#it bleeds

Can there be hope for two bruised spirits? | Cont.

Hope? No, they had none of that, neither for themself nor any to give. Any hope Giratina felt would be that of her own. Arceus held none of it. They could not allow themself to hope. They didn't deserve a second chance, a chance to be a better creator, a better parent.

"I have nothing to give you, Giratina." they merely said, their face hidden within their hands, midnight black hair messy and carelessly tied now also falling into their face. A proper curtain to hide one's shame and regrets behind. "I wish I did. I am hollowed out by the repercussions of my own inactions. All I wished is I could say goodbye to them. And to maybe, just maybe, get to talk to you. Just a little."

The shadows beneath them began to grow longer, a projection of the bottomless grief and sorrow the Original One otherwise would always keep hidden deep within. It was only this guilt, this sadness that kept their white hot unbridled fury for the man at fault at bay. It was the only thing that kept them from blowing through other universes in their obsessive quest for revenge.

Here their daughter stood, infront of them, or at least a version of her, and she spoke of hope she craved but did not want. Another gutpunch of guilt, regardless of how powerless Arceus was to change the past of this particular iteration of Giratina, or to fix their own alternate.

What would it take for the seed of hope and love to return and root again?

They knew, for all Giratina knew, they might as well be a hallucination. A mirage.

Not real.

Maybe it was for the better. For her.

“That’s odd.”

“What?”

“You don’t look like someone who’s been in a relationship for a while.”

“W-what? What do I look like then?”