Headcanons And Writing

Looking back on it, it would make sense. Every time he’d met her within the dream area it had been raining. Heavy or light, a downpour or a drizzle, the rain had never stopped. While he had taken notice that every now and then her nightmares would be worse, that she would wake up screaming and terrified and refuse to let him go, the last several weeks had been so much worse. She had, of course, insisted that things were fine. That she didn’t know what was going on, why she couldn’t sleep, why when she did she would weep uncontrollably for several minutes.

Ingo was also beginning to lose sleep out of concern for his daughter. He slept lightly most nights, in spite of Emmet’s horrific snoring - the only time Emmet was louder than Ingo was at night - and each time Akari woke with a nightmare, Ingo woke with her. Jackie had pointed it out to Emmet who had forced Ingo to claim a sick day and stay home to get some sleep. Ingo protested, but when Emmet took all of their shoes with him to the subway he found himself sitting on the couch and staring out the window.

The rain had lessened for the first time in several days and was barely dripping, the sun breaking through clouds. Subway quickly made for the slim beam of light on the carpet, eager to soak up sunlight and warmth before it vanished again. Akari slipped out of her room, clearly exhausted. Her eyes had grown dark and were looking a little bloodshot. Ingo opened his arm in invitation and she collapsed onto the couch against him, pressing her cheek against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. Ingo curled his arm around her shoulder in turn and let himself enjoy the peace. Gradually, Akari fell asleep on him, and for the first time in a while she was still.

And then the rain picked up again.

Ingo missed the first few twitches, mistaking them for her sleeping. He had been browsing his phone, looking through miscellaneous items for the house as well as new socks for work. The first whimper caught his attention, and then the grip tightening around him. He set his phone down and began to stroke his fingers through her hair, hoping it would put her at ease. It did, temporarily, but as the rain grew heavier and louder it ceased to work.

Thunder boomed, and with it Akari’s eyes shot open and she sprung to her feet. Ingo followed her up, saying her name before freezing.

She was standing in a way that he hadn’t seen in quite some time. Her shoulders were low, head hung down by her chest, and despite the fear she had been exhibiting in her sleep her breathing had also slowed. He watched as she took a deep breath in and let out a sigh before tilting her head back. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as they stood there, Ingo uncertain of what to do.

“Akari?” He asked quietly.

The worst part was that she barely responded. She just turned her head a little and offered him a small smile.

“You’re here again.” she said quietly. A chill ran down Ingo’s spine.

“Here?” He asked.

She lifted a hand to wave lazily in the air.

“You know. Here.” There was a pause. “I’m glad it’s never wet. It’d be worse if it was wet.”

“If what was wet?”

“Everything! The rain never stops. I’m glad I can’t feel it.”

Fuck. The rain. Of course.

Akari was babbling on but Ingo had put his face in his hands.

The rain.

How many years had she spent in a downpour, never knowing when or if she’d make it out? She’d said that the time in Arceus’ little pocket dimension was funny, that she couldn’t say how long she’d been in there because time had never passed but that nothing ever changed either- including the weather. No wonder her sleep had gotten worse, that she’d been struggling to stay aware of where she was, because it had been raining non stop for days.

Ingo pulled his phone out of his pocket, texting Emmet we’re going on vacation. To the desert. For an undetermined time.

CASINO BATTLES???? Emmet immediately texted back.

We’ll discuss it on the way. Book the tickets.

ALL ABOARD!!!!!

Then he looked back at Akari, who’d gotten quiet again, and hated himself a little for taking so long to realize something was seriously wrong. Something beyond a flare up of discontent.