such ferocity a pop sounded, forcing Lillie to dress in puffy dresses, braids, and giant hats to imitate what she was searching for and becoming obsessed with, watching Lillie cry and beg her to release Cosmog. She remembered being one with the beast, ready and willing to kill her own daughter.
She shoved her face into her palms, tension beginning to snap. She heard Mohn inhale sharply beside her from somewhere inside her hazy mind, but when Mohn placed a hand on the small of her back and said, using her old nickname, "Lucy, are you alright? Did I say something wrong?" it was perfectly clear.
"Don't touch me!" she snarled loudly, her worries of disturbing Lillie's party long forgotten, though the chatter and joyous laughter coming from behind her didn't cease. She stood up abruptly as she spoke to gain leverage— she had to be taller than him to have the upper ground, her survival instincts apparently thinking she was in some sort of danger —but her body was far too weak and her brain couldn't focus on keeping her up. Her knees gave out and she crumpled, but not before Mohn lurched forward and caught her. It only made things worse, and she thrashed weakly in his grip as he set her back on the sand.
Though she felt like bolting again, Lusamine was smart enough to conclude that she wouldn't make it, so she settled on scrambling as far away from the man as she could without breaking eye contact. She was trembling like a leaf in the wind, her jagged nails digging hard enough in her arms to draw blood in an attempt to stop the shaking. A scowl was still mapped on her face, but tears blurred her eyes, and through them, she could see Mohn wide-eyed with concern (and perhaps fear.) She wiped at her eyes furiously, and for once, she was grateful that she usually didn't have the energy to apply makeup anymore. She would look like a Pancham if she had been wearing mascara, and it would have made the situation even more mortifying.
When she first spoke, it was clear and slow. "You don't know shit, Mohn."
Then, her words were firing like bullets from her mouth, faster than she could think. "Don't tell me I did something right, don't tell me how I raised Lillie and Gladion so well, because I didn't raise them." Her nails started to drag down, and one frail hand pointed shakily at Mohn. "I was losing my Arceus-damn mind over the Ultra Beasts, over you, that I forgot to take care of my own children— you knew that, right? I know you know they left me, but I stopped looking after them a long time before that. I daresay I shouldn't call them my children anymore."
She wiped furiously at her eyes. Mohn was creeping backward, but she wasn't finished. "Wicke had to feed them, teach them, and raise them. She may as well be their mother. Not me. I stopped being a mother to those kids when you disappeared— no, maybe even before that. You were always better with them than I was. I didn't know how to raise kids. Lillie lived with Kukui and Burnet for mere months, and they were better parents to her in those three months than I was in years.
"So go thank Wicke, Kukui, and Burnet for keeping those kids healthy. But don't think it was something I did that made those kids turn out so well, because that would imply that everything I did was right— and that'd make you as much of a bad person as I am. And don't call me Lucy," Lusamine spat out in finish, turning away from Mohn and facing the dark water again. She was still shaking horribly, her head aching and chest tight as memories continued to flood her. Her fingers knotted themselves in her dry blonde hair and pulled harshly in attempt to bring some clarity.
Mohn still didn't stand, which would have set Lusamine off again if she wasn't completely powerless and exhausted. All she could manage was a weak, "Get the hell away from me," but she was otherwise a cat without her claws. How weak she must look, she thought— paper frail with bags under her now-dull green eyes, set off into a breakdown by an attempt at a compliment. The thought made her feel even sicker; the waves in front of her swam and swirled, exhaustion taking a toll on her frail body and weak mind. Her head tucked between her knees and her eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to ease her nausea.
Mohn spoke finally, and she noted with surprise that he sounded choked up and shaky. "I don't think that's a good idea, Lusamine."
Her heart broke if it wasn't already broken. Despite her exhaustion, she laughed faintly and smiled strangely. She supposed he was right. He looked at her like Lillie did— a batshit insane woman and a ticking time bomb that exploded regularly.
After a long silence that she could only wonder what he was thinking about in that time, she posed a dangerous question. It wasn't one she would've asked at any other time, but her decision-making was skewed. Her curiosity took advantage of it. "Mohn, tell me... do you ever think of me?" Her voice was tired and she didn't lift her head, just shifted so she could see his reaction. Mohn looked surprised at the change in conversation, but when he opened his mouth to answer, she shook his head and cut him off. "No, that wasn't the correct way to phrase that. Do you remember me? Or do you only know what you've been told of me?"
The silence was deafening but it gave her his answer. She cracked a crooked smile again, but her eyes didn't water. "Figured as much. Well, Mohn, I will tell you— what you see in front of you here now...you didn't marry this. I'm not the same woman you married...Arceus, that was twenty years ago." Saying it out loud made it feel longer. How did she still miss him (love him, in a way) after twenty years of marriage and ten years apart?
She just missed domesticity, oddly enough. Lusamine had always liked the more extravagant things in life; who knew she would've missed simple family life? A loving husband? Two beautiful children, who actually liked her to a degree?
She rubbed her temples, before softly saying, "I wish you would remember the younger me. I was a very strong woman. I wasn't always this much of a disaster." Her lips stretched into another awkward grin before she buried her head in her hands. "Arceus...I really am a disaster, aren't I? I'm so sorry you have to remember me this way. I'm so sorry." And suddenly, she was crying again. She didn't know why she was crying anymore, if it was the finality of it all weighing in again, but she didn't care because Mohn put an arm around her and that was exactly what she needed, even if it meant nothing. It was bittersweet.
She shifted and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder, despite the fact she had yelled at him not too long ago. "Arceus, I wish you remembered," she said softly, ignoring how awkward having a woman he barely knew crying on him for reasons unclear must be for Mohn. She was selfish, always had been, and she wasn't going to quit now.
She barely registered Mohn softly saying, "I wish I remembered, too." Her fingers clenched into his shirt.