no amount of fear (will keep you safe)

by ApatheticRobots

Summary:

The quality of Ingo's life in Hisui has improved dramatically since his brother fell out of the sky.

Surely there's no underlying issues they still need to work out, right?

...Right?

Notes:

this fic is a sequel. please see the previous entry in the series for details about the context/setting.

It was a strange feeling, Ingo thought, to be able to separate even as short a time as he'd spent in Hisui into Before and After. (He supposed a full two years’ worth of seasons was not necessarily “short,” but relative to the three decades-and-change he’d already lived, it was quite short indeed.)

 

There was Before-- Before, when Ingo had nothing. When his memory was a gaping void, when the only place he'd ever thought he'd belong was here, Hisui, where despite his acceptance into the Pearl Clan's ranks there still remained distance between them. Both figurative and literal. There was Before, when Ingo had forgotten and not even realized there was anything to forget. Before, when every ounce of peace Ingo might have been able to achieve was inevitably soured by the pervasive sense of loneliness that clung to his heart like creeping frost.

 

And then, of course, there was After.

 

"I challenge you to a battle. If I win, I will be the other Highlands Warden instead of you."

 

"What? No! That's not how it works! You can't just-- just say fight me and then try to steal my position--"

 

"Why not? I am strong. I am familiar with Electric types. I have a very convincing reason to stay on the mountain all the time. I know how to be in charge of things. I am certain I would be better at your job than you. And I would like to battle you for it."

 

"What-- You--" Turning to Ingo, as though there was anything he could do to stop this. "Old man, can you please call off your Zoroark?"

 

"As I told you before, Warden Melli," Ingo replied, tone as dry as he could make it (and tinged with humor despite his stern expression), "he is not a Zoroark. He is my brother. And I would thank you to refrain from throwing out such accusations in the future. Also, it is probably for the best if you simply indulge him. I'm afraid he can be more stubborn than you at times."

 

"How dare--"

 

"I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. But there is no Subway here to be the Boss of, and so I need to find a different job. Ingo is a Warden. He is also a Subway Boss. He is both. So I can be both." He pointed at Melli, and Melli flinched back like he was holding a bladed weapon despite his hands being totally empty. "I like Double Battles. I like the combination of two Pokémon. You fight with three. That is not a Double Battle. But it is a combination. I think it would be fun."

 

"Are you threatening me?"

 

Maybe Ingo should step in, actually. Emmet was associated with him, and it was partially his responsibility to promote cooperation between the clans and prevent an increase in tensions. And even if no one was likely to take Melli's complaints seriously enough for it to spark a real Incident, it might suggest that Ingo was slacking in his duties, which simply would not stand.

 

"He has a point, Emmet," Ingo interjected. "It does not work like that. The primary method of selecting a Warden is based on the Noble's own preferences. And, on top of that, there must be an equal number of Wardens from both clans, to keep things fair. As you are not a member of the Diamond Clan, if you were to usurp Melli's position, it would create an imbalance, and could lead to undue conflict between the clans."

 

Emmet pursed his lips. "Hmm. That does not sound safe. And being safe is important. I could not become a member of the Diamond Clan?"

 

"We wouldn't take you!!" Melli shrieked, though Emmet ignored him. Ingo did too, actually.

 

"If they are willing to take you in, you could; however you would be obligated to adhere to their rules and regulations, even if you don't agree with them. And since, as you have mentioned, we have been making our own rules for a very long time, I imagine that may be troublesome." Also, Emmet didn't even have any Pokémon of his own he could use. While he may have been (correctly) assuming Ingo would let him borrow his team, the more likely option was that he had little interest in the position of Warden and was simply trying to push Melli's buttons.

 

"You are not wrong. It is important to follow the rules! But sometimes the rules are wrong. Also, you are a member of the Pearl Clan. So if I was going to join a Clan, that is where I would go." Emmet hummed thoughtfully, then stepped back to stand at Ingo's side. Melli wheezed a sigh of relief, hand on his chest to calm what was no doubt a racing heartbeat. (Emmet had that effect on people.) "Okay! I will not challenge you for the position of Warden."

 

"Oh, thank Sinnoh." 

 

"However, I am still challenging you. I like Pokémon battles. I especially like battles where something is new. I like combinations, and you use many Pokémon at once. I have not fought against a Warden yet. You do not need to win twenty battles, fight me!"

 

"Ingo!!"

 

There was After. After Emmet had arrived out of the blue (or, more accurately, out of the Rift), bringing a steady return of Ingo's memories with him. Bringing a sense of comfort and familiarity that nothing in Hisui could hold a candle to, a feeling that made Ingo realize the reason Hisui had never truly felt like home was because his home was a person and not a place. Bringing the understanding that anywhere in the world could feel like home, so long as Emmet was there. 

 

Emmet had slotted into Ingo's life like a missing link. Things were simply easier when he was there. Not that he actually made Ingo's work any easier-- actually, sometimes his lack of understanding in regards to Hisui's culture and climate could seriously impede his duties, to both of their individual displeasure-- but even basic things just took less effort when he was there. Ingo did not have to drag himself out of bed and brace himself for the day before him; he could simply get up and go.

 

As Melli made his hasty retreat, Ingo turned to face his brother. (His brother!! He had a brother! It had been two full weeks since Emmet's arrival, yet still he found himself marveling at the novelty of not only remembering his family but having said family right there with him.) "I must ask, if only to satiate my own curiosity: to what degree is your behavior designed simply to bother him?"

 

"A great deal of it," Emmet answered, ever honest. "He is verrry easy to aggravate."

 

"He is," Ingo admitted. "He brings it upon himself, most of the time. I know for certain that you're not alone in your inclination to mess with him. And if it had to be anyone..."

 

Emmet tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

 

"Well, no one takes anything Melli says with any real amount of seriousness, is all." Once they'd made their way back home, Ingo held the door to allow Emmet to enter first, then closed it behind them. "Were it someone like Warden Mai or Warden Arezu, I might encourage you to stay your tongue for risk of inciting an incident, but Warden Melli... I don't think anyone will care much if you bother him."

 

"An incident. But I am not a member of the Pearl Clan."

 

"No, but you are closely associated with me, which means your actions reflect on me. And, by extension, the Clan I represent."

 

Emmet’s expression screwed up. Ingo had long-since identified that as his thinking face. He had a lot of faces, far more than Ingo was capable of. Re-learning what each one of them indicated was a delightful way to spend his time. "Are they really that mad at each other?"

 

"Not so much in recent years-- I have been told it was far worse before I arrived. However, there is still a great deal of tension between them, particularly when it comes to the older members of each respective Clan. As well as the Leaders themselves." Speaking of which. Ingo grimaced, taking a seat on one of the chairs (because now he had two! He had a reason to have two,) and clasping his hands together. "On that note, do you think you've yet gathered your wits enough to be willing to meet Irida? I was due to deliver a report last week, and given I have been extraordinarily diligent about keeping with the schedule until now, she was quite concerned when I not only failed to do so but likewise reached out to tell her not to make her usual trip out this way."

 

Emmet's face twisted into something displeased. He sat down as well, but his posture was tight and his hands were fisted in the fabric of his coat. "Do I have to?"

 

"Of course not. You don't have to do anything you don't wish to, and I would not force you into any situations against your will." He set a hand on Emmet's shoulder. The Pearl Clan's aversion to casual touch had suited him just fine until Emmet had arrived. From that point on, it was the work of a habit he didn't remember building to reach for his brother whenever he had the opportunity. Going too long without any contact at all left him with an ache in his chest as pressing as hunger or thirst. He never thought he'd see the day when he could hardly get enough physical contact after shying away from it for so long. "However, I do need to speak with her, so your options are either hiding away until our meeting has concluded or showing your face, at which point we will be obliged to offer some form of explanation. If only to ease the concerns she will no doubt have in regards to your identity."

 

There was his thinking face again. Or was it his confused face? Maybe a little bit of both. "Why would she have concerns? I know I am your brother. You know I am your brother. You remember me. We look the same."

 

"It is precisely that which would cause her to worry." In a habit which he had picked up from the rest of his clansmen and failed to break, he lowered his voice as he continued, out of fear that simply speaking the beasts' names aloud would somehow invite them in. (A ridiculous notion. And yet, superstition persisted.) "The Zoroark of this land are... brutal. Far different from the ones in our home region, and cruel in a way that most wild Pokémon are not. They are known to go out of their way to cause grief through their illusions, taking the forms of a person or their loved ones in order to lure them to their death. For a mirror image of myself to appear suddenly, dressed in a Zoroark's white and claiming a connection where I had previously no evidence of one... To many, it would read as a horror story. The Pearl Clan in particular have reason to be wary-- the Icelands where they have settled are known to invite Zoroark sightings more frequently than any other area of Hisui." 

 

By the time he finished speaking, Emmet looked a bit like he was going to be sick. Definitely not an expression Ingo needed to figure out, nor was it one he liked seeing. "I see. Irida would assume I was one of these weird Zoroarks. Trying to get close so I can hurt you. Taking advantage of your amnesia."

 

He had missed this bluntness. Even if hearing the truth be spoken so plainly left him feeling somewhat queasy. "Indeed. We would want to assuage her fears sooner rather than later."

 

"Hm. I am Emmet. I do not like strangers. I do not like talking to people who will form opinions on me without knowing me. But I do not want to leave you alone. So I will join you for your meeting." His following smile was clearly forced, but he was trying-- no doubt for Ingo's sake-- and so it still left Ingo feeling warmed. "Besides, I need to make sure you have been treated well. And share embarrassing stories you can't remember with your friends. It is my job."

 

Ingo sputtered, perfectly glad to leave their previous morbid topic behind in favor of this banter. "Your job as what? That's not one of the tasks of a Subway Boss. I'm certain of that."

 

"It could be! You wouldn't know! But no, it is my job as a younger brother. I need to be annoying."

 

Something occurred to Ingo, then. Like so many of the turns of phrase he used but didn't understand, the gestures ingrained into his very bones, the next words out of his mouth were spoken on instinct alone; "Eight minutes does not actually mean you need to act like a younger sibling." 

 

This grin was as genuine as it could possibly be, nearly splitting Emmet's face in two. "You remembered! And yes it does. Just like eight minutes means you need to act like an older sibling even though according to all records, we are the same exact age. If it did not matter, you would not feel the need to start sentences with when I was your age and describe what you were doing eight minutes ago."

 

Without even knowing what he'd been missing, Ingo had missed this. It was just so... easy. Effortless. Existing with Emmet was as simple as breathing. Perhaps simpler. 

 

“Are we going to see Irida? Or is she coming to see us?” Us, Emmet said as he turned his chair to face Ingo head-on. Even something as minute as referring to them as a unit made Ingo feel the slightest bit giddy. He was a grown man, for crying out loud. “Tell me what the schedule looks like.”

 

“Ah, I have left that decision up to you. Normally she makes the trip into the Highlands-- though as mentioned I sent her a missive not long after your arrival informing her to delay her most recent trip. However I thought that it might be more comfortable for you if we were to refrain from inviting a stranger into our home. I would not want to make your adjustment to a strange locale any more difficult than it needs to be by violating your space.” 

 

Emmet gave him a passive smile. “Thank you. I appreciate it. But you worry too much. I will be fine. Whatever you usually do is okay.”

 

Now, Ingo did not take his brother to be a liar. The opposite, in fact, he was all but certain that Emmet rarely spoke anything but the truth, if ever. He trusted Emmet to know himself and his feelings, and to be honest about them. Ingo didn’t want to coddle him. But damn him, he was worried. Emmet had been tackling the adjustment to Hisui with far more grace than Ingo would have expected, based on both what he remembered of his brother’s intricacies and what Ingo’s own acclimation had been like. (Read: not smooth.) Despite the assurances offered, Ingo couldn’t help but fear that he wasn’t being entirely truthful about how well he was or wasn’t taking the strangeness of it all. 

 

“Alright,” he said, voice carefully neutral to mask his uncertainty, though by the way Emmet’s face twitched he could no doubt see through the falsified tone in a way others failed to do. “If you’re positive. I will inform her to resume standard operation.” 

 

“I am Emmet. I am sure.” 

 

It was a rather simple matter after that-- a quick tune from his flute summoned Lord Braviary (and his strange little Warden, who informed Ingo upon seeing him that she’d had a feeling he’d need someone who understood human speech), who was then sent off with a letter in the direction of the Pearl Settlement. Depending on whether Irida decided to hitch a ride or make the trek herself, she’d either get there within the hour or some time in the next two days.

 

If she was really concerned after his well-being thanks to his deviation from the routine, she’d choose the former option. Which was why Ingo got to work making his home presentable as soon as Warden Sabi had departed instead of putting off the task any longer.

 

As it turned out, two grown adults living in one space made clutter gather twice as fast. Who could’ve guessed?

 

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” Emmet asked from where Ingo had him sit, well out of the way of his cleaning frenzy. “It’s my mess too. And you seem nervous. You should sit. Maybe get a drink. Hug Tangela for a minute.”

 

“I’m not nervous,” Ingo lied valiantly. Emmet didn’t even grace his attempt with a response beyond a raised brow. “...I am nervous. While I am certain that Irida will understand our predicament... I worry. That she may overreact. Or that she may doubt the... integrity of my judgment. Unfortunately, my ailing memory has not painted me as a very reliable individual in the eyes of the people here. At least not when it comes to matters of sound mind.” 

 

Emmet sat up a little straighter, turning to stare at Ingo sharply. “Explain please?”

 

Ingo grimaced. He’d kind of hoped to avoid needing to explain such matters. “When I first arrived here, I was... disoriented. Very unsure of even the most basic of things. While I have never given anyone cause to distrust my skills or my work ethic, I’m afraid my first impression was a lasting one, and said impression did not demonstrate an excess of mental capability.”

 

The look on Emmet’s face was... not kind. 

 

“I can’t blame them for their apprehension,” Ingo added, compelled to defend the Pearl Clan despite his own grief with their skepticism. “My early days here were fraught with uncertainty. I wasn’t entirely coherent.”

 

“But you are now. You have changed. And they act like you haven’t.”

 

“I rarely see them. It doesn’t matter.”

 

“You see Irida.”

 

Ingo opened his mouth to defend his Leader as well. Then paused. Because hadn’t he had that exact thought when Emmet had first arrived? That Irida would doubt his sanity, would assume the worst? He wanted to preserve whatever Emmet still retained of a positive image of her, because she was a dear friend and he did value her company, but what could Ingo say that wasn’t an outright lie? 

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he eventually repeated. He softened his volume as he spoke, and while such a thing typically put others more at ease compared to his usual intensity, however in this situation it only served to make Emmet look more nervous. “We’ll explain. It will be fine.” 

 

Emmet turned towards the door. He’d avoided eye contact since his arrival, and there had never been a reason to force it, but now he wouldn’t even look at Ingo.

 

He finished cleaning up in silence. Every so often there would be a shift from Emmet’s direction-- adjusting in his seat, tapping his foot, folding and unfolding his arms. He was clearly antsy, though Sinnoh help Ingo if he could figure out the cause beyond a general unease at meeting someone new. Or dissatisfaction at Ingo’s willingness to ignore the negative perspectives which others had on him. (Unless that’s all it was?)

 

The room was as clean as it would get. Ingo sat back down in his chair.

 

Then stood up again moments later, heading for the door.

 

“Ingo?”

 

“I am going to meet Irida outside.” She wouldn’t attack Emmet. Not without asking questions first. She wasn’t reckless. But she could be a little impulsive sometimes, and he would prefer to explain the situation before she had the chance to react. (Or, in the event that she did act before he was able to reason with her, he wanted to be certain he wasn’t backing himself into a corner. He needed to give himself enough room to release one of his stronger Pokémon.) “You wait here.”

“Ingo--”

 

“Wait here,” he repeated, and though he didn’t necessarily mean for it to come out sounding like an order, he didn’t try to correct his tone either. Though he did follow it up with a; “Please, Emmet. Trust me.”

 

Emmet looked wildly unhappy with the entire situation. But he leaned back in his chair regardless. “Fine. I don’t like it. But fine.”

 

Ingo stepped outside, letting the door fall shut behind him, and was glad he’d chosen to do so. Almost as soon as the interior of his tent was fully obscured, there was a shrill cry and Braviary descended from the clouds overhead, the flash of pink indicating his passenger. Irida dropped cleanly to the ground a few dozen feet away. She watched the Noble leave, then turned and made her way up to where Ingo stood waiting.

 

“Warden Ingo,” she dipped her head in greeting as she came to stand in front of him. “It was good to hear from you again. I admit I was worried after your last message-- I thought something bad might have happened.”

 

“Nothing of the sort, Miss Irida, my cab remains in prime operating condition.” He reached up to tug at the brim of his hat. A very obvious nervous tic. “Though something did happen, I promise it is nothing you need to be concerned about. And it is nothing that will put a hazard on my tracks. It is a good thing, in fact.”

 

She tilted her head. “...Okay? What is it?”

 

“It’s... well. You are aware of my near total amnesia,” he began.

 

“More than aware. I have known you for quite a while now,” she said, mildly amused. “Did you recall something? I can see how that would give you a reason to delay our meeting.”

 

“Not quite. I mean-- I did, but it was not through any effort on my part.” He let go of his hat, only to begin messing with the ragged sleeves of his coat. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, honestly. It wasn’t like he expected her to immediately cry foul about the situation. She would ask questions, because she did not take any claims blindly, but it was doubtful she’d refuse to believe him outright. “It’s... a bit complicated. Though, you mentioned a little while ago that--”

 

Irida’s eyes flicked over his shoulder and went wide. Ingo felt his heart drop into his stomach.

 

Damn it all.  

 

“Ingo,” Irida said, tone wary, her hands twitching at her sides. Behind her, Glaceon’s eyes narrowed, and the air dropped by several degrees. (Or maybe that was just Ingo’s own panic making itself known.) “Can you do me a favor and take a few steps towards me?”

 

“It’s alright, Irida.” He held up one hand, the other going to rest on the first Pokéball at his waist, and without looking away from her, took a step back towards the door. And towards where Emmet was no doubt standing. (He hadn’t listened. Of course he hadn’t listened. Ingo had asked for his trust and he agreed but he hadn’t listened--) “Please. Just... wait. Do not do anything rash. Allow me to explain.” 

 

She grit her teeth. “Explain. What?”

 

“I know how this appears. But I assure you, whatever fears you have conjured in your mind, you may lay them to rest.”

 

A hand clapped over his shoulder, and Emmet stepped up to stand at his back. Before he could bite out an admonishment, his brother spoke up; “Wow. Ingo, you are verrry bad at explaining things. Why are you being so vague?” 

 

“Emmet--”

 

“No, seriously. Just say what you mean. You are being dramatic.”

 

“Have you no sense of tact--”

 

“Nope!” Emmet moved to stand beside him, moving his hand to instead sling his arm around Ingo’s shoulders. “I see no need for tact. Why waste the time? She is just going to keep getting more upset until you explain. And you’re going to keep dragging it out. I don’t know why. But it’s okay! I am Emmet. I will explain things, and I will be quick about it.”

 

“What happened to moving with speed but not haste? This is haste, Emmet! Ill-advised haste, no less. There is a reason I was being cautious about introducing you, and I do not appreciate your interjection.” Ingo gave a harsh sigh. His anxiety was quickly giving way to exasperation with his brother’s antics. This was a delicate situation, couldn’t he see that? The way Glaceon looked about ready to attack them? The way Irida looked...

 

...Well, actually, the fearful glint in her eyes was steadily being replaced with something else. Confusion? Amusement?

 

“...I apologize, Miss Irida. I’m afraid, um,” he paused, expression pinched. He couldn’t really finish that sentence with I’m afraid my brother’s stupidity has made me forget what I was going to say, could he? “...I’m afraid you’ve caught us at a rather tumultuous time.”

 

“Caught us? We invited her here.”

 

“You know what, Emmet--”

 

“While this is all very endearing,” Irida cut in, and that was definitely a hint of laughter in her tone, “I do need an explanation from the two of you.”

 

“Okay!” Emmet clapped a hand over Ingo’s mouth. Were he not wearing gloves, Ingo would have been sorely tempted to lick him in retribution. “I will explain, because Ingo has shown that he is bad at it. I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss. I like Double Battles. I like combinations of two Pokémon. And I like winning more than anything else. This is Ingo. He is also a Subway Boss. Normally he does the first part of our introductions. But he has amnesia, and he does not remember his script. So I am doing the first part. I am going to borrow some lines from him. Now, Ingo, if you have something to add, please!”

 

He removed his hand. Ingo shot him a heavy frown, purposefully forcing the corners of his mouth down past their usual limits to express his extreme displeasure with the whole affair. Emmet just returned his scowl with a deceptively innocent grin.

 

“...This is Emmet. He is my twin brother. He is not a Zoroark, despite what you no doubt assumed.” Giving in to the temptation to retaliate against Emmet’s bothersome treatment, he reached over and flicked the side of his brother’s head. “He arrived in a similar manner to that Galaxy Team recruit you mentioned to me not long ago.”

Irida stood up a bit straighter. “He came through the Rift?”

 

“And landed up near the Celestica Ruins, yes.”

 

“Hm. I still find it awfully convenient that you just so happen to have a brother who looks identical to you but dresses in white,” Irida said, and had it not been evident she intended to continue speaking, Ingo would’ve leapt to Emmet’s defense immediately, “but the way the two of you act together... It’s hard to argue with that sort of familiarity. It would be hard to fake it, too. And if Akari was able to come through the rift, I don’t see why someone else couldn’t.”

 

Ingo opened his mouth to inquire after the unfamiliar name. Then something occurred to him and he paused, instead turning to Emmet. “Is that why you were so insistent on being a nuisance?”

 

Emmet’s ensuing smile was broad enough to make his eyes scrunch up. “Yup! I am Emmet. I knew she was not going to believe you. Not without there being an argument. And arguing would have made you upset. Especially because you like this person, and you value her opinion. So I decided to take Shauntal’s advice and show, don’t tell.”

 

Another unfamiliar name. Damn. While Emmet’s arrival had brought a slew of Ingo’s memories along for the ride, there was still a great deal of his history that was completely gone. Mostly when it came to people or places that weren’t directly related to the history they shared. (He had just barely recalled their close connection with Elesa after way too much prompting. It should not have taken two hours of conversation to remember something as simple as the type of Pokémon she liked using.)

 

That uncertainty aside, though, the fact that Emmet’s behavior was not, in fact, just him following up on his earlier claim of it being his job as the “younger” sibling to be annoying and was instead perfectly calculated to put Irida more at ease... It felt like something he should have known. Should have realized. He’d recalled that Emmet was the more crafty of the two, generally, and that for all he never lied he would gladly withhold pieces of the truth as necessary, but somehow he’d underestimated his brother’s ability to understand the intricacies of talking to people. (Was it pride he felt? Guilt, for thinking his brother was any less capable at something than he was? Certainly not jealousy for how easily he’d navigated around Irida’s suspicions, right? That would be ridiculous. And pointless.)

 

“...Markedly effective,” he said, and Emmet beamed at the praise. That sorted, he looked back to Irida. “Apologies for the detour. I assume Akari is the name of the Galaxy Team recruit you spoke of?”

 

“You assume correctly. She...” Irida pursed her lips, crossing her arms so she could lightly tap at her bracelets, fidgeting with the pearls laid into the porcelain. Glaceon, its prior aggression gone, rubbed its head against her ankle. “You haven’t been keeping up with news out of the Fieldlands, have you?” 

 

“I haven’t been keeping up with news out of anywhere for the past couple weeks,” Ingo admitted with an idle shrug. “Truth be told, I’ve been a bit distracted.”

 

“I’m verrry distracting.” 

 

“Hush, Emmet,” he said, placing his hand over Emmet’s mouth precisely as his brother had done earlier. Emmet’s eyes narrowed, and he realized too late that it was not an aggrieved look but rather a smug one. Seconds later, something wet touched his hand, and as he whipped it away his shriek could’ve been compared to the whistle of a train. Ingo, after all, was not wearing gloves. “Emmet--!!”

 

“See? Distracting.”

 

Irida pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. “Shame on me for thinking you would have been better than Melli and Adaman,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes, then stood up a little taller and leveled him with a flat look. “If you’re quite finished. Even if you’ve been... otherwise preoccupied, you must have seen or heard that strange lightning a couple nights ago.” 

 

A denial sat on the tip of his tongue, but her words tugged on a faint recollection that made him pause. Being awoken in the middle of the night by a thunderous noise, only to have Emmet smack a pillow over his face and tell him to go back to bed, where his mind had instantly dismissed whatever had woken him in the first place. 

 

“We did,” Emmet answered in his place. “There was lightning with no storm. I thought it was weird. But the hole in the sky is weird too. So I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal.” 

 

“Well, unfortunately, it was. We learned the following day that the lightning had struck Lord Kleavor, driving him into a wild, unnatural frenzy.” Ingo’s frown deepened. Either he understood the severity of the words despite the context he lacked or simply sensed Ingo’s disquiet, because a moment later Emmet shuffled back to stand behind Ingo once more and lean against him, resting his chin on Ingo’s shoulder. The weight was grounding. “It was only the ingenuity of the Galaxy Team and Akari’s own courage which led us to a solution.” 

“What happened?”

 

“Well, we were reluctant to trust this stranger from the Rift at first. Understandably so, if you ask me. However, Lord Kleavor’s frenzy was causing harm not only to the Pokémon in the woods, but to any members of the Clan or the Galaxy Team who dared to get too close. So Akari was assigned to study our Lord and ordered to find both a cause and a solution for his state.” She clasped her hands together. “She figured it out, in the end. With the Professor’s help. They created soothing balms out of Lord Kleavor’s usual offerings and... threw them at him.”

 

Ingo blinked. “Threw them?”

 

“Yes. Like you do with your... capture devices.”

 

“How... resourceful?”

 

“My thoughts were similar.” He could see her fidgeting. The idea of one of their Nobles falling into a frenzy was unthinkable on its own, but that the source of it came from the Rift-- a rift which most attributed to the power of the almighty Sinnoh... It didn’t speak well of the favor their Clan held. (And it didn’t help that they’d needed to get help from an outsider to resolve the issue.) “It seems this frenzy was not an isolated incident, though. I’ve heard word that Lord Ursaluna has been acting strange, and I have reason to believe that Lord Electrode is suffering a similar fate.”

 

That gave Ingo a start. They’d just seen Melli earlier, and he hadn’t really given any indication he was dealing with the sort of danger Irida implied Lord Kleavor had posed. Perhaps his pride had prevented him from bringing it up? 

 

“I see. Am I to assume, then, that this Akari of the Galaxy Team will be seeking to resolve these frenzies as well?”

 

“Most likely. Kamado has sent her to the Mirelands-- apparently Warden Arezu informed him of Ursaluna’s behavior.” Irida’s expression soured. “Why she or Calaba didn’t tell me I can’t fathom, but there’s nothing we can do about it now, I suppose.”

 

“I see. Quite troubling news, this is.” Ingo felt more than saw Emmet nod in agreement. “I certainly appreciate the update. Would you like us to look into the situation with Lord Electrode any further?”

 

“Not yet-- I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.” Her eyes shifted to glance at Emmet briefly. “...Either of you. Nor do I want to risk causing an incident with the Diamond Clan. Just stay away from Moonview Arena for now, alright? And keep an eye on Lady Sneasler. While I don’t think she’s in any danger if she’s not frenzied already, I don’t want to risk losing another of our Nobles to this madness. Never thought I’d be glad to see the day Palina’s negligence paid off-- At least we don’t have to worry about the Coastlands.”

 

The last part was said as a mutter, and Ingo got the feeling he wasn’t really supposed to hear it. So, graciously, he moved right along. “I have noticed nothing out of the ordinary so far, and I expect Lady Sneasler would have made it known to one of us if she were in distress, but we will be diligent regardless.” 

 

“Yup! Really diligent. We will ensure the safety of all our passengers!” Emmet added. 

 

Irida glanced between the two. The expression on her face was wholly unreadable. “Lady Sneasler has two Wardens now, then?”

 

Ingo glanced to the side where Emmet was still leaning on him. Emmet, in turn, hummed and tilted his head. “No, not really. I am not part of the Clan. So I cannot be a Warden. That is the rule. I like Lady Sneasler, though. And I think she likes me. I can’t really tell.”

 

“She does like him,” Ingo interjected. After their initial meeting when she’d brought Emmet home for him, she’d returned periodically to check in. Though he still wasn’t sure how much he truly understood her thoughts and feelings and how much was heavy conjecture on his part, he was pretty sure she’d been worried. If only for Ingo’s sake. “Though I cannot say for certain whether she would adhere to his instruction as she does mine. So, as Emmet said, no-- I remain Sneasler’s lone Warden. Emmet is simply... assisting. We are a two-car train, after all.”

 

“I’m helping!”

 

As previously stated, Emmet did not actually make his job any easier, but Irida didn’t need to know that. The very last thing Ingo wanted to do was give Irida cause to think he might be made less effective with Emmet’s presence. Or, Sinnoh forbid, give her a reason to try and separate them.

 

What would he do, if such a thing came to pass? If Irida decided Emmet was impeding his work as a Warden, or if she changed her mind on whether she trusted Emmet’s claims to humanity and made attempts to keep them apart. Obviously he would under no circumstances let that happen, but how far would he go to defend his brother? How long would his loyalty to the Pearl Clan and its Leader stand true, if his family were to come into question?

 

It took little deliberation to realize the answer was not very long at all, and the swiftness with which he drew such a dour conclusion left him feeling mildly shaken. It was true, though-- there were few things Ingo wouldn’t do for the sake of those he loved. Turning his back on the people who had given him a home was hardly a challenge.

 

He could only hope, for both their sakes and Irida’s, that she wouldn’t risk such a thing. She knew as well as he did that if it came down to a matter of strength, his Pokémon would decimate any she could send his way, save for perhaps Lord Avalugg. And while Emmet hadn’t brought any of their former team with them, the determined glint in his eyes when Ingo had mentioned the Alpha Crobat down in Wayward Cave suggested he’d be gathering a team for himself as soon as he learned the terrain enough to make treks out into the Highlands on his own. And if they had the chance to fight together...

 

Irida was not an idiot. She wouldn’t dare.

 

“...Right. I guess I can’t stop you from working together, just... maybe try to keep that kind of information to yourselves. I caught enough flak for making you a Warden so quickly in the first place, Ingo-- please don’t give the Clan any more reason to doubt either of us.”

 

He tipped his hat down a notch. “I would not dream of disappointing you.”

 

“I’m going to trust you on this one, Ingo.” Irida put her hands on her hips, looking away with a slight frown. “That being said, even if the Clan complains, there’s not much they can do. I don’t think any of us want to find out what Sneasler might do if we try to strip you of your title-- I’ve never seen her take a liking to someone the way she did you. Certainly nothing of the sort with her previous Warden.”

A person Ingo had heard surprisingly little about, considering he’d replaced them. Whenever he tried bringing them up, Irida (or anyone else he rarely spoke to) would quickly change the subject.

 

“Anyway, I should be taking my leave,” she said with a shake of her head, pointing at the two of them; “Don’t go poking around the Arena. Don’t start trouble. I’m counting on you.”

 

“We will see this journey to its stalwart conclusion,” Ingo stated firmly. “Safe travels, Miss Irida.”

 

With one last long look at the two of them (and another glance at Emmet over Ingo’s shoulder), Irida pulled out her flute and blew a quick melody. In moments, Braviary descended from the sky, and she was off in a flurry of feathers.

 

As soon as Braviary disappeared from view, Ingo let out a heavy breath he was only marginally aware he'd been holding and his shoulders fell into their usual slouch. Which lasted for all of about five seconds before Emmet clicked his tongue and poked Ingo in the back repeatedly until he stood up straight again. 

 

“You’re going to ruin your back if you keep that up,” Emmet chided. “Old man.”

 

He wanted to reply with some snarky comment about the scant few minutes between them, he really did. But their conversation with Irida had been undercut with enough tension to leave him feeling drained, so instead he just turned around and dropped his head onto Emmet’s shoulder unceremoniously. Emmet made an alarmed noise, reaching up to wrap his arms around Ingo and hold him steady.

“Are you okay?”

 

“I’m very tired, Emmet,” he whispered, voice rough. “That was stressful.”

 

Emmet hummed, patting Ingo’s back like he was playing a set of drums. “I think it went well. She understood our situation. She was not mad that you hadn’t told her sooner. And she did not assume you weren’t being smart about it. I like her better than I thought I would. She’s clever. I don’t understand why she is in charge, because she is a child, but at least she seemed to have your safety and well-being in mind. That’s important.”

 

“She is far more capable than one would assume based on her youth.” Ingo leaned back, and Emmet let go to allow him the space, though he kept his hands lightly curled around Ingo’s arms. “Beyond that, though, the news she delivered is worrying. Lightning from the Rift agitating the Nobles... It doesn’t bode well.”

 

“It is bad. But it is also not our problem.” He reached up to pinch the brim of Ingo’s hat, tugging it down over his eyes. “You are Sneasler’s Warden. You are not in charge of the other Nobles. Conduct your own train, and don’t worry about anyone else’s.” 

 

Coming from anyone else, the blunt pragmatism might have hurt more than helped, but from Emmet, it came with an element of understanding that was pretty effective at stopping Ingo’s worry in its tracks. It wasn’t his job to fix their problems, was it? He was not a Subway Boss here, and this was not Gear Station. He wasn’t in charge. He had his own tasks to complete, and he was under no obligation to take on anyone else’s.

 

It was in his nature to try and help wherever he could. But that was then, and this was now. Hisui was not the place for altruism. 

 

Perhaps Emmet should have been the one to wind up here in the first place. He certainly had no problem minding his own business, and would have been able to withstand the cold of both the climate and the people of this land far better than Ingo. He wouldn't have needed to rely on others so much, and he wouldn't have given them reason to doubt the clarity of his mental state. He might have even found a way home ages ago, despite any theoretical amnesia, inherent stubborn determination driving him where Ingo's own passive acceptance of his circumstances failed to do so.

 

"You are derailing," Emmet's placid tone interrupted his rapidly spiraling train of thought. "I can see it on your face."

 

Right. Because Emmet could always read him, no matter how blank his expression might have been. The visual neutrality which had plagued many of his conversations since his arrival wasn't an issue for Emmet-- just another way he would have fared better in Ingo's place. 

 

(How would Ingo have fared in his place, though? Would he have lasted as long as Emmet did without giving into his sorrow? Would he have been clever enough to devise a way to travel across time and space as Emmet had? Or would he have found himself lacking there too, leaving Emmet alone ad infinitum?)

 

"Stop it. Ingo. You're hurting yourself. Look at me." He forced his eyes to focus, and they settled on Emmet's wounded expression. "You're thinking too hard. Whatever it is, it's not important right now. Take a couple breaths."

 

It was easy enough to do as directed, particularly when Emmet took several deep breaths of his own and Ingo was able to follow along with the steady movement of his chest. His heartbeat, which had picked up as he continued with his internal critique of his own failures, gradually returned to an even pace. 

 

"You have done enough today," Emmet said quietly. Then he straightened up with a smile; "Time for a break!"

 

"I haven't--"

 

"Nope! Break time," he interrupted, nodding adamantly as he spoke. "It's required! Union regulated. Follow the rules!"

 

With the hand still curled around his arm, he tugged Ingo along towards their shared living space. Once they were inside and the door was firmly closed, blocking off the sights and sounds of the outside world and further serving to calm Ingo's unsettled state, Emmet none-too-gently shoved him back to sit down on the bed. After several more moments of rummaging through their belongings, he emerged with a victorious noise and a Pokéball in hand. He flipped the latch, and in a flash of light, Tangela materialized in Ingo's lap. 

 

Ingo shoved his hands into Tangela's vines without hesitation. Twisting the fibers between his fingers gave him something to focus on, and he let out another steady exhale. 

 

It wasn't even that taxing of a conversation. It had only been, what, half an hour in total? A big chunk of it had just been bantering with Emmet as opposed to even talking about anything that could be stress-inducing. There was no earthly reason for him to be getting so worked up over what amounted to barely a blip in his day.

 

"Ingo!" 

 

Gentle patting on the sides of his face made him blink, and he took stock of Emmet's concerned expression only a few inches away. 

 

"Ingo, what is wrong?"

 

"I don't--" His voice wavered. He clutched Tangela a bit closer. It was a good thing the little thing didn't actually have any sensation in its vines-- he was definitely gripping them with enough force to hurt if it had. "I'm not sure. I don't know."

 

"Okay. That's fine. Can you think of anything I can do to help? It's okay if the answer is no."

 

He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

 

"Don't apologize. It's okay. I'm not upset." Emmet moved his hands from Ingo's face to instead rest loosely on his shoulders. "Can I give you a hug?"

 

Were he anyone else, Ingo would have practically snarled at the prospect. But he was Emmet, and he was the exception to every single one of Ingo's rules about people and the distance he required of them, so there was no hesitation in Ingo's nod of agreement. 

 

In a similar manner, once he had agreed, there was no hesitation on Emmet's part as he clambered up onto the bed and all but draped himself across Ingo's back, knees braced beneath him giving him the necessary height as he wound his arms around Ingo's chest. He settled with his chin resting on Ingo's shoulder in a mimicry of his earlier gesture. Apparently, such was a frequent pattern of theirs. 

 

"It will be okay, Ingo," he said softly, mindful of their proximity as he kept his voice far quieter than Ingo could ever manage. (Yet another point to his advantage, he wouldn’t have shouted loud enough to rile up an Alpha before he learned to modulate his volume better--) "Things will work out. I am right here."

 

Hisui had taught him that he shouldn't rely on others-- that any support freely given could just as easily be ripped away at a moment's notice. But it was difficult to retain that lesson when Emmet insisted on being so inexorably kind at every possible turn. 

 

Try as he might, he couldn't remember if such kindness was a staple of the world they both came from or if his brother was just that good.

 

Ingo let out a slow breath, leaning back against Emmet as he exhaled, sinking into the warmth behind him. With Emmet firm against his back and Tangela a solid weight at his front, the dual points of pressure helped him keep his thoughts here and now instead of trailing off into more hypotheticals. Whether Emmet would have been more suited to being stranded in Hisui did not matter-- Ingo was the one who had ended up there, and they were both here now. He did not need to worry about things that hadn’t and would never come to pass.

 

Emmet hummed. “Feeling better?”

 

“Yes.” He relaxed his death grip on Tangela, tilting his head to the side to bump it against Emmet’s. “Thank you. Every day I find myself more grateful you were able to once again connect our cars. I can’t be certain how well I might have handled these troublesome developments without your support.”

 

“Lucky for the both of us, you will never have to find out.” Emmet patted his cheek. It was more like a particularly gentle smack than the light tap he probably meant it to be, but the intended comfort was received all the same. “Now then. You have done enough as a Warden for the day. For the week. You have been taking care of me and doing your job at the same time. You need a break.”

 

“Was this not a break?”

 

“This was ten minutes,” Emmet said, and as Ingo turned to look at him he could see the deadpan expression on his face. “A real break. Where we do something fun that is not part of your job. Do you think you can leave the house right now?”

 

Ingo considered. A month ago he might have agreed just to not seem like an invalid, but he knew that not only was there no point in lying to Emmet, who could always pick up on his falsehoods like some kind of sixth sense, but that Emmet would not begrudge him for any kind of perceived weakness. “So long as we avoid people, yes, I think spending some time outside could be enjoyable. What did you have in mind?”

 

With a wide grin, Emmet held up Tangela’s unoccupied Pokéball. “I want to start a team. My own team. That way we can battle again.” 

 

For as much as Ingo was certain his expression did not change, he was equally certain that his eyes lit up at the idea, and he could almost feel the corners of his mouth curling up in some strange version of a smile. “Of course! Bravo, Emmet! We will make haste for the wider Highlands at once. Did you have any particular Pokémon in mind? There is a great variety to be found here, and though they can be strong, I have faith they will be no challenge for you. Would you like to borrow some of my Pokéballs, or shall I teach you to craft your own?”

 

Emmet cackled at his visible glee, leaning more of his weight against Ingo’s back. Tangela jumped off his lap to avoid getting squashed as he was forced to lean forward. “It’s weird that we have to make our own Pokéballs here. I want to learn at some point. But I’ll use yours for now. As for Pokémon I had in mind...” He hummed thoughtfully, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Didn’t you mention a Crobat in one of these caves?”

 

“Ah--” Ingo blanched. Loath as he was to dampen Emmet’s spirits... yeah, no, that wasn’t happening. “Perhaps we ought to start with something a bit less... hazardous. The Alphas of this land are not to be disturbed without proper caution, and none of my Pokémon are strong enough to face down the one in Wayward Cave.” 

 

Particularly not when two of them boasted a weakness to Flying types. And one of them a weakness to Poison types. And the third, while it was not weak to either of Crobat’s primary typings, had no way of hitting it for super-effective damage.

 

Hm. Actually, he was at a serious disadvantage there, wasn’t he? While he had no plans to go after Wayward Cave’s resident Alpha, there were a host of other Pokémon who shared a similar typing to be found in the Highlands. Perhaps it would be worth looking into a Rock or Steel type, maybe Electric or Psychic as well to add some more effective moves to his available pool. That was a matter for later, though-- His three Pokémon served him fine, and Emmet had none to his name. A fact which should be rectified as soon as possible. 

 

“You’re boring. But fine! Safety is important.” He leaned back, letting Ingo sit up properly, and planted his hands on his knees. “Hmm... I like Steel types. And I like Electric types. You know the Pokémon that can be found here better than me.”

 

Already ideas were racing through Ingo’s head. There were the Bronzor and Bronzong which could be found scattered across the Highlands, of course, though as soon as he had that thought he abruptly remembered that Emmet didn’t like Psychic types, so he dismissed it. Luxio and the rest of that line could be found without much difficulty, as could the Electabuzz line if you knew where to look. He knew of a Steelix in the area, and though that too posed the problem of being an Alpha of its species, there were still plenty of normal Onix to be found. And if they managed to find a Metal Coat...

 

Plus, if any Pokémon was going to be likened to a train, it would be that particular line.

 

“The next stop is: Celestica Trail,” he eventually said after a minute or two of thinking. “We can find Onix there, and with that on our side, catching an Electabuzz or a Luxio near Cloudcap Pass should be simple enough. If there’s any others we find along the way that you feel the urge to catch, I am happy to lend you as many Pokéballs as are needed.”

 

“Good choices! Steelix is a verrry good Pokémon. Defensively bulky. Electivire and Luxray are strong physical attackers who can learn a variety of moves.” Emmet nodded as he spoke. “Okay! Check safety. Everything’s ready!”

 

He jumped to his feet, Ingo joining him naught but a moment later, gathering up the excess of unused Pokéballs he had lying around. He moved to stand beside where Emmet was waiting by the door, and in a show of synchronicity that very well could have brought Ingo to tears for how much he’d missed it, they each turned on their heels and pointed forward with a call of; “All aboard!”

 

They did have to split up to leave the room, though. They simply wouldn’t both fit through the door at the same time.

 

Catching the Onix was simple enough. The Celestica Trail was only a short trek from their home in the cliffs. He’d needed to explain the difference in methods here in Hisui-- these Pokémon were far easier to catch unawares, unused to a widespread human presence as they were, and while you could fight them it was often far easier to simply toss a Pokéball when they weren’t paying attention-- but Emmet took to it like a Basculin to water. Between his innate aptitude and Onix’s slow disposition, that leg of their trip reached its terminus before the sun had even hit the mid-point in the sky. Ingo’s heart soared as he watched Emmet dole out affection to what could visually be mistaken for a pile of rocks if one didn’t look too closely.

 

Even when he’d had no memory to go off of, the idea of keeping a cold distance from Pokémon as the rest of Hisui did never sat well with him. He had always ignored the word of others and happily dispensed upon his Pokémon as much affection as they were comfortable with. Despite how right it felt, though, he had sometimes found himself skeptical of his own habits. Perhaps it was a bit odd to be so willing to get so close to something capable of causing real harm if it felt like it.

 

Seeing Emmet put such trust in his own Pokémon (heedless of how recently it had been caught as he got near enough to scratch under Onix’s chin) extinguished any doubts he might have had.

 

How could this not be the way of things, when it brought everyone involved so much joy?

 

The next leg proved to be a good bit more time-consuming. Not only because Cloudcap Pass was at least several hours of travel away from the Trail, and that was if you had the Nobles on your side. Which, to be fair, Ingo did, but they could really only transport one person at a time and he didn’t want to risk sending Emmet off on his own when there was no guarantee the Nobles would listen to his directions as they did Ingo. (He also didn’t want to send Emmet off on his own. Full stop.) So walking it was. 

 

Although in the end it turned out to be Ingo walking and Emmet riding alongside him in Sneasler’s basket, called on to assist when Emmet abruptly collapsed halfway through the Stonetooth Rows and nearly gave Ingo a heart attack. He was fine in the end-- simply tired. Along with how poor of a condition his cab was in thanks to neglecting his health somewhat during Ingo’s absence, he hadn’t exactly been doing a lot of exercise recently.

 

“I walk to work. It takes five minutes. And then I am riding trains or sitting in an office all day,” he wheezed, hanging over the edge of Sneasler’s basket to bat at Ingo’s hat like a Purrloin. “You are the one who climbs up mountains every day. Buff weirdo.”

 

“If my returning memory has not betrayed me, I believe the correct response to this situation is to inform you that you ought to get good, Emmet.” 

 

“I am Emmet. You are the worst.”

 

He had mostly recovered by the time they reached Cloudcap Pass, and Sneasler got them both situated on one of the tall cliffs out of sight of the local Alpha Electivire before disappearing to wherever she went when she wasn’t occupied helping him. The sun was nearly set and the chill of their altitude started setting in rather quickly-- they’d want to hurry this up and start getting home sooner rather than later. As it was they’d end up traveling at night no matter how soon they managed to get the final catch for the day.

 

Emmet crouched down at the edge of the cliff they were perched on, and Ingo knelt next to him, peering down at the snowy trail. There was a Luxray sniffing around a berry tree at the edge of the path, and closer, an Elekid curled up and dozing. 

 

From where he had apparently tucked it away in his sleeve, Emmet readied a Pokéball. Ingo watched with bated breath as he launched it towards the closer of the two-- the Elekid gave a start moments before it disappeared in a flash of light, and after several tense seconds, there was the familiar click accompanied by a pop of sparks that signified a successful capture. 

 

“Bravo!!” Ingo shouted, the call echoing through the cliffs around them. He winced at the volume-- there was an Alpha right there, hadn’t he learned-- but his brief moment of regret was quickly interrupted by Emmet slinging an arm around Ingo’s shoulders, smiling like the sun.

 

They’d done this before, hadn’t they? Familiarity brought a memory to the forefront of his mind; the two of them as children after setting out on their own, Emmet carefully throwing a ball at an oblivious Tynamo. He caught it then, and Ingo had exclaimed his pride at the whole affair, which had promptly awakened a very displeased Boldore. He’d felt bad then too, but Emmet had just pulled him into a side-hug the same way he was doing now and--

 

“Thank you for being proud of me,” Emmet whispered.

 

--And had said that. 

 

“Of course,” Ingo replied, winding an arm around him in turn. “No matter how much you might have done so in the past, catching a new Pokémon is always an achievement to be celebrated.”

 

Hisui had no shortage of faults in regards to its collective view on Pokémon (like, seriously, so many faults), but for all the ways it was wrong, the idea that catching even the weakest Wurmple was worthy of commemoration was not a notion that Ingo was quick to dismiss. It was impressive, no matter how relatively easy the capture might have been.

 

Ingo sent Gliscor down to retrieve the ball, and as soon as he had it in his hands, Emmet released the newly-caught Elekid and scooped it up to cuddle it close to his chest. While Ingo couldn’t exactly read its feelings the way he could his own Pokémon (or Lady Sneasler, though he was pretty sure her being blessed by Almighty Sinnoh had something to do with their ease of communication on that front), the Elekid clearly wasn’t upset. Electric types had no problem zapping their trainers to show their displeasure. Of this, Ingo was certain.

Okay, this was cute, but it was also very quickly growing to levels of darkness that were not so easily navigated. At least the sky was clear tonight. 

 

“We should begin our journey home,” Ingo urged, and ignored the pout Emmet sent him. (Was it his imagination, or was the Elekid pouting as well...?) “The Highlands only grow more dangerous the later it gets, and we’re quite far from our destination.”

 

“If only there were trains,” Emmet lamented, recalling Elekid into its ball. “Then we would not have to worry. But Hisui is lagging behind.” 

 

“There is one major settlement.”

 

“I bet Unova has trains by now,” he continued muttering even as Ingo helped him make his way down the cliffside. Once they were both steady on even ground, Ingo let go and the two began making their way back towards the Clamberclaw Cliffs. If only Ingo had taken better care of his uniform-- the reflective strips had long since lost their visibility in dark environments. “You should have landed in Unova instead.”

 

“Next time I make an unexpected trip across time and space, I will try to keep that in mind,” Ingo said dryly. 

 

The footsteps behind him abruptly stopped. 

 

Ingo glanced back. Emmet had frozen in his tracks, hands balled at his sides and expression pained. He was shaking slightly. His sudden change in mood had Ingo turning on his heel and marching towards his brother, reaching for him and setting his hands on Emmet’s shoulders as though trying to snap him out of his fearful daze.

 

“Emmet,” he urged, “Emmet, what’s wrong?”

 

“Don’t joke about that.” His tone was even flatter than usual, completely void of emotion. To the point that even Ingo wouldn’t have been able to tell what he was feeling if he weren’t so terribly expressive through other means. (Through his eyes shining with unshed tears, the grit of his teeth, divots left in his palms from how tightly his fists were clenched--) “Ingo, don’t even joke about that. Please. Don’t ever do this again. It would-- I could not--”

 

Realization settled like cold rain. “Of course,” Ingo said, pulling Emmet in for a hug, stifling a wince as Emmet returned the gesture and dug his nails into Ingo’s back hard enough to be felt through even the sturdy fabric of his coat and tunic. “Sinnoh, I’m so sorry, Emmet, I wasn’t even thinking. Of course. Such matters should not be taken so lightly-- I suppose I have simply grown numb to the idea after living with it for so long. I swear to you, with all my honor as a Warden and a Subway Boss, and more importantly as your brother, I will never make an unforeseen departure like that again. And I will not make light of it either.” 

 

Emmet exhaled harshly into his collar, an aborted sob if his assumption was correct, and his painful grip eased. “I am sorry. For overreacting.”

 

“It wasn’t an overreaction. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through in my absence-- whatever you are feeling, know that I will not hold it against you. No matter what. Never feel as though you need to apologize for that, alright?”

 

He nodded against Ingo’s shoulder. Ingo sighed, rubbing light patterns across Emmet’s shoulders, content to simply stand there for perhaps longer than they should have. It only grew later the more they idled. But-- perhaps just a moment longer would not set them so drastically off-schedule. Emmet needed this. (Maybe Ingo did too.)

 

Several more moments passed in silence.

 

Then--

 

There was a sharp gasp from Emmet. One arm tightened around Ingo (the other darting into Ingo's coat for a split second to grab something before shooting forward past the side of Ingo’s head and out of view), pulling him along as Emmet stumbled backwards, and Ingo fumbled to reach up and steady his hat before it could fall at the sudden jostling. 

 

“Emmet, what--”

 

The crack of a Pokéball colliding with a target. A puff of air. Then a click and a shower of sparks.

 

...Stillness. Emmet breathed a sigh of relief, and Ingo risked a glance behind him. While his view was still somewhat limited by how tightly Emmet was still holding onto him (he couldn’t actually turn around all the way. Or move at all.) he could see enough clues to gather what had happened. Barely two feet away, a single Gigaton ball-- the only one Ingo had brought with them, actually-- sat innocuously on the ground. A good dozen meters away, several Gible were staring at them, all gathered together and... probably thinking they were hiding, the way they were crouched behind an outcropping of stone. 

 

“This place is dangerous,” Emmet said with a wheeze. “You said that. I think I did not really believe you.”

 

“I did insist,” Ingo replied, voice weak. Emmet did finally let go, allowing Ingo to stand up straight and brush himself off, adjusting his hat back into his proper position. He crouched down, swiping the ball from the ground and turning it over in his hands. “A Gabite, I assume?”

 

“It attacked. Out of nowhere. It spotted us and came running. You didn’t notice.” Emmet’s expression fell. “Because of me.”

 

“No, no, don’t blame yourself. I can’t say I would have noticed it even if I weren’t otherwise busy helping you. I’m quite tired,” he said, and his words were corroborated by the yawn that followed. “Just because I’ve gotten better at surviving here does not mean I never let my guard down when I shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.” 

 

He held the ball out, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Emmet took it. 

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“It’s your catch,” Ingo shrugged. “You have the strongest claim to it.”

 

Emmet looked down at the polished black surface. “...It could be yours. Like Haxorous. He likes you better. Maybe this Dragon type will too.”

 

“Maybe. Or maybe it will like you better. Who can say?” He reached forward to close Emmet’s hand around the curve of the Pokéball. “We can figure out exactly who it belongs to later. Right now it’s late, and we are dreadfully off schedule, and I would like to return home before any more incidents arise which we are both too exhausted to adequately respond to.”

 

“Probably best. That was not safe driving.”

 

Though Lady Sneasler was not technically able to carry more than one person in her basket at a time, when Ingo summoned her to help get Emmet the rest of the way home, she took one look at him and scooped him up into her arms. There were no cliffs between here and home she really needed to have her hands free for, so Ingo was content to just let himself be carried through the Highlands.

 

From his perch in the basket, Emmet snorted at the way he’d gone limp in the Noble’s hold. “You look like a wet carpet.”

 

Tired baby, Sneasler cooed. Sleepy baby needs to be carried.

 

“You’re both so cruel to me,” Ingo groaned. 

 

Despite Ingo’s insistence that they could manage just fine on their own, really, they were grown adults who were more than capable at taking care of themselves, Sneasler insisted on carting them both inside and getting them settled in bed before she finally made her departure for the night. When she did, it was with several obnoxious licks to both their heads in some half-assed attempt at grooming that left Emmet giggling and Ingo muttering expletives as he tried to pat his hair back down into something manageable.

 

“Emmet, stop laughing, you’re subject to the same treatment I am.”

 

“Maybe so,” Emmet said, happily cozying up in the various blankets Sneasler had stacked on top of them, “but I am not the one who is technically supposed to be in charge of her. You are her Warden. And she treats you like a baby.” 

 

“Every Warden’s relationship with their Noble is different,” Ingo replied stiffly. 

 

“Uhuh. Weak defense.”

 

“Emmet.”

 

“No more arguing,” Emmet said around a yawn, reaching over to wave his hand in Ingo’s face. “Sleep now. Complain tomorrow. I am-- Emmet. I am tired.”

 

He made it so hard to stay miffed at him, he really did. Ingo softened easily, shaking his head with a sigh as he reached over to tug one last blanket up around Emmet’s shoulders before turning his back on his brother and getting comfortable himself.

 

“Today was fruitful,” he murmured. “An excellent start to your team.”

 

Emmet hummed an agreement.

 

“Perhaps tomorrow we can search for some additional members. Or start looking into ways to get back home, if you’re feeling up to it,” Ingo mumbled, not actually expecting any kind of response, more saying the words aloud just to put them out there instead of risking forgetting the idea overnight. “I’ve been hesitant to get close to the Rift on my own, and no one here has the courage to join me, but together, we can surpass any obstacle. Work towards a victory and all.”

 

“Do we have to?”

 

Ingo’s eyes snapped open. Whatever vestiges of sleep had begun to creep over his mind vanished in an instant. "What?"

 

“Nothing. Goodnight, Ingo.”

 

“Absolutely not,” he said, sitting up and turning over to shake Emmet’s arm. His brother resolutely ignored the jostling. “No, Emmet, you can’t pretend you fell asleep, it’s been ten seconds. What did you just say?”

 

Emmet hunched his shoulders, and Ingo could see him picking at the edges of the blanket. “I said. Do we have to?”

 

“What do you mean, do we have to, of course we do. However much of a place I may have made for myself here, you and my returning memories are enough of an indication that I don’t truly belong, saying nothing of how much of an outsider I remain despite my years here. And you,” Ingo continued, “you remember everything, you must be missing the modern day far more than I could. The amenities, yes-- but more importantly our friends. Our family, our Pokémon. Our life’s work. Why wouldn’t you want to get back to it as soon as possible?”

 

“Ingo, please,” Emmet said, and when he still refused to turn around, Ingo grabbed his arm and tugged him upright. With the windows closed and the candles snuffed there was no sort of light to offer any kind of visibility, and Ingo could rely only on his long-developed skill of seeing in the dark (and thank goodness that was simply a physical trait he’d honed over many years of traipsing through tunnels and not something he needed to remember how to do,) to make out the finer details of Emmet’s face. And, more importantly, the stricken look on display there. “We’re happy here, aren’t we? You like it here? You have a home here. My home is with you. Why can’t we just stay?”

 

“Where in the world is this coming from?” Ingo asked, bewilderment clear in his tone. Sure, he was reluctant to leave behind his duties as Warden, if only out of a sense of guilt knowing it would be a challenge for the Pearl Clan to replace him, but Emmet’s only attachment to Hisui was Ingo himself. And since Ingo would go wherever Emmet did, that wasn’t much of an attachment at all. “I have found contentment in my place here, yes, but I can’t say I would ever want to stay here indefinitely. Not now that I know there is a far better alternative.” 

 

Emmet did not say anything.

 

“Emmet, why don’t you want to go home?”

Still, he said nothing. Ingo glanced in roughly the direction of where the Rift lay above their heads-- Emmet followed his gaze, and for all they couldn’t see it past the thick walls of their home, he flinched.

 

Ingo asked; "Emmet, how did you get here?"

 

"I don't remember. It's not important," Emmet replied quickly. Too quickly. When Ingo had first asked the question, Emmet had said he didn’t remember, but it had been immediately after Emmet's arrival, and Ingo still hadn't recalled enough to be able to read his brother's relatively inexpressive voice without error. Now, though, he was perfectly able to decipher Emmet's tone, and Emmet might as well have been holding up a giant glowing sign that read I am lying.

 

"Emmet--"

 

"It's not important," he repeated with more emphasis, raising his hands to cover his ears. "Please stop. Don't ask me again."

 

"I need you to tell me the truth," Ingo said, gentle as he could, taking hold of Emmet's wrists and tugging his arms down. "It’s causing you distress, and for that, I need to know. I can’t help if you won’t let me in.”  

 

Emmet shook his head firmly, squeezing his eyes shut. Ingo reached up with one hand (keeping the other locked around his wrists) to cup it against his cheek.

 

“Emmet,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

 

There was only silence for long enough that Ingo thought he might need to up his game, perhaps bring in some guilt tripping to try and get Emmet to be honest (he needed to convince Emmet not to lie? What was the world coming to--), but after several lengthy moments, Emmet opened his mouth and began to talk;

 

"...I am Emmet. After you left, I was not okay. Our Depot Agents knew it. Elesa knew it. She told me to take a break. I didn’t want to-- When you came back, I didn’t want you to think I had been neglecting my duties. But Elesa insisted. So I took a break. I stayed at home for a while. Did some research. Tried to find out where you might have gone. It got... messy. Elesa didn’t like that either. She said, you need to get out of this apartment, so I left. I visited Alola. And then I visited Johto. I went to see the Magnet Train-- like we did when we were kids. I got overwhelmed. You weren't there. It was too different, without you. So I wandered. Too far. I found something in the forest. A Pokémon. It said, not many make it this far, traveler, and I said, why? It was easy. And the Pokémon said most realize they have too much to lose. I said, I have nothing to lose. It said, what do you want, traveler? I said, I want to see my brother again more than anything else. I don't care if he's mad at me. I want to see Ingo again."

 

Ingo listened attentively as he continued. "It looked sad. It said, I know where your brother is, traveler, and it pains me to say I cannot help you. He resides in the domain of another-- I cannot intrude. But you can. There has always been more forgiveness for humanity's errors than our own. It favors you. I did not understand. It said, go to Sinjoh. You will find a way, and I thought it had just said Sinnoh wrong. But it had not. There is a place called the Sinjoh Ruins. It is sacred to Arceus and the rest of Sinnoh's deities. I went in. I stayed there. And I woke up here. I thought-- I thought I had stayed too long. Much too long. I did not think this was entirely real. But I was happy to see you. So I did not ask questions. I did not worry. I stopped thinking about it. I am verrry good at focusing on the present."

 

"And I consider the possibilities of the future," Ingo added, softly. 

 

"Yup! It's a good combination. We are a good combination. I didn’t want to split us up again. I didn't want to think too hard about this. I didn't want to risk finding out it was a lie." He tried to pull his hands away, either to cross his arms or tug at his hair, and Ingo wouldn't allow either. He kept his grip on Emmet's wrists firm. Perhaps a little too firm, but Emmet didn't complain. "First I said, I don't care if he's mad, I want to see Ingo again. And then I said, I don't care if this is real, I get to see Ingo again. I know we need to go home. We have people missing us. The station misses us. Our Pokémon miss us. But what if this is not real? Ingo, I think about going home, and I see you disappearing again. I imagine you fading to smoke before my eyes. I wonder if this is not real, and the moment I leave, I will be back where I started. I could not stand it. I would not make it. I can't do that again." 

 

His voice was hoarse by the time he finished speaking, no doubt unused to giving such lengthy speeches, and Ingo would have followed the urge to get up and get him some water if there wasn’t a far louder impulse pushing him to give Emmet a hug right this second. With no chance of disobeying said impulse-- or any good reason to do so, really-- he acceded and leaned forward to pull Emmet into a tight hold. Emmet made a wounded noise, pressing his face into the crook of Ingo’s neck with enough force that it had to be hurting him.

 

"Emmet, why didn't you tell me you felt like this?" Ingo couldn't remember experiencing heartbreak to such a degree before, not even at seeing Emmet’s worse-for-wear state upon his arrival. Maybe it was just his spotty memory, but something told him that wasn't the case. (Something told him Emmet had always confided in him before anything ever escalated this far.) “Has this been bothering you since you first woke up here?”

 

“You were happy,” Emmet said, miserably. “You were getting better. You were remembering. I didn’t want to make you upset. And I didn’t want to make you think about whether this was real in case it wasn’t, and thinking about it made it stop happening.”

 

Ingo felt like he might start crying. He probably would have, if he didn’t know that Emmet would have taken any chance he could to redirect the conversation towards Ingo’s feelings instead of his own. Which could not be allowed to happen. Not right now. Not when Emmet was wracked with so much anxiety. 

 

His problems could wait. Emmet took priority.

 

How could he fix this, though? This-- this level of grief, this degree of dissociation-- His brother was willing to accept that he was living a false life, content to put himself through struggle after struggle, so long as it meant they could stay together a little longer. Despite the fact that it was all real, the simple fact that Emmet didn’t care if it wasn’t spoke lengths about how badly he was coping. 

 

For the first time since arriving in this foreign land with a broken mind, Ingo truly loathed his circumstances. He’d found himself tired of his situation before, exhausted by the weight placed on his shoulders. He’d been annoyed at his own inability to recall anything. But never had he felt this bone-deep hatred, this utter contempt for whatever incident had ripped him from his home, had stranded him in a time and place far from the one he belonged in, had left his brother alone . If he ever caught the person or thing that had done this to him-- done this to them-- there would be little room for mercy in his heart. Not when it was so full of anguish and resentment. 

 

Ingo’s arms shook as he clutched Emmet as tight as he was able, with enough force to make his ribs creak audibly. Not enough to break them; even with his strength being far greater than it used to be thanks to his active lifestyle, he knew how to moderate himself, and besides that he could never hurt his brother. It just wasn’t possible.

 

“This is real,” Ingo eventually whispered. He wasn’t sure if this was precisely the right thing to say, but he knew his brother well enough (remembered his brother well enough) to know what he’d need to hear. “Emmet-- I promise you with everything that I have and everything that I am, this is real. I am real. You are real. We are real. You did it, Emmet, you found a way. You found me. I cannot fathom how-- perhaps Arceus saw you and took mercy on you, or perhaps you arrived here through sheer force of will. If anyone could manage such a thing, it would be you. Consider, that if this were not real, it would be perfect, right? It would be unrealistic. But we have disagreements, we get hurt, sometimes things are not how we wish them to be. We face it all anyway, because that is all we can do, but let these imperfections convince you that this is truly happening.”

 

Emmet shook in his hold, gasping out a breath, and Ingo had to nudge his head up for fear he might suffocate himself with how forcibly he was pressing his face against Ingo’s shoulder. His eyes were wet, shining even in the low lighting, and his lip wobbled in a way that made Ingo feel... uncharacteristically violent towards anything that would dare to cause him pain. 

 

“Emmet,” Ingo said softly, both to make sure he kept his attention and just for the comfort of saying his brother’s name. "Take a breath. Focus on the way the air feels as it moves through your body. Like a steam locomotive." 

 

The comment earned him a smile, if a thin one. Emmet drew in a greedy inhale, though his following exhale was choppy and uneven. His next breath was smoother, the next one smoother still, each slower and deeper than the last, though he was clearly still struggling to keep them steady each time. Ingo moved one hand from Emmet's back to tug his brother's hand forward, placing it flat on his chest and taking several measured breaths of his own.

 

"I am the Subway Boss Ingo, and I will be your conductor for the day," he murmured, threading their fingers together as an afterthought. "Let me guide you down these tracks to a safe destination."

 

With the direction of Ingo's own unrelenting calm, the pace of Emmet's breathing settled.

 

"I would like to get you some water," Ingo said, still keeping his voice low. Preferably from the jar he kept outside so it would be cold, but he wasn't sure leaving Emmet completely alone even for that short amount of time was a good idea. "Is it okay if I move away? It won't take me more than a minute."

 

"I--" Emmet grimaced.

 

An idea occurred to Ingo, and without removing the arm he still had around Emmet's back, he reached over with his other hand to where their coats were draped across a nearby chair. Rifling through each pocket produced two Pokéballs-- one from each coat-- and the twin flickers of energy lit up the dark room like a flash of lightning. When the light faded, Tangela and Elekid were left seated on the bed, both looking mildly confused. 

 

"I have a very important job for the two of you," Ingo said, and while Tangela snapped to attention, Elekid ignored him in favor of clambering over Emmet's lap and cuddling up against his front. Ingo stifled a snort. "I see one of you is already fully aware of your task. Tangela, please help keep my brother grounded for a moment, the same way you do for me. I won't be long." 

 

Determination visible in its wide eyes, Tangela trotted across the bed to tuck itself against Emmet's side. It stood up as tall as it was able until Emmet set a hand on its head, at which point it shook its vines to get him to hold on tighter. 

 

"It will take less than a minute," Ingo repeated, firmer this time. "If you think it will help, I recommend counting the seconds that pass out loud."

 

Emmet pursed his lips, then nodded. Slowly, in case he reacted badly to the loss of contact, Ingo pulled away. But there was no such reaction. Emmet did shudder, but one hand curled around Elekid and fidgeted with its horns (the static shocks the space between said horns delivered probably helped, now that Ingo thought about it) while the other buried itself deeper into Tangela's vines. Assured that his brother would be fine for a moment, Ingo moved back, heading for the pitcher by the door. He grabbed the wooden cup strung by its handle from a shelf nearby (and he really needed more kitchenware, he realized, they were still mostly needing to share the singular set Ingo had acquired for himself), ladling some water into the cup, and he was seriously grateful he'd had the forethought to refill it the previous day. Imagine if he'd had to go all the way down to the spring to get fresh water. What a nightmare that would have created.

 

All the while he was accompanied by Emmet's quiet counting, starting at one when he pulled away and reaching fifty just as he sat back down on the bed. Rather than pull either of Emmet's hands away from the Pokémon they were occupied by, Ingo simply held the cup near enough that he could sip from it, one hand on the back of his neck to steady him.

 

Any other time Emmet might have protested such treatment (and Ingo would have been hesitant to subject him to it without asking permission like he’d done), but given his earlier upset... Ingo figured he wouldn't mind.

 

Once the cup had been emptied he set it aside, though kept his hand on Emmet's neck for a few moments longer. The contact was nice, and Emmet certainly wasn't complaining-- and while Ingo was momentarily worried that he simply couldn't put a voice to complaints he did have, a questioning noise and a flex of his fingers got a nod in reply. No complaints, then. 

 

"We should sleep," Ingo said lowly. "While I have no misconceptions that it will solve all our ills, I expect we will be better prepared to face them on a full night's rest." 

 

Emmet nodded again, head already drooping. It was late, far later than they usually stayed up, and strong emotions were always taxing on the both of them. Ingo didn't withdraw Elekid and Tangela-- the extra weight would only help-- but he did nudge them aside briefly so he could lie down, then draw Emmet close with an arm around him. The usual distance they kept was forgone, Emmet easily slotting against him with his head resting on Ingo's chest. Listening to his heartbeat, no doubt. Once they were both settled, Tangela found a spot in the crook made by Emmet's bent knees while Elekid wriggled into the space between his stomach and Ingo's side. (A space it was a little too big to fill, but Emmet seemed content, so Ingo said nothing.)

 

Ingo tilted his head down to press a kiss into Emmet's hair.

 

"This is real," he murmured. "You are real, and I am real. I am here, and I will still be here when you wake. Our cars are linked and I promise you that they will never be disconnected again. I will do whatever I must to make sure of it." 

 

He would, wouldn't he? There wasn't much of a question about it. For Emmet, he would do anything.

 

Emmet nodded at his words. One hand was tucked close to his chest, while the other curled in the fabric of Ingo's shirt and held fast. Perhaps ensuring he wouldn't disappear without Emmet noticing? A comfort he'd be damned if he denied Emmet, particularly when it offered him some security too. 

 

They were not meant to be apart. Not for any great length of time, at least.

 

While it took no time at all for Emmet to drift to sleep, Ingo forced himself awake a little while longer. Mostly to keep an eye on Emmet and make sure he wouldn't be woken too soon by ill dreams, but also to give himself a few moments of respite. 

 

They would need to go home eventually. They had people who missed them, Pokémon who missed them, and even the station would start to miss them if they were gone for too long. (He had to assume that time was still passing in the future despite them being in the past-- Ingo's own absence had been noticed, and thinking about it too hard made his head hurt, so he just let his paltry understanding of the finer points of time travel be good enough.) Deep down, they were both creatures of habit, and they'd start to miss their old routines. They already both missed trains. 

 

That being said, if Emmet truly didn't want to leave just yet and was not just clinging to willful ignorance as a security blanket, then Ingo had no problem at all lengthening their stay. He did enjoy parts of Hisui. The quiet was nice, and though he missed Nimbasa's endless ambiance, he could recall being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the insomniac city even before his unintended commute. Besides, he wouldn't want to leave in the middle of this frenzy business if it were up to him alone-- for as much as Emmet took priority (and always would take priority), Ingo did owe the Pearl Clan a great deal. The least he could do was not abandon them in the midst of a crisis.

 

So they'd stay until this plucky young Galaxy Recruit got that sorted. Perhaps they would look into the Rift to see if it was at least an option for transit home, but until then, they would settle. They'd catch complete teams for the both of them. Perhaps they would even try to teach Hisui about the modern approach to Pokémon, living with them instead of just tolerating each other's presence, battling alongside them instead of simply dishing out orders.

 

And then, when they were ready, they'd find a way home. It wouldn't be hard with the two of them working in tandem. Until that day arrived, they would simply face whatever came next, and they would do it together. Wherever-- or whenever life brought them.

 

Come what may, they would be alright.

 

(He closed his eyes.)

 

With Emmet here, Ingo was home.

Notes:

title is from "keep you safe" by the crane wives, which despite this being from ingo POV, aligns REALLY well with emmet's vibes for this one

im back on the submas train again so you know what that means: a sequel to a fic i didnt know was getting a sequel thats twice the length as the original, and blue to thank as the beta for this work :]!!!

i also have Several other submas wips. fell back into this fixation and fell HARD
post-script dedicating this to catpie because you deserve it <3 enjoy brainrot

all relationships portrayed are exclusively platonic/familial, and all physical affection here is indicative of that kind of relationship. please do not associate me or my writing with any romantic interpretation of these characters

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of find a home (and share it with you)