Vampire AU and queer awakening for these gentlemen in today's issue. Double Strike topics for two days.
"Do you know what Peculiarity and Demonization have in common?" Smajor said calmly, sitting down at the table with Avid and placing cups of hot tea between them. Avid's shoulders involuntarily shuddered, looking first at the clay cup with the steaming drink, and then up at the vampire sitting across from him.
"Not sure?" Avid answered honestly, reaching out for the cup and warming his cold fingertips on the heated clay. "Is there such a thing?"
"Oh, Avid. My beloved, innocent child of summer," Smajor looked contentedly at the flush that had appeared on Avid's cheeks. He was pleased that he had evoked such a reaction from the vampire hunter. "Six hundred years ago, the world was different. But we, as people call us now, queers? Queers have always existed. Perhaps we weren't mentioned, but that doesn't mean we didn't exist. And instead of recognizing that we were simply special, people preferred to demonize us."
Scott cleared his throat, running his fingertips along the rim of his cup, smiling warmly, his gaze fixed on one spot, recalling something good.
"Unfortunately, even among ordinary mortals, there's a disease called 'homophobia,' which is unique to humanoids, or rather, more socially human individuals. I don't know if scientists have figured out why only this species has this disease. I'll have to ask Legundo." He laughed a little louder, and Avid looked up at him like a scared puppy who'd done something wrong. "And the strangest thing is, this disease exists even among queer people. Internalized homophobia and the fear of admitting who you really are."
Scott rises from the table and reaches across, nudging Avid's chin with his fingertips and smirking slightly in response.
"Don't let stupid humans, vampires, whoever they are, and especially not your inner self, get this disease," Smajor whispers. His voice is like maple leaves being driven away by autumn. His voice is just as cozy, cool, and enticing. Scott looks into those dark eyes of the vampire hunter and sees the hope and the extinguished desires he's hiding there. Scott laughs softly, tracing Avid's lips with the pad of his thumb. "You're special, Avid. And don't let anyone, you hear me, don't let anyone convince you otherwise. Otherwise, they'll meet me on their way and regret ever touching my vampire hunter..."
Avid only manages to swallow loudly. He wants to say something, and Scott moves closer, wanting to kiss the hunter's cheekbone, but his plan is thwarted by the overturned cups of iced tea that stood between them. The hunter and the vampire glance back at the cold tea, surprised at how long their conversation lasted, then at each other. And then they both laugh at the absurdity and stupidity of the situation.
But what Avid is now certain of is that he is special.
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— Avid, your path is yours alone. And you're unlikely to win a battle with me. Let's make a deal. — The man's weightless hand landed on the vampire hunter's shoulder, causing Avid to reluctantly flinch. He doesn't know why. Because it was so unexpected? Because the vampire's voice was so sweet, tinged with melancholy? Or because of the strange knot in his stomach that Avid feels when he looks at Smajor's angelic face.
— You become one of us, and I'll flip a few switches with Owen and he'll forget about his disastrous speech about 'sprinkling the land of Oakhurst with blood'? — Scott says coquettishly, eyeing Avid closely. — Because, really, it's no good to anyone if mortals don't remain on this earth.
Avid starts to protest, but Scott's cold finger lands over the boy's lips. Scarlet eyes stare at violet ones, and damn, the vampire hunter never suspected such cold-blooded killers could smile so warmly and sweetly.
— Let me finish, dear, — Scott practically purrs. — Path - that's a very multifaceted word. About as multifaceted as a well-cut diamond. Path means not only physical movement, but also the direction of your values in life, your inner development. — The vampire lifts one shoulder flirtatiously, still smiling. — Think about it carefully, with your sweet head. By becoming one of us, you can embark on the path of self-development. Overcoming the obstacle of mortality. Transform your inner path. You will find balance in this life. And I will be by your side.
Smajor's voice dropped to a gentle whisper, and Avid felt like he might collapse on the spot, just from the sound of his voice. He gripped the aspen stake tighter, wanting to feel the wood dig into his skin and keep him from falling into the half-slumber this vampire was inducing.
— I'll give you a day to think about it. Tomorrow, we'll meet at this same crossroads, and don't tell anyone about this meeting, — Scott whispered tenderly, his lips lightly pressing against the vampire hunter's temple. — In a day, I want to know your answer: which path will you choose?
A moment later, the sound of bats flapping their wings could be heard. Avid couldn't contain himself any longer and fell to his knees, breathing heavily in fear. Scared that he was so close to going down the path of saying "I do."
— Do you know what a Demiurge is? — Scott says, deliberately sweetly, looking intently at Shelby.
The girl's pale red eyes watch Smajor closely through her glasses. She knew a lot, could tell a lot. She inhales loudly and exhales just as loudly. More out of habit than desire.
When you've lived for twenty years and breathing is important to you, after death, or a new life, it's hard to break the habit of such nonsense as breathing.
Shelby nods in agreement to the question. Something came to mind. But then she immediately shook her head, denying her knowledge and seeming to brush it aside.
After her transformation, her brain still couldn't properly form thoughts. It was as if a flock of bats were rustling in their cave, the rustling of their wings and the squeak of their tongues echoing against the grotto walls. She had trouble hearing her own thoughts. It was somehow easier to focus on other people's voices. It was a relief from the noise in her mind.
Smajor smiled warmly as he watched Shabble's confusion. Her uncertainty was amusing and interesting for a six-hundred-year-old vampire. Finally, he had a more permanent friend. He chuckled to himself at the phrase "permanent friend." It was certainly better than the fleeting mortal slaves who surrounded him in the last years of his life. Life had been so fleeting, albeit sometimes vibrant, but more often than not, he couldn't even remember the names of his mortal subjects.
— Anyone can be a Demiurge, if you think about it. Any creator, on whom the existence of someone or something depends. A sort of architect of this life, — the vampire said, drawing out his words as if they were the resin of some tree. Equally aesthetic, viscous, and comfortingly scented, yet dangerous to small mortal creatures.
Smajor, with a satisfied smile, approaches Shabble and surprises her by wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her forehead. The kiss isn't cold, but warm and friendly. So unexpected that Shelby first flinches slightly, then freezes in place. However, she calms down when she hears her friend's laughter.
— And so, in a sense, I created you. Created a new life for you. — Scott tucks a stray strand of hair behind the girl's ear, watching the realization dawn in her eyes. He certainly wouldn't mind having a sworn sister. Or a friend. Or both. — I never thought I could be a demiurge. However... here it is, a similar pencil mark, in the margins of our story.
— Oh, I have a large bottle collection, — Sausage says excitedly, opening a large, antique cabinet. Scott sees a pile of bottles lined up on the shelves. Of various sizes, colors, and shapes. They are also clearly filled with completely different potions and liquids. — I really enjoy collecting bottles, like a kind of collecting. That's basically what it is. — Sausage smiles coquettishly, pulling out one of the deep brown bottles containing some kind of viscous liquid, which swirls lazily as Mystic stirs it.
— I've lived near Outhurst for quite some time, and you know, it's hard to surprise me, — Smajor answers calmly, trying to look at the bottles without too much curiosity.
— Naturally. But I am, after all, something of a traveling writer, and so I'd like to treat you to something special, — Sausage smiles, reaching into the next crate. — You know, an old saying goes, 'Wine isn't born until the cork has sinned with the corkscrew.'"
The Mystic places the bottle on the table in front of Scott, and Smajor can only think that if his victims were served to him as aesthetically as M is now opening the bottle, he would definitely make the immortals his special subjects.
— It's recommended to insert the corkscrew into the center of the cork, — Sausage says, humming under his breath and mimicking his words as he inserts the corkscrew into the cork. — It's also recommended not to pierce the cork all the way through with the corkscrew, so that bits of it don't end up in the drink. And the drink itself, oh...
Scott hears the pop of the open bottle, a lovely aromatic bouquet of fruit and molasses escaping. The liquid carefully pours through the glass, slightly surprising Smajor.
— You know you're bright as the morning. As soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait until that day,— Mystic sings quietly as she pours the drink and carefully places it in front of Scott.
Smajor watches carefully. Even if it's poison, he won't die from it. It's not like it was an aspen stake.
— What song is that? — Scott asks cautiously, sipping the drink.
— Ah, so a song from one of the many wor.. places. Places I've been, — Mystic says calmly, smiling warmly and clinking their glasses as Scott takes a sip. — To the meeting, Mr. Smajor.
The vampire doesn't particularly like this action, but he forgives it. Because the drink truly does remind him so much of distant and pleasant places, not so much of those countries as of the times when he lived his peaceful and most perfect life.
Well, fine. He can leave this one alive. Or take him as a subject. As he wishes. So be it, Scott will let him make his choice, thanks to this cozy song and the delicious drink from such a strange bottle.
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Summary: After their first time on stage, Ray swore she would never return. Funny thing is, Vaughan's really good at making a liar out of her. But this is the last time, for real. No more after this.
---
Nope. Nope. Fuck no. No. No. Had she mentioned, no? If not, no.
Ray could feel her heart beating out of her chest as she rode on her bike. It wasn’t because of the exercise – she had been riding a bike since she was old enough to reach the pedals. And it wasn’t the weather exhausting her – it was spring. There were cherry blossoms hinting at the coming school year and a breath of fresh air for middle school.
And she was terrified.
Her target was up ahead, and so she stopped and hopped off her bike. Vaughan’s house wasn’t too far from her own, so it was an easy ride. She had been there plenty of times for practice and strategizing over the last couple of months, so it was familiar for her. That should have relaxed her, but it just made her nervous.
“There you are, you’re early.”
Vaughan was waiting for her at the front door, waving for her to come in. Soon her bike was locked up (it was her American habit, screw anyone who said something about it) and she headed inside. This was their first stop before they headed over to the event. Riding her bike was discouraged after they got ready – her stepsister would’ve been beyond disappointed if she stepped on stage with messy hair and gym shorts.
Not that she was planning to step on the stage.
Inside, they headed for Vaughan’s room. On Ayame’s advice, they had ironed and hung up their stage outfits, rather than shoving them into a bag all wrinkled. That was frowned upon in the idol world. Then again, the popular idols dry cleaned their outfits or someone did the ironing for them. For everyone else, they had to do it themselves.
Not that she would’ve called what they were wearing idol costumes. The stuff she saw her stepsister and her classmates wear was a completely different world. It was all short, fluffy skirts and ribbons with a ton of glitter and bright colors perfectly matched to the image of the idol wearing them. Their stuff was simple – jeans and t-shirts. Vaughan’s tie-dye was bright orange that day, while hers was a plain black marked with bleach stains and faded from wear. He was planning to wear a jean jacket on top, and she had picked out a vest with pins attached.
It wasn’t exactly AKB-48 level, to put it bluntly.
“I’ll get ready in the bathroom, meet you downstairs.” Vaughan grabbed his clothes and headed out, leaving her alone. If Ray reflected on it, it had been a while since she had been in a boy’s room. The last time had been when she was still playing baseball and had gone to her teammate’s house to strategize for the upcoming tournament. That had been years ago – she hadn’t even had a scarred face yet.
She was pretty sure she had fucked herself up at that tournament… funny how that worked out.
“Right… get ready.”
Ray frowned as she pulled off her slightly sweaty T-shirt and shorts. Soon she was as dressed as she was going to get, adjusting her pins in the mirror. One was her ever-present lesbian flag pin, while others marked her hometown baseball team and a patch for a local festival she had gone to frequently while back home. She had plenty of room to grow – but hopefully none of that would be for idol stuff.
With any luck, this was going to be her last rodeo in the idol circuit.
“Well, we definitely stand out from other idols.” She shook her head as she untied her ponytail to fix the wayward strands sticking out every which way. A bit of gel and smoothing it down with her hands fixed it as much as it was going to get – there was always going to be a few wild strands. It was part of her charm, or so Ayame had said.
Ayame had really prepared them for this. It was the most she had spoken to her stepsister since moving to Japan. Turns out, the girl was a consummate professional, even at an early age. Maybe that was because she went to a performing arts school – the same school Ray was going to in April – but she took it seriously. Naturally, she had taken them under her wing and had mentored them.
It kinda sucked she was going to bow out after this one, but it wasn’t like she had asked for help.
Once she was finished getting ready, Ray left Vaughan’s room and joined him in the living room. He tossed her a pin, which she caught on reflex. Confused, she checked it out – it was bright pink and stated “Newbie Idol, +2 performance” in an even more garish font.
“I made one too.” His was tie-dyed and pinned to his jacket. “It came to me as I was making my shirt last week.”
Ray felt the sweat drip down the back of her neck as she pinned it on – she needed all the help she could get. Vaughan was the better performer after all, so he didn’t really need the pin. On the other hand, she trailed behind him in multiple areas, even with all her work. The gap between their skills was as big as the Grand Canyon and deep as the Rio Grande.
Or maybe the Marianas Trench…
“Thanks.” She evaluated their outfits. “We’re definitely going to stand out.”
He grinned. “That’s going to help them remember us in the vote.”
Vaughan stood, stretching. “I’m feeling good about today, how about you?”
Not in the slightest. If there was something lower than ‘absolutely fuck not’ then Ray had built a tent there and was camping out for the next month. In fact, running away and never showing her face again sounded wonderful.
After all, it was her fault they had fucked up so badly at the Valentine’s show. Vaughan hadn’t been the one who froze and forced them to restart the song once she was able to breathe again. He hadn’t been the one to trip over his feet multiple times and forget the words. His voice hadn’t cracked, and he hadn’t run out of breath.
Why was he still so insistent on performing with her, Ray had no idea. He was more than capable of doing it on his own.
“You ok over there?”
Ray snapped out of it, frowning. “How the fuck are you ok? I bombed last time and made us lose.”
“That was last time.” He grinned. “This is this time.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who fucked up!” Her voice was rising, and her eyes stung. Her urge to cry her eyes out was increasing by the second, but she refused to let it go. Not in front of him, and not because of something like this.
She had done that enough the day after Valentine’s Day when she was alone in her room, curled up under the covers in bed.
Vaughan frowned, eyebrows knitted in concern. Ray hated seeing that more than anything. After all, she had agreed to this because of him to apologize for how badly she had messed up the last time. Already, she was messing up and making things worse.
“We both messed up.” His words came out level. “I forgot part of the choreography.”
“Yeah, but you recover better than I did. I tripped over my damn feet and nearly fell.” She sighed. “Look, it’s better if you just go on by yourself. People liked you when we were on stage. You’ve got one hell of a stage presence.”
He shook his head. “No way, we’re a unit. If we fail, we fail together.”
Then he nodded at the door. “Just trust me. I got a feeling that today’s going to be a lot better. We’ve both been practicing, and Ayame put us through the paces. I’d hate to give that hard work up.”
There was something about his confidence that confused Ray to the core. At the same time, the certainty of his words stirred something in her stomach. As much as it hurt to think back, she thought of her coach’s words when they were losing a game.
No matter if you win or lose, you go out there and put your heart on the line so you can face the end with no regrets.
“Alright. But this is the last time.”
Vaughan smiled back as they put on their shoes in the entrance area. “You said that last time.”
Ray rolled her eyes as she laced up her boots and tucked her jeans into them. “You’re fucking persuasive as hell. If Japan wasn’t so damn conservative, you’d be one hell of a politician.”
“I’m more a man on the outside than someone making policy.” He chuckled. “It’s the same for you, though. Once you get going, you don’t stop.”
Yeah, well… if it was worth starting, she was going to finish it. It didn’t matter if it was a fight or being an idol. That was what her gramps had taught her since she was a little kid. And she would’ve hated to prove him wrong after all he had done for her.
“Let’s just say you and my gramps would get along.” The spring breeze tugged at their hair and clothes as they started the walk to the bus that would take them to the live house they were performing at. Unlike last time, this was a dedicated space for performers that was busy on the weekends with underground idol battle stages. They called it Rising Sun – something about it was vaguely poetic.
Not that she was a poet. Vaughan was more of the lyrics guy.
“Anyway, I put our unit’s name in when I signed us up.” He walked with his hands behind his head in what should have been anime cool guy fashion if not for the fact he was wearing obnoxiously bright tie-dye. “Sunburst and Rising Sun sounds like a good combo.”
Ray found herself nodding as they stopped at the bus stop. “Yeah, they fit. That’s a good sign.”
“See, you’re doing better already.” Vaughan grinned and flashed her a thumbs up. “Once we’re on stage, you’ll forget all about last week.”
Doubtful – the memories were burned into her brain for the rest of her life. There was no way in hell she could ever forget how she had felt in that moment, dry-mouthed and with sweat pouring down her face as the music played. The urge to throw up and run away had played out at the same time. It was only Vaughan’s hand in hers that had stopped her as he motioned for the music to start over.
His hand had been warm and sweaty, much like hers had been.
“Yeah, no.” Ray rolled her eyes. “That’s not happening.”
That made her partner pout playfully as the bus approached in the distance. “Fine, then we’ll just make some new memories to balance out the bad one.”
Honestly, Ray had no idea where he got his confidence. In a way, it was annoying as hell – where did he get this shit? At the same time, it was weirdly comforting. Even though she had fucked up and beefed it for the both of them, he wasn’t willing to give up on her.
It was stupid, but she could respect that level of dumbass.
As they settled into their seats and the bus pulled away, Ray put her earbuds in and began to play their song on her phone. She started mouthing her parts, fingers drumming in time with the beat. It wasn’t a bad song – another cover, but not the one they had used the last time. Something about it felt better.
She still worried about how badly she was going to mess up. Then again, it couldn’t have been worse than her first time on stage. There was nothing lower than that – believe her, she had watched it on the internet until her battery had run dry. Yet there she was, heading towards what felt like another nightmare in the making.
Again – Vaughan had a weird effect on people. He possessed some kind of dark magic people skills, like evil charisma. With any luck, it might just convince a few people to vote for them so it wasn’t a total wash.
But no doubt about it – this was the last time. After this, she was never getting back on stage and it would be back to afternoons spent at home watching TV and struggling to learn kanji when she remembered to bring her homework from school. The last thing she needed was to become a real idol like her stepsister. One in the family was enough.
But for Vaughan and his crazy optimism and belief in her? She’d put her heart into their last appearance on stage. He deserved that much by sticking by her after everything had gone down. That was what… friends… did.
Yeah. Friends. That felt right. It was nice having friends again. Maybe they could continue even after she stopped performing. If not… well, it was nice knowing him. She would wish him the best in the future and watch him when he was on TV.
But that was later. They had a live to bomb first.
Summary: It's museum day. Jean isn't ready to face the second floor, but he doesn't have much of a choice. It's time to find out how things ended.
---
“Come on, it’ll be fun!”
“I don’t want to miss Canari’s stream for this.”
Jean felt the sweat bead on the back of his neck as he watched Lida and Naveen chatter as she practically nudged him up the street. He was hanging back, hands in the pockets of his jackets to hide his sweating palms. His mind was racing; he wanted to just run back to the hotel and crawl under the covers… but he kept walking.
“Is everything ok, Jean? You’re looking pale.”
Taunie was next to him, giving him a concerned look. Since she was normally so upbeat, it gave him pause. He shook his head, offering the best smile he could manage at the moment without wanting to throw up.
“I’m fine, I guess I just slept poorly.” He nodded to the two other members of Team MZ ahead. “Looks like they’re having fun.”
If Taunie didn’t believe him, she kept it to herself. “It’s not often we all go out together like this, we’re usually so busy with our own stuff.”
She smiled. “But when Lida saw the museum was holding a special exhibit on Hisui, she thought we might want to see. Something about the Hisui region having alpha Pokémon too?”
Oh, it had them all right – Jean held back a wince as the memories flooded through. He’d run from more than a few in his early days as a member of the survey squad. One time he’d even needed to jump into the river and swim away from an aggressive Rapidash. If not for the fact it was a fire type, he was certain it would’ve tried to kick his ribs to bits.
Just another day in Hisui.
“Might be useful for understanding them now.” He shrugged. “Not that I’ve heard about there being mega evolutions in the region. Though, that could be because they hadn’t discovered mega stones in Sinnoh.”
“Imagine what that would’ve been like.”
He’d rather not, thanks. Running from alphas in sandals had been hard enough without them changing form.
Still, Jean kept his eyes on Lida and Naveen to make sure they didn’t get lost. In a way, he felt like he was supervising a class on the way to a field trip at the museum. Though, that wasn’t fair to them – he was sure they could get to the museum on their own. He couldn’t help it; they were younger than him and it activated some weird protective instinct.
It didn’t take them long to get to the museum. Soon they were past the gate and on the first floor with the painting gallery. Countless oil paintings depicting different scenes and times in Kalos were displayed on the walls as visitors looked at them or read the small plaques beneath. Their group gave a brief look at them, but their goal was on the second floor.
Jean had already seen them all anyway. He was familiar with the first floor of the museum, just not the second.
His hand tensed as he grabbed the railing. It was still sweaty and moist, just like it had been since they had left the hotel. His heart was pounding in his ears, brain screaming for him to turn around and run away. Facing it meant facing reality, and he wasn’t ready to do that yet.
“Are you ok, Jean?”
Taunie was next to him, frowning. Two steps ahead, Lida looked concerned. Even Naveen had stopped watching his Canari stream for a moment and removed an ear bud to listen in. With the spotlight on him, Jean could feel the sweat trickling.
“Oh, I’m fine.” He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. It felt like he was dragging his body through shards of broken glass. “Guess I was more tired than I thought. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”
“You did go pretty hard against the megas!” Lida was bouncing. “If you wanna take a seat for a bit, there’s a sofa here!”
“It would be better than passing out on an exhibit.” Naveen had a point. They all did. Jean nodded as he walked past them to take a seat on the sofa while the rest of team MZ continued up towards the exhibit.
He just sat there, sweating. Somehow, he felt cold and hot at the same time as his heart continued pounding. For a moment, he worried he might just be having a heart attack brought on by stress, but logic stopped him. He was too young for that sort of thing, at least as far as he knew. The people who had heart attacks were usually double his age and in worse health. So, it was his nerves, nothing more.
But they sure knew how to put on a show.
“You said you could handle this, Jean.” He muttered to himself as he stared down at his knees. It was better than looking up and catching glances at the exhibits. Yet, he knew he couldn’t stay there forever. It was advance or abscond time.
So… he stood up and climbed the stairs. And what was first to greet him but Kamado’s armor?
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Sweat dripped down his brow for an entirely different reason as he surveyed the suit of armor behind glass. He recognized it, alright – the commander had been wearing it during their battle. It had been polished and kept well over the years, but the signs of age were obvious as he stared through the thick pane of glass.
When had Kamado died?
“That was the armor of the head of the Galaxy Team.” Lida appeared next to him, reading the tag. “Looks kind of Galarian to me.”
Jean allowed a shaky nod. “Yeah, the plaque says it might’ve come from Galar. Guess the regions had trade back then after all.”
He glanced around, eyes falling on the far wall. There, portraits hung of the heads of the clans. Not only that, but the flag of his former team was displayed for all to see. Something about it made his heart ache in the worst way, but he turned away to continue his tour of the museum.
What he wasn't expecting was seeing Kamado's kimono.
"Jeez, did they bury the guy naked or something?"
Naveen, busy examining the clothing, gave him a blank look in response. "It's a recreation."
Ah. So, Kamado hadn't been buried naked. What a disappointment that was... would've made it easier to kiss his ass. Though, that would require him to be buried face down. Then again, he was pretty sure Sinnoh did cremation... but the feeling remained as he gave the recreation a wide berth. He had seen enough of the real one to last him a lifetime.
"Jean, check this out!"
Taunie's voice called him to the wall nearby. Jean steeled himself for whatever was to come and was glad to see it wasn't more of Kamado's laundry. Instead, he was confronted with sketches of Pokémon he had caught during his time in Hisui, painstakingly rendered by a familiar hand.
"They said these were done by Professor Laventon." Taunie bent to read the description. "Sounds like he came up with the Hisuian pokedex by using Pokémon caught by the survey team."
Yes - his requests were sometimes annoying, but Jean had been happy to help. After all, Laventon had given him Arashi. He would do anything for the person who had allowed him to forge that bond, even if it gave him trouble. Thinking about him made his chest tight - he too was gone.
"Sounds like they found bits of it in Sinnoh. It's sad the rest was lost..." Jean's heart ached at the thought. All the professor's hard work, lost to the ages and the elements. No doubt it would leave him rolling in his grave (or urn?) if he knew. Then again, parts of it had survived. People knew at least a little about Hisui because of him. So, despite it all, it wasn't completely in vain.
"Yeah, but he was really good at drawing! They look so realistic. I wish I could've seen the whole thing, I bet it was fantastic." Taunie squinted as she read more. "Oh, wow. Looks like he used help too, there's mention about some kid named Rei helping him out. Guess even then the professors needed a hand."
The name left Jean frozen in place. He blinked as his brain tried to scrabble for something, fighting past language and time to win. He forced it down, just like he forced everything else down. Instead, he managed a smile and a nod, though inside it was absolutely stabbing him like a thousand knives.
"The more things change, the more they stay the same I guess." He glanced around. "I'm going to check out the rest of the exhibit. The stuff on the left looks neat."
Jean continued, past the pokeballs that made his hands ache in memory. In the end, he wound up in a quiet section hosting the satchel and crafting bench of a survey team member. They looked old, but that could also have been weathering. The note didn't say if it was accurate or a replication, so he was left wondering if it could have been carried by one of his companions. It was better that way.
"Naveen, they have clothes over here too!"
Lida's voice carried and caused him to turn. As soon as he did, it was hard to breathe. There, displayed behind glass and under the hot lights, were two survey corps uniforms. One was marked with a white bandana - the kind Akari used to wear. The other he knew perfectly well.
Guess Kamado wasn't the only one going around naked in Hisui... how the hell had they gotten his uniform?
Naveen joined him, examining his uniform. "For just a basic uniform, it's well made."
Lida took his right. "The sign says it had to withstand Pokémon attacks, so it had to be made of some really hardcore material to keep in place. What do you think they could've used back then?"
"It would have had to have been something that was common enough to make uniforms out of and be strong enough to withstand the elements. It looks waxed at the very least."
Jean left them to their discussion of his pants and sidled away. Soon, he was by himself at a recreation of the general store. It brought him a smile, even as his heart ached. If he closed his eyes, he could remember standing in front of it, buying his supplies, and catching up on gossip in town. All those people... reduced to names in books and gravestones turned into rubble.
In just a blink of an eye, hundreds of years passed. Where had they gone?
"There's a special section here they just put up... looks like it's a photo of a graveyard?"
He picked up his head. Taunie was motioning for him to come over. She stood against the wall, near where the mockup of Jubilife stood. There was lead in Jean's shoes as he walked over to join her. His heart was in his throat at that point. Yet he still walked over, knowing what he was going to see.
She was right - it was a graveyard in Jubilife, recently excavated. There were countless urns, marked with names. Some of them were photographed with details - Kamado, Laventon. Worst of all, a newer urn, younger than the rest but still hundreds of years old, bore the name Akari.
His knees threatened to give out. Breathing was hard then. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, reaching a fevered pitch as he took in the names. Everyone in the village was there, carefully marked on a map displayed next to the photo of the entire cemetery. The notes said the urns of the galaxy team were marked, but he would've known them by name alone.
"Jean? Are you ok?"
Taunie's voice brought him out of his spiral. He took a shaky breath, steadying himself against the wall. His palms were sweaty, and it was a miracle he didn't slide and hit his head in the process. Instead, he struggled to find a good lie for how he was feeling - there was no good one honestly.
How could he lie about seeing the aged, weathered graves of friends from whom he had only recently parted? That only a year prior they had been hearty and healthy, laughing over mochi, and now they were nothing but bones and dust in an urn? There was no way to explain that - the words just didn't exist.
"I... I'm ok." He took a shaky breath. "Never been a fan of cemeteries."
Taunie's eyebrows knit together in concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. Don't look at the next one then, it looks like it's one for Pokémon."
Yet Jean's head snapped around as soon as she said it. Taunie tried to warn him, but his eyes were glued to the paper. Just like she had said, the sign proclaimed the excavation site had discovered graves for the beloved Pokémon of the Galaxy Expedition, gone to join their partners in rest. His eyes were a blur as he scanned the names, heart pounding.
Arashi - Typhlosion. Partner to Rei - body never recovered from Mt. Sinnoh. Pokémon retrieved.
"They found him..."
Tears slid down his face without meaning to and then it was a storm. He couldn't stop crying, no matter how hard he tried. Sorrow and relief washed over him in waves until it created a flood that threatened to wash him away. He couldn't focus on just one emotion to feel, so they hit him all at once with the wrath of an alpha Pokémon.
Arashi was long dead now, without a partner of his own to comfort him in the afterlife. How had he felt, growing old alone? Had he looked for him, waiting for the day he would return? Or had he known that his partner was never coming home? He must have, after the battle with Arceus had concluded. He had been the one to land the final blow against the god.
Someone had found him though. Someone had found all his Pokémon, brought them home and tended their wounds. They had lived and died in Jubilife, around the team that had watched them grow. Their descendants could still be in Sinnoh, running and swimming through the lands of their ancestors.
They had made it off the mountain.
"Jean, what's wrong?" Taunie's voice was high with fear. At this point, Lida and Naveen had run over. "I don't know what's wrong with him, he just started crying after he said he didn't like cemeteries!"
It was too hard to even speak at that moment. Instead, he allowed himself to be led away to the stairs, where the sofa was waiting. Someone - maybe it was Lida? - nudged him into the seat. Then he sat there as the tears continued to flow, shoulders shaking from repressed sobs.
His belt vibrated, and then something popped open. A hand found his, hot and clawed. He wiped his eyes for the moment and glanced up. A Pignite was standing there, snuffling in concern at the sight of his trainer looking so pathetic. Steve, despite being a fire-fighting type, was sensitive that way.
It was nice that evolution hadn't taken that part of him.
"I'm ok, buddy." Tears still flowed from his eyes. "I'm..."
And then he was holding on to Steve for dear life. His Pokémon, though he was weak to water, didn't seem to mind. Instead, he stayed there, heart strong and steady as Jean sniffled and cried. There was something soothing about his warmth - familiar, comforting.
It wasn't the same as Arashi's. Arashi had run a little cool, due to being part ghost-type and the souls he often ate when he wandered out of the house after midnight. Instead, Steve reminded him of a hot water bottle, the kind that people used to tuck into bed with them on a chilly night.
He was alive.
"Thanks, Steve." He sniffled, rubbing his eyes again. His glasses were a sopping mess, so he would have to clean them later. "Guess everything just hit me at once."
The Pignite snuffled, nudging his nose against the frames of his glasses. He left an imprint of his snout on one of the lenses and fogged up the other due to his body heat. Something about it made Jean chuckle as he reached out to pet the Pokémon between his ears.
"Yeah, I should clean those so I can see. Thanks for the help."
A quick wipe on his shirt, and they were as clean as they were going to get. Jean popped them back onto his face, only to be reminded that he and Steve weren't alone. Taunie, Lida, and Naveen were still standing around them, faces ranging from confused to concerned. He felt color enter his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Boy, he had stepped in it.
"Are you ok?" Taunie sounded nervous. "You kind of had a breakdown there."
Jean nodded as he stood. "Yeah, lot of bad memories around cemeteries. Guess all the work with the megas compounded things. Sorry about that, really."
"You have been doing most of the work." Naveen, always to the point. He wasn't watching his stream either - Canari must have finished. "We should head back."
That led Lida to shake her head. "But we said we were going to go to that cafe that does Hisuian food."
He knew the one - he and Steve had been by it previously. The thought of potato mochi was a strange comfort in that moment as he glanced back towards the picture of the excavation site. Somewhere, in some afterlife, his Pokémon and friends were no doubt watching on. Hopefully, they had mochi too.
He should bring them some once everything finished in Lumiose. It had been a while since he had been in Jubilife.
"I could go for some potato mochi right now if you guys still want some. I owe Steve some anyway for how well he did in the last battle."
Lida beamed. "Alright, potato mochi! I heard you can get it with cheese!"
"Cheese in mochi?" Naveen sounded as disgusted as he felt. "I think I'll go for plain."
Taunie seemed in higher spirits as they started out. "I'll share the cheese mochi with you, Lida. The guys can split the plain kind if they want."
Good - save the nasty, apocryphal cheese mochi for them. He wanted the good stuff, straight from Beni's recipe book. If he couldn't get it from the man himself, a close enough approximation was fine. Besides, he was feeling the urge to drink some green tea right then - a good cup would do wonders for his nerves.
Strangely, Jean felt a little lighter as they left the museum and set off for the cafe. It still hurt to see how things had ended, but in a way, it brought things to a close. One of his deepest worries had been soothed at long last, so for the first time in ages he felt like he could breathe freely.
Once everything was over, he knew what he had to do. There would be graves to visit and incense to light. He would have a plate of mochi at Akari's gravesite, sharing the snack with an old friend at her final resting place. But to do that, he had to help Lumiose first.
Present, then past. It was weird, reversing the order of things, but when had his life ever been normal?
Summary: The number one thing Holly hates about her hometown is that nothing is accessible. Ravensbeak University is no different. But it seems... more off than usual today. The fuck?
---
The worst part about being on Ravensbeak was the fact that the maps didn’t respond to her.
Holly scowled as she pushed the button for the non-magical activation signal. It was primarily for children not old enough to produce magic, so it was low to the ground. She didn’t especially enjoy doubling over, but it wasn’t like she had other options. Unlike the rest of the world, she had no magic of her own.
And she never would. The doctor had made that clear.
“Come on, damn it…” She kept punching the button, trying to get the screen to change. It continued to display the full map, rather than the one that linked to her specific location. She needed the second one – her sense of direction was terrible. “I thought colleges were supposed to be accessible…”
In the end, Holly had to admit defeat. The button was broken, probably from over-eager pressing from the under 3 set. It was the case for most of the buttons in the capital city – nobody really thought about fixing them. After all, kids that young almost always had adults with them that could trigger the sensors and make shit work. At that point, it was a placebo effect to make the kids think they were doing something useful.
Great for them, not so much for her.
“Ugh, forget it.” She threw up her hands, backing up in order to wait for someone to pass by and trigger the screen to change. It wouldn’t take long – it was a college campus. Somebody would run by on their way to class sooner or later. She just had to wait until that point and then sprint over before it timed out.
Technically, she didn’t need to be there. After all, her training with Rose had been cut off due to the diagnosis of her Orange Elm Syndrome. There was no need to have lessons on controlling her magic when she couldn’t do it anymore. Yet, she found herself going anyway, if only to make sure the idol was ok with how things ended. Normally she wouldn’t have cared… but something about her kept Holly coming back.
It didn’t happen much to her, so she wanted to keep it in check.
Luckily, after a few moments of waiting two students passed, triggering the map. As Holly sprinted to check directions, she was able to hear their conversation. It was a low mutter, but her elven hearing picked it up like they were shouting next to her.
“They’ve canceled classes for the afternoon and cordoned the area off until they’ve finished investigating.”
“Why would they do that? Do you think it was stress?”
“Who knows, my classes say that it’s hard to tell with some people. I don’t think they were a student, though. It didn’t trigger the failsafe.”
Something about that made Holly’s stomach churn as she selected the building she wanted to go to – Silver Hall. Or at least, she tried to pick it. The map stubbornly refused to change, no matter how she prodded it. At least it showed where she was heading – straight up, then a right by the library, then go on until she saw the building.
Even for her, it was understandable.
“Alright, guess I’m heading that way.” Holly started walking, hands in the pockets of her jacket to ward off the fall chill. It was shaping up to be a cold one, based on the weather witch’s predictions on the news. She was rarely wrong, which meant she’d be pulling her leather jacket over her hoodie soon.
She hated cold and snow – it came from having a dragon for a mother. Rachel’s productivity went into the basement once the winter months took over, requiring a heat lamp both at home and at work to stay awake to work. Had she not had a job or family, she would have returned to her cave high in the mountains to hibernate. Honestly, it didn’t sound like a bad idea. She was only half dragon, but she slept hard during the winter too.
Or maybe that was the depression they had diagnosed her with in the hospital.
Either way, she kept going, making the right at the library as required. There were students there too, muttering to themselves as they grouped together in packs. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up as she passed, catching bits of their conversation.
“They said it’s a mess.”
“I didn’t think it was high enough for that to work.”
“No doubt they’ll be putting up rails by finals.”
Holly frowned as she walked past, stomach still churning. Whatever had happened, it was bad. She had no idea what could happen on a college campus that would make the whole school cancel class, mostly because she had only graduated high school. Working with Rose was the first time she had ever stepped on a college campus, and the result left her even more uninterested in taking classes.
What could she say – she was an idiot who knew what she was good at. School just wasn’t for her.
Much to her surprise, there was activity surrounding Silver Hall as she caught sight of the building. The people gathered around the entrance didn’t look like students either. They were wearing dark uniforms or suits, though she couldn’t tell for what since their backs were turned. Everything was roped off with yellow caution tape, cordoning off the area.
She sped up to a run, lungs burning as she made it to the front. As it turned out, the dark uniforms belonged to the local police department, and the one in a suit had a gold badge – a detective. That didn’t matter, however, as she got a good view of what they were surrounding.
There was a white cloth spread over a lump of… something. Her stomach churned as she saw the blood seeping out from underneath, staining the cloth white. Something dark was on the ground as well, wet looking and squishy.
“Oh fuck, is that somebody’s brain?”
Throwing up sounded like a great idea as her heart began to pound. Nobody responded to her shock, however. Instead, a uniformed officer came out the door, carrying a bag by the straps as they approached.
It was the same bag Holly had on her back.
“We found this on the roof, sir.” They opened up the bag and pulled out a notebook. “Looks like she left a note.”
The detective sighed as he accepted the note. “Sounds like we got a jumper. Poor kid, she didn’t look older than 16. What was she doing on a college campus?”
“Her ID says she was 20. I asked the students inside, they said she wasn’t a student, but she had been taking control lessons with one of their first years.” Another officer shook their head. “Who ever heard of someone taking beginner lessons at 20?”
Another sigh. “Well, she’s not taking them now. I’ll check to make sure she matches the ID.”
The detective moved forward, grasping at the cloth. Holly’s brain screamed for him to put it down, but her mouth refused to open, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. She could do nothing but watch as they pulled it away, exposing what it had been covering.
It was a body, broken and laying on its side. The back of its head was smashed open, showing the contents of a destroyed brain. From the blood spatter, it had bounced before landing in its current position.
She knew that body, with the messy hair that never cooperated and the pale skin brone to rashes. The wide eyes, clouded in death and bruised from the remains of its brain bouncing against the pavement were orange.
The body was wearing her clothes and her face.
“Looks like it matches the ID. She’s been through it, the kid in the photo looks so much happier.” The detective sighed as they pulled the cloth back over. “May the gods take you somewhere peaceful, Holly.”
Then they straightened up. “I think we’re done here, we can pack up the body and ship it to the morgue for collection by the family. Hopefully they can clean her up enough that her parents don’t take it quite as hard.”
“They always take it hard.” The officer reached for their phone to make the call. “Saffron? We’re at the scene. It was a jumper. Can we get a pickup to the morgue and the cleanup crew?”
Holly could only watch as the detectives set up a perimeter around the body – her body. It made sense why nobody could see or hear her now – she was dead. In a weird way, it confirmed her atheist beliefs. No afterlife was opening up for her, no ferryman was coming to collect her to take her away.
Rejected by life, alone in death. Wasn’t that how it always ended.
“Fuck.” Her legs gave out, and she dropped to the ground. The detective passed right through her, heading off to make some calls – probably to her family. They wouldn’t be able to get her father – no service in the Scales. Her mother would be so busy at work she wouldn’t get the call.
That left Dan. Her brother was going to have to identify her body. After their fight, it was going to destroy him.
Tears sprung into her eyes as she sat there, next to the broken body that used to be hers. She was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. It had all ended in one moment, just like she had hoped.
Had it hurt when she died? Had she survived the initial fall, only to bleed out? Or had it been immediate as she hit the ground? There was no way to tell, so all she could do as stare at the stained cloth.
If only she could take it back. If only…
“Miss, we’re at the last stop.”
---
Holly’s eyes snapped open as she sat up in her seat. The bus was empty, parked in front of Ravensbeak. To her left, a concerned looking bus driver was standing there, hand on their phone in case of a medical emergency.
Everything hurt as she rubbed her forehead, red from having pressed it against the glass. The exhaustion had dropped over her without realizing, and she realized she had fallen asleep during the ride.
“Everything alright miss? You’re not lost, are you?”
She shook her head, standing – her joints cracked and she groaned. “Nope, I’m not lost. This is where I wanted to be.”
Holly paused for a second. “Er, thanks for checking on me though. Have a good rest of your day?”
That satisfied the bus driver, so they went to the front to start the trip back. She got off the bus, joints still aching as she touched down on the sidewalk. Ravensbeak loomed in front of her as she started to walk.
She didn’t need the map this time – the directions were burned into her brain. The students paid her no mind as they chatted about their classes or homework assignments, absorbed in their studies. No one mentioned anything bad happened – they were just going about their day.
The sight of Silver Hall made her stomach twist. Yet, there were no gathered cops, or body under a cloth. Instead, it looked absolutely normal. Still, she avoided the space her body had laid on, heading instead for the door.
Much to her surprise, it opened before she could touch it. Holly had to jump to the side to avoid getting mowed down. She watched a Rose sprinted through the door, sweat dripping down her mint-green skin as she glanced around with wide eyes. When she saw nothing, she let out a sigh and her shoulders slumped.
And then she saw who she had almost knocked out.
“Holly!” There was panic in her voice, that soon relaxed. “Oh, thank the gods.”
All she could do was wave. “Everything ok?”
The idol managed a grin, but there was still a tension in her frame. “Guess I’m still a little shaky from a couple days ago.”
Right… Holly had almost jumped that day. Pure spite had kept her from going over the edge – thanks Coral. Instead, Rose had found her sitting there, transcribing the song that had saved her life. She still had it in her notebook, almost finished and waiting for analysis.
So far? It was shitty. Talk about hack work.
“Yeah… sorry.” She frowned. “I’m starting therapy next week.”
That made Rose smile briefly. “That’s good to hear. I’d hate…”
She shook her head. “It’s good to see you. Not sure why you’re here though, we had to cancel lessons.”
Good question – Holly still didn’t know why she had come. It wasn’t like they were close – in her thoughts, they were barely acquantinces. Once the lessons ended, she should have left and never come back. Yet, there she was, standing in front of Silver Hall and the idol who had tried her best to teach her about magic.
“I…” She glanced around. “I guess I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
Rose shook her head in response. “You’re the one who nearly jumped. I should be asking you that.”
“I know how I feel, it’s you I’m worried about.” Holly rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding her tangled ponytail. She really needed to shower and brush her hair… gross. “Look, I can fuck off if I’m bothering you. You don’t even need to tell me to go.”
She turned to leave, feeling rather stupid. However, a hand kept her from going. It was green, with painted nails and a silver bracelet with the symbol of a nature god she didn’t remember. That caused her to turn around and face the idol.
Rose took her hand back. “No, I’m glad you’re here.”
She smiled. “I’m working on a new song and I could use a second pair of ears. Mind coming in to listen?”
“Just so you know, I’m an asshole when it comes to that…” Holly shook her head. “I mean… yeah, sure. I’d be glad to help.”
Another smile. “Great, and I don’t mind if you’re an asshole. That’ll make it better. Come on, I have basement band up and waiting.”
Ah, basement band – the god of idols everywhere who couldn’t play instruments. Holly had much love for it, and she was glad to hear that someone was writing their own music. She followed Rose into the building, but briefly glanced over her shoulder.
No blood. Her heart was beating – she was alive. She was messed up and hurting, but she was alive. And that was all she could ask for right then.
