Scribble Hours

PRE-HISUI

What’s left behind (info)

IN HISUI

Emmet lands in Hisui (info)

Trying to find purpose (info)

An overeager fighter (art)

Meeting your brother again (ficlet)

What do they remember? (info)

HOME IN UNOVA

“Are you okay?” she called next. She had to know, she had to hear them speak. She had to hear them say yes—and if they didn’t, she just wanted to be able to help.

Elesa stepped into the street, the Emolga perched on her shoulder looking both ways for her. Elesa’s eyes remained firmly on the brothers.

“It—it’s me, Elesa,” she called over, taking another step forward. Confusion, she had to remind herself. They’d seemed confused when interviewed and they ran away.

She ran through what to do with someone who was confused. Introduce yourself, ask questions. If you know the cause, respond accordingly to try and help. If you don’t or if you don’t have the medical expertise to deal with it, call someone who does.

“Ah, Miss Elesa.”

When was the last time Ingo had called her that? He was always so polite, but they’d known each other for years. He hadn’t called her that since they first met.

Emmet put away the presumed smoke bomb and stood idly, though Ingo took a step forward towards her, and that was all the permission Elesa needed to approach them.

Elesa couldn’t help but stare. The scar across Emmet’s cheek, through his sideburn, looked relatively fresh (where had he gotten it? How did he get hurt?) Their coats were tattered, stained, repaired (but not dirty. The clothes beneath their coats weren’t dirty either, and in fact looked recently washed). Their hair was longer (Ingo’s pulled under his hat, Emmet’s pulled back in a low ponytail, both brushed and untangled). It had been some time since they last shaved (but the facial hair they had looked well-maintained).

They looked worse up close. They looked better than she feared.

Elesa swallowed. “Are you okay?” she asked again, her voice wavering the slightest bit.

“Neither of us are harmed, Miss Elesa,” Ingo assured her, raising one hand to tip his hat slightly.

There was silence between them for several moments. Elesa was running through what her first aid training had taught her once again, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

“Miss Elesa.” She startled when Emmet spoke. Had Emmet ever called her that before? Why now? What changed? She really needed to get them to a doctor. Or home—whichever they’d allow her to bring them to.

“I am—“ Emmet hesitated. He did not say his name. Maybe it was weird for Elesa to stare at the way his mouth moved so much, but she could see the way his lips shifted, forming an ‘I’, and then he closed it. He opened it again, and she swore he would finish his normal sentence like he always did, but he stopped once again.

“I am Hunter Kudari.” Elesa didn’t know what that meant. “This is my brother, Warden Nobori.”

Hunter? Warden? Kudari and Nobori?

“We have been uncoupled from our memories. We are trying to get home.”

Just like that, everything clicked into place. Elesa stared at him, eyes wide as she pieced together everything. Of course, of course they’d lost their memories. It explained all the—

It didn’t explain the strange clothes. It didn’t explain how much older they seemed. It didn’t explain so much.

Her Emolga chittered at her.

“I am very sorry to have to deliver this news to you, Miss Elesa.” She wished Ingo wouldn’t apologize. “It is very clear that you know us and my brother and I would be incredibly thankful if you could help us get back on our proper tracks.”

“Of course.” The words came out softer than she meant. “Of course, you guys—you’re some of my best friends. Of course I’ll help!” She needed them to know this. If they knew nothing else about her, she at least wanted them to know she’d be there to help with whatever they needed. With everything they needed.

“Do you want—

“Which name is mine?”

Elesa had been about to ask if they wanted to go home, but Emmet interrupted.

She should have realized she needed to tell them that. He’d literally introduced them with names that weren’t their own! He didn’t know to call himself Emmet, he’d called himself Kudari. Hunter Kudari and Warden Nobori.

“Emmet. Your name is Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.” His face lit up, the smile widening into something eager, joyful. All for something so simple: his own name. Something he hadn’t known for who knows how long (did they even know how long they’d been gone? Where did they go?)

“So I am… Ingo, you said?” he did not sound sure. The way he said the name, sounded out the syllables, made it clear the name held no familiarity.

Where Emmet was eager, repeating his name, repeating his introduction to himself again and again under his breath, Ingo hesitated. There was uncertainty in his eyes.

“Yeah, Ingo. That’s your name.”

He pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes. He did not look her in the face. “Thank you, Miss Elesa.” His voice was quieter than she’d ever heard it.

Ingo was not normally quiet.

Elesa took a deep breath. “Come on,” she said softly. “I’ll take you guys home.”

“I am Emmet. I have been waiting for this for a long time. Full speed ahead!”

Elesa was paying much more attention now. She rushed into the living room like a charging zebstrika, managing to slam her hip against the side of the table and jam her shin into the side of the couch in her frenzy to get in front of the TV.

She hardly felt it, not when the faces of her missing friends were there on screen.

Elesa gaped at the image displayed on there, not hearing what was being said in the video. Her first thought, despite the fact that they’d vanished out of the blue one day with no trace, was considering what concealer would best hide the bags under their eyes.

Dragons, they looked so tired. Ingo’s coat was in tatters, the ends shredded with no hope of being mended without practically replacing the whole thing. Behind him, she could see Emmet’s looking more brown than white, so deeply stained that Elesa didn’t think anything could get it out except perhaps a wish on Jirachi.

She startled when the impromptu interview was abruptly ended. She hadn’t heard a word of it, but all of a sudden Emmet grabbed his brother and threw something to the ground. A smoke bomb.

When the smoke cleared, the brothers were gone and the video ended, the news moving on to debate what could’ve happened. Not one word made it through to the gym leader watching.

Why did they run? Elesa could barely breathe. Where did they go?

One of her Emolga leapt up onto her, and Elesa shook herself off. Finally she sat down on the couch instead of standing in front of it. She never tore her eyes off the TV, but one hand drifted down to her Pokémon to scratch him behind the ears.

Elesa reached for the remote and rewound. She had to see this again. She had to know what was going on, what was being said, where they’d been for the last six months.

Why they ran.

She’d gone back a bit further than intended, but it wasn’t long before the video popped up on screen once again.

New details she hadn’t noticed before stuck out to her on the second watch. The scar going through Emmet’s sideburn, the fluff having been trimmed down but now growing back. The strange tunics they wore and the insignias on them made her heart drop—had they joined some team?

Or, more likely (and far worse): had they gotten forced into one?

When the interviewer asked questions, the brothers seemed startled. Even through the screen, even with their seemingly static facial expressions, Elesa could feel the discomfort radiating off of them.

Ingo started off all polite, just as he always did (just as he always was). “Ah, my sincerest apologies, but I must ask—what are you doing?” He tapped the microphone. He seemed uncertain. Elesa didn’t understand.

The interviewer asked where they’d been, and when they hesitated, he pushed, asking what had happened. Where had they gone? The world wants to know!

Elesa felt sick to her stomach listening to Ingo stammer out a non-answer. More apologies, more starting and stopping of a sentence that had no substance or answers. Glancing at the microphone anxiously, like he worried it may bite him.

And then Emmet acted, grabbing his brother and taking them out of that place with a smoke bomb. Elesa couldn’t blame him; she too wished she could avoid news coverage sometimes by just disappearing or teleporting away…

…but why? What happened? Why did they look so disheveled?

The chitter of her Emolga spurred her into action. She settled him on her head, though he leapt off and decided to scurry around by her feet instead. That was fine, she needed to get ready.

It was dark out now That interview hadn’t happened that long ago. Most people weren’t going to be out and about, and if the twins were avoiding people, this would be a better time. Nimbasa never slept, but the streets weren’t quite so busy at night.

As she grabbed her purse, slipped on her puffy yellow coat, and grabbed her headphones, Elesa considered what could have happened. As she headed out the door, a guess had solidified in her mind: confusion brought about by whatever harrowing thing had stolen them from their home.

Maybe some villainous team had captured them, done something to them (the idea was almost too much to consider). Maybe some team had tried to force them to aid them somehow, for some reason. Maybe—

Elesa didn’t know what. She could just hope that maybe the bright yellow of her coat would help cut through the confusion, help her help them somewhere more familiar. Somewhere easier.

Ingo recalls a Pokémon who wielded flames with mastery. Emmet recalls a Pokémon who slithered through the air like a serpent.

Both of them remember a figure like them. Someone just like themselves, but in colors they didn’t wear. It’s not hard to figure out who that is, but rather odd that they didn’t get the vague recollection of their brother until after meeting.

They both also recall a tunnel, a platform, and the shaking and movement of something traveling at immense speed. Whatever it is, the vague glimpse they have of it is fond.

And then there’s the longing. No matter how little they remember of their home, no matter how far it is, there’s a part of them that misses it dearly. Ingo finds it easier to relax into his job in Hisui, though he still seeks out what he can of his past. Emmet is not so complacent, chasing down distortions and anything else he thinks might be their ticket home.

They know they don’t belong here. Even if they can’t remember anything about their home—not where it is, what it’s like, or where they belong in it—they miss it dearly. They want to go home.

When Ingo and Emmet disappeared, it was a perfectly normal evening. They’d finished work, had some good battles during it, and made dinner together while talking about that and other things. Their plans for the rest of the evening were simple: movie night!

Except there’s no more microwave popcorn. Movie night without popcorn? Unheard of. Emmet decides he’ll head to the store, it’s a short enough walk, and he’ll grab some snacks (and a few other small things they could use, but didn’t need badly enough yet for a whole grocery run).

So he heads out the door, bringing just his Eelektross with him. As he’s leaving, Ingo rushes out after him, bringing over Emmet’s wallet that he’d forgotten.

And then it strikes. The ground under their feet shifting into something else. Nobody around to see except the brothers that got taken by it, leaving behind Emmet’s wallet and the pokéball he was just about to clip onto his belt.

The apartment door left open, because Ingo was going to be outside for less than a minute. Wet dishes in the drying rack, since they’d just been cleaned after dinner. A DVD case set out on the coffee table, the movie’s menu already up and waiting for someone to press play. Popcorn seasoning on the counter next to two glasses of caffeine-free iced tea and the empty bottle it had been poured from.

The abandoned wallet and pokéball are found later that night and turned in to the nearest Pokémon center. The open apartment door is missed.

Somebody goes to check when the brothers don’t show up for work the next morning. They’re always very punctual, did something happen?

Everything is still there, just as it was the night before. Almost exactly as it was the night before. Except a few Pokémon have escaped from their pokéballs, worried about their owners when their usual breakfast time was missed.

No sign of Ingo and Emmet. No sign of where they could have gone, no sign of why they haven’t returned. Surely they intended to return—Ingo’s wallet is still inside, their preparations for movie night still laying out, unused.

Then there’s Emmet’s wallet and pokéball, found on the ground and brought in to the nearby pokécenter. If someone had taken them, they must have been caught before they could send out any of their Pokémon—it would be difficult for someone to win against them, much less without drawing any attention.

But if there had been a kidnapping, wouldn’t Eelektross be more alert? More concerned about the noises outside his pokéball? He’s worried, certainly, but even in their pokéballs, Pokémon can witness things. Yet Eelektross is confused. When set loose to roam, to see what he’ll do and what he’ll show them, he merely circles the spot his pokéball and Emmet’s wallet were found. He’s searching for his trainer, but he finds nothing.

He imagined he would lock eyes with someone, someone from his past. They would look at him, shocked, and then they would speak. They would say his name—his real name, the one he’s been missing so dearly. It would slide into the place it left behind in his empty head, and then he would return the call with the mysterious person’s name as well.

In his mind, meeting someone always came with a rush of remembering things he’s forgotten. Though Nobori knew this was optimistic at best; he doubted everything would return, and maybe nothing would return at all. He knew that. He had himself prepared for the situation.

Or he thought he did. Until he came to stare at his own mirrored face.

Neither man spoke, and Nobori was vaguely aware of Warden Melli glancing between them, back and forth, from Nobori to the man he’d brought up to the highlands to meet him.

Kudari, Nobori vaguely recalled. That was what Melli had called him when he brought the man up for them to meet. He’d said other things as well, like how the man didn’t remember his past either.

Maybe, in the new version of the scenario Nobori was conjuring up in his mind, they would both remember one another, shout out each others’ names, and finally uncover the unknown things they’ve surely been missing.

But no memories surfaced. No knowledge, nothing. He was simply looking at his own mirrored face and Kudari was looking back.

“I am Kudari,” the man spoke finally, straightening up, shifting to stand on the tips of his toes. “I am of the Diamond Clan. I like Pokémon. I like to battle Pokémon. And I like winning more than anything else.”

Those intense silver eyes landed on Nobori’s belt and the pokéballs on it, and his eternal smile widened a fraction. “So let me take a moment of your time and begin a great battle where Pokémon clash.”

Nobori pulled Gliscor’s pokéball from his belt, and Kudari mirrored the action with one of his own.

“Thank you for coming all this way to the Coronet Highlands. I am Warden Nobori of Lady Sneasler.” He was certain the man already knew as much, but he said so anyway. It only felt right. “Do you understand Pokémon well? Are you prepared to handle them in battle? Is your destination victory or defeat?”

Why make a speech before a battle? It was simply the way Nobori had always done it, on the rare occasion he found someone willing. There was one last piece of his personal ritual he needed to add, a select few words in his native tongue that he didn’t know how to translate: “All aboard!”

Kudari’s face lit up. Understanding. Joy. “All aboard!” He mirrored, throwing his pokéball, his Vespiquen letting out a vicious roar.

Perhaps there were no memories, but as Nobori threw his pokéball to begin the battle, he knew there at least was understanding between them. Kudari knew what it was like to be in this place as he was—as they were.

He’s gifted a Diamond Clan outfit to wear under his coat at the same time they give him the name Kudari. Much harder to stain!

But that stained coat becomes tattered over time, especially with the dangerous (and thrilling) battles he throws himself at. However, he really does try to repair the holes. It still ends up tattered, but he does his best to sew up the ends and make it last longer.

Another difference in his appearance is that he’s taken to walking on his tiptoes. Where Nobori slouches, Kudari walks on his toes. When the brothers finally reunite, that distinct pose they do together isn’t quite identical anymore: Kudari leans back the slightest bit where Nobori slouches forward. They still fit together, but it’s not the same as it was.

Kudari becomes very acquainted with inefficiency, something that bugs him to no end. He can speak their language enough to be understood, but he cannot explain things well and struggles with finding the right words. He is hard for them to read and doesn’t know how to make himself easier to understand. He does not know how to efficiently do things in his daily life.

(The Diamond Clan’s desire to not waste time does not help these feelings in the slightest, though this comes from a misunderstanding of their beliefs. Time learning is never time wasted, but Kudari doesn’t see it that way.)

He wants to do something. He needs some sort of goal, some sort of task. There is some desire that is not being fulfilled and he doesn’t know what it is is.

Not until some Ginko Guild merchants pass by, and Kudari catches sight of some of their wares. This pokéball is verrrrrrrrry appealing to him! He knows this thing, despite how little he knows about everything else. This feels right in his hands. He knows so very little about who he is and what he used to do, but he’s familiar with this. He knows how to use it. He knows what to do with it. He knows it does not cause harm, despite the concerns of his fellow clan members.

He knows his next goal, and he sets out for a trek across the wilds. A small one. He will not go too far, he’s learned of the dangers by now (especially after his first attempt).

He needs a Pokémon of his own. Kudari knows this is the first step in finding his place here.

He’s very nearly thwarted by skittish or aggressive Pokémon, and his ability to sneak around increases dramatically in this short time. It’s when he’s on his very last pokéball—the others lost to escaped Pokémon, ones that noticed him, or other interruptions—that he finally catches something: a little Combee, one he’ll evolve into a Vespiquen.

As there’s no noble that needs a warden, Kudari swiftly grows bored with the lack of battles and everybody’s caution towards Pokémon. He earns himself a reputation for being bold, foolish, but miraculously still alive: despite the alphas he goes after, he comes out victorious, and he’s always preparing himself for the next big battle. He can’t seem to get enough of it.

They spend some time apart, not realizing what they’re missing out on—and anyone that could put the pieces together and realize that the two look identical ends up conveniently missing the other. Nobori settles into his role as Warden, while Kudari carves out a role for himself and an impressive reputation to go with it.

Eventually, they finally meet, and they are quick to settle into their new lives in Hisui, side by side despite the conflict between their adoptive clans. They part ways at times, Nobori for his duties and Kudari for his fights, but they always find their way back to each other’s sides. They may not know their names, or each others’ names, or anything about the place they came from except that the other was there, but they’re here together. They do not want to be apart for long.