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After his defeat at the hands of Touya, N left.
He never had a set destination, he just traveled around on the back of Zekrom, walking occasionally, seeing how pokemon really lived with humans.
At every city, N would bring up friendly chatter with trainers walking around with their pokemon partners, eyeing how the pokemon eagerly tried joining in on the conversation, backing up their trainers with bristling tempers when abuse was even implied.
Even those who weren’t trainers and just lived idly with the creatures were defended by their fire types or rock types or whoever they bonded with. N realized that pokemon were not tools, but usually considered trusted members of one’s family. Those who thought of them as lesser were outcasts--scorned and distrusted.
The two were so closely woven together that separating them would result in the destruction of both worlds. One could no longer live without the other.
It was almost a sinking realization to N. Touya and everyone else had told him this, and he never listened. He watched people and pokemon run around excitedly in Nimbasa, sitting in resignation on Zekrom’s shoulders, out of immediate view. He was relieved, first and foremost, but also sort of depressed. What was he to do? If pokemon didn’t desperately need a savior for N to be, what was his purpose now? Should he keep wandering around aimlessly, talking to strangers? People-watching and envying their simplicity?
He sighed and sank his head further into his arms. Zekrom shifted his gaze to N out of the corner of his eye and grumbled a complaint.
“I am not sulking,” N grumbled back. But he was. He knew he was.
Zekrom merely exhaled heavily through his nostrils. Not a minute later he spoke again. “You will fall into a depression, if this continues.”
N murmured something about not letting himself.
Zekrom gave a harsh huff. “It is not something you can control, especially if you don’t do anything about it.” He turned his great head to look at the boy. “This behavior is extremely uncharacteristic of you, N. I expected better from you.”
N merely grimaced and twisted his head to the side, bringing his knees closer to his chest and resting his head on his arms. Zekrom didn’t need to speak for N to understand the dragon’s growing irritation. He could feel the hot electric gaze left of his shoulder.
“I know you have a lot to think about after we fell to Touya, N, but-”
N shook his head. “Please don’t finish that thought,” he said wearily.
Zekrom narrowed his eyes, but said nothing else. He turned his head forward and glared out at a pair of young boys with spiky hair playing one of the game booths opposite of the ferris wheel. Both were yelling loudly and competitively, but it seemed to be in good humor, each trying to out-do the other until one could no longer shoot any more little basketballs because he was laughing too hard. Zekrom watched them tussle lightly before moving on to their next activity, disappearing into Elesa’s old gym. Zoroark clambered up onto Zekrom’s shoulder next to N by the time the last shoe vanished in a red flash into the building. Zekrom gave a quiet grunt, his standard of an acceptable hello, and N looked up at the dark-type, eyes alight and his cheeks lifting in a hopeful smile.
His smile fell when Zoroark lowered his gaze and shook his head with a dismissive shrug. The pokemon tilted his head back and blinked, frowning. He wrinkled his snout before splitting his jaws in a loud yawn, sharp fangs glinting in the yellow half-light of the beginning of dusk. “It’s already been what?” he said through the yawn, “A month or two? Since you’ve sent me to search for him?” He sat with a grunt next to N and began picking at dirt between his claws absently. “He’s probably just going around eastern Unova. The east coast is nice, Undella’s popular. Just ‘cause he’s not staying at the pokemon league being champion doesn’t mean he’s been like, kidnapped or something.”
N frowned in agreement and rocked his head a little. “You have a point Zoroark,” he admitted. Almost immediately after he became champion and N had fled the castle, Touya had ducked away from the league as the standing champion. Alder had said in an interview that he would wait a hefty chunk of time to see if the boy would return to uphold the position, but Touya never did. N had flown to the league himself only last week to find that Alder had taken over again in Touya’s absence, but was only vaguely worried, and had told N that the boy was simply not ready to commit to being a whole champion. He was still just a kid, almost sixteen, and likely wanted to spend more time with his pokemon. It was never too big of an issue, as it was common for young trainers to become champion but quickly abandon the position.
N had begrudgingly agreed then, not liking how Alder spoke as if he understood Touya more than N, but now, ten some weeks later, N sat on Zekrom’s shoulder, recalling the memory and realizing with the same resignation how little he actually knew about Touya.
He knew his team, it consisted of a Serperior he received as a starter in Nuvema, a brash Simipour, a shockingly detached Excadrill, an Unfezant that N personally thought was too dedicated to his trainer, a young Galvantula, and a silent but judgemental Haxorus, who watched N with an unrelenting eye filled with distrust and something that bordered on hate. N had pitied it back then, believing it a fool for being so easily manipulated into a trainer’s hands and not understanding the concept of true freedom, but now understood that the dragon-type saw N as the fool, a weak man who always believed himself to be right, a boy who expected anyone he so chose to be a martyr for his selfish purposes.
The Haxorus had been right, and N still had yet to hear it speak.
N also knew of a Musharna Touya had given to his mother to take care of while he was away, but other than that and Reshiram, N found himself drawing blanks at anything else he thought he’d known about Touya. He had always assumed his favorite color to be blue, his favorite type to be grass, but he discarded the assumptions upon recollection. He had only ever assumed about Touya. He was supposed to be his friend now, and if he assumed everything he had done when he was a fool just a few months prior, he would only find himself retracing his steps and guiding himself right back to loneliness.
His empty contemplation was interrupted very suddenly by a loud frantic squawking and several people shouting in alarm. N’s head shot up from his arms and he stood sharply, eyes widened and muscles tense. His gaze darted around the city below, looking for an injured or rampaging pokemon, but realized he was looking in the wrong place when Zoroark grumbled and jumped on his shoulders, sending N staggering forward. The pokemon roughly grabbed N’s chin and directed his gaze upwards, where his mouth formed a silent ‘oh’.
Archeops was frantically flapping towards them, his eyes wild and urgent. People were gasping up at him as he flailed into the ferris wheel, loose down dislodging from his body and fluttering down to the passerby.
Zoroark released N’s jaw and jumped down with a hefty shove to N’s shoulders and a snicker. N caught himself with a hand to Zekrom’s snout, rubbing his chin to ease the ache from the dark-type’s claws. He looked back up at Archeops, wincing as the fossil pokemon dropped onto Zekrom’s shoulder with minimal grace. Zekrom looked away.
“Touya!” Archeops cried immediately. “I have seen Touya at Accumula Town!’
Zoroark gave a bark of excitement and cracked a paw down on Archeops’ head in praise. “Atta boy!” he shouted. He whirled around and leapt from Zekrom’s shoulder to his generator tail, scrambling in his haste to visit the trainer. N grinned and ran his fingers through the feathers on Archeops’ neck in a more thankful gesture. Archeops let out a mellow purr and immediately requested to be put in his pokeball, as all the flying was tiring and he deserved his rest.
Zekrom began to turn, pausing only for N to position himself just behind the dragon’s neck before taking off.
Zekrom and N made it to Accumula far before Zoroark, who complained about being left behind but was met with the argument of taking off on his own, so he merely grumbled and tracked Touya’s scent trail to the pianist and percussionist’s house on the raised platform. N followed, and was hesitant to enter. He could hear Touya talking quietly to the artists inside, his words barely even audible to N, let alone distinguishable. The artists’ responses were more distinct, their voices soft and gentle, and N could hear that they were agreeing to play a song. Zoroark looked at him pointedly before falling onto all fours and loping off to join Zekrom where he had flown somewhere towards Route 18. N peered over the raise as the fox scuttled off, blinking as he warped himself into an illusion of an unsuspecting Purrloin, slipping past pedestrians as they cooed at him when he swished by.
N turned back to the door. The pianist’s seat creaked as she settled to play. N heard Touya sit down, heard the telltale click of a pokeball, and the quiet sound of Serperior’s scales sliding on the wood floor. The air began to smell of lemon and lilacs. Aromatherapy.
N had befriended a Petilil a while after the start of his journey. She had used Aromatherapy and it had only ever smelled distantly of sandalwood. Peculiar.
Perhaps it depended on the pokemon.
Or the trainer.
The sharp tap of the percussionist’s sticks hitting the edge of the drum made N jump, yanking away the memory of a wild Petilil peering up at him with hopeful eyes and silken leaves.
Right. Touya.
The percussionist began to draw out a somber but steady beat, hitting the drums not too loudly before the pianist joined in. They played like flowers, N thought, blossoming under their airy notes and livening the town with flourishing colors.
The piano notes twinkled in his ears, and N reconsidered briefly. They could also be a great night, blinking stars and curious winds that instilled within one a sense of foreboding, adventure, or if they were lucky, ease.
The sun had set, and when N looked up he could see a few shy constellations, peering out from under the blanket of dark sky. The horizon was still a fading orange, the trees black against the dying light.
The music inside swelled into something heartbreaking, and N put his hand on the doorknob.
He turned it at a crescendo, and stepped in as silently as a dream.
Touya didn’t notice him, didn’t turn to look at him, and the musicians just kept playing.
He stood limply. The piano was much louder now. The notes violent, yet delicate and caressing. N was suddenly very conscious of his own heartbeat. He could hear his cold breath over the drums.
Serperior straightened, catching her trainer’s attention. She sharply swiveled her head around, fixing N with a glare, accusing him as an intruder. Touya turned. His wonderful, dark eyes looking over his shoulder. His eyes widened, and his lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.
N said nothing, only stared. Quietly. Fearfully.
Touya returned the stare, his eyes darting around N’s face and figure as if he was contemplating if it was really there. His stare found its way back into N’s, and it was a moment before N realized the music had become quiet.
Touya noticed too, and when he turned away to look at the questioning musicians, N was oddly disappointed. He squared his shoulders and walked stiffly to where Touya sat. Serperior curled around her trainer as N sat down a close yet safe distance from the two. The music resumed, and neither spoke.
A breeze meandered through the window, and N saw Touya close his eyes out of the corner of his vision. Serperior rested her head on her trainer’s lap, Touya placing a hand under her chin and the other atop her spine. They seemed content, and N was glad for it.
The soulful notes of the piano rang like stars. The room now smelled of rosemary and lavender. The drums beat like a mellow heart.
N closed his eyes.
It took a while for N to register Touya’s warm hand on his shoulder, gently shaking his slumped body.
Kricketot and Kricketune were humming softly from the forest outside. N scrunched up his face, disgruntled, and blearily blinked open his eyes. Green was the only thing he saw at first, thinking his hair a sleep-swept mess, but then Serperior slithered from his view. N sat up straighter and watched her form, half-blurred from sleep, wind around Touya’s legs before poking at her pokeball around his belt. She disappeared in a beam of red, and they were alone. N turned his gaze to Touya, who looked as tired as he felt. The boy offered a pale smile, and let his hand fall from N’s shoulder before he turned for the door. “Come on,” he murmured, whispered. N barely heard it.
He stood and trailed after Touya, into the cool night air. The path was yellow in the pooling streetlights and N could see Woobat and Swoobat flitting through the air, scanning for vulnerable Kricketot. An angry Zorua snapped at one as it flew by.
N saw the fox pokemon catch his eye, it glared at him with a snarl and bounded off into the shadows of the bushes and buildings. He returned his focus to Touya, who walked ahead of him, silently, like a ghost. His footsteps barely made a sound.
N paused. Touya looked very small, very frail, breakable only by a breeze.
He shook his head. He knew Touya was strong, he was the Hero of Truth after all, Reshiram loved him, N lost to him, and he had conquered Unova with his ever-loyal Serperior.
But, N supposed, Touya was still a kid. They both were.
Touya looked over his shoulder briefly, checking to see if N was still following. N walked a little faster.
Route one was deserted, the pokemon absent in favor of sleep, save for a pair of Patrat watching them with suspicion from atop the mound of their burrow. The rustle of the tall grass and the soft gushes of ocean were calming as they walked in the dark, away from the town’s lights.
The dim street lights of Nuvema came into view, but their pace didn’t change. Touya was still silent ahead of him, and when N let his thoughts wander, he’d forget he was even there.
Touya’s home was empty, he mutedly explained that his mother was out overnight at the pokemon center in Lacusona, a Tropius in dire condition after a nasty encounter with a Glalie from the Giant Chasm. N asked if he was welcome in the home while she was away, and Touya frowned in thought, his expression not changing much, and eventually waved the question off. It weighed a little sour on N’s tongue.
When Touya flicked on the lights, they burned N’s eyes and he squinted. Touya, also blinded, fumbled to take off his shoes, almost knocking the coat rack over. N suppressed a snort of laughter at the other’s clattering. He slid off his own shoes when Touya moved into the living room, and walked hurriedly to follow him. He faltered awkwardly, realizing there wasn’t anything to do, so he just kept following his friend, across the room, into a hall, into a… bathroom?
“Oh,” N started loudly, when Touya looked at him, baffled, “oh I’m so sorry, I’m-” he tried to hastily back out, but knocked his heel into the trash can and bumped into the doorframe.
Touya gave a snort of amusement, and pressed on the edge of the mirror, revealing a cabinet. He reached in, rifling around for a moment before tentatively pulling out a pill bottle. He kicked a stool to the far wall and gestured at N. “You can sit,” he offered.
Meds, N thought. He’s just taking meds. He stepped forward a little crookedly, and sat down awkwardly, his long legs weird in the space. Touya gave another puff of faint laughter, and N found it bearable.
The brunette put his back to the countertop, twisting off the cap. N peered at the label, but it was covered by his hand. “When did you start taking meds?” he queried.
Touya shrugged and fiddled with the cap in his hand. “Medications are common,” he pointed out, “my mom has some for her joints I think, and I only got mine kinda recently, a month ago I think? I didn’t want to go to the doctor’s, but my mom insisted.” he leaned against the counter, propping his upper body up with his elbow. “Got officially diagnosed with depression I guess.”
His voice was quiet. The distant hum of the fluorescent lights was louder than he was. N wondered if barely being able to hear Touya would be a permanent thing now. The sink was turned on and a plastic cup was filled. A few pills went missing and Touya took a swig of water, dumping the rest. The clicking of the cap returning to the top of the bottle was too loud.
He shifted his gaze to the few pill bottles on the white marble, and up to the surplus of them in the mirror cabinet. Aspirins, glucosamine, buspirone, diuretics, tylenol, calcium, vitamin C, ibuprofen, and far, far too many bottles of-
N curiously picked up a small container and peered at its label. He blinked. “Sleeping pills?”
Touya twitched and snatched the bottle out of N’s hand. “Y-yeah,” he rasped. He cleared his throat and turned away, returning the bottle to the cabinet behind the mirror. “I’ve been uh, having-” he paused for barely half a second, “nightmares. Too.”
Guilt crushed N’s chest. “What are you having nightmares about?”
Closing the cabinet, Touya opened his mouth to respond, but paused, his face becoming blank. N stiffened. Was he so traumatized by their conflict that it took effort to even remember dreams?
Almost as quickly as Touya had paused, he resumed, his face scrunching ever so slightly in mild concentration, his eyes flicking to his upper right. “Ghetsis,” he said simply, abruptly.
N blinked, but the guilt weighed no lighter. He was useless on the sidelines as Touya had faced his madman of a father, alone. He could only watch as Ghetsis’ Hydreigon had rushed past Haxorus and aimed a Dragon Pulse directly at Touya’s vulnerable figure, only foiled by Haxorus’ quick reflexes and Unfezant leaping out of his pokeball to use Protect. When the dust had settled and Haxorus had dragged Hydreigon away from its trainer, N looked at Touya with matching expressions of horror. Serperior slid out of her pokeball and curled defensively around him, Unfezant perching atop her head, feathers ruffled and aggressive.
Even though Touya had won, N suddenly got the feeling that he never considered it as such.
“I’m afraid of sleeping because of them,” Touya sighed, locking the cabinet with a quiet click, “but I need sleep, apparently, according to my team, my mother, my sister, and everyone else, so…” he trailed off and shrugged, shifting his gaze back to N. “Gotta do something about it I guess.”
N looked up at him and met his eyes. His heart sank.
Touya’s eyes were so hollow. N wasn’t sure if he should relate them to glass or not because while he seemed to stare right through them, they offered no reflections. Empty, and borderline lifeless. He had always likened them to the comfort of a dark honey or warm hot chocolate, but now he only saw something that reminded him of dried blood, deoxidized on old clothes.
Touya blinked slowly and stepped quietly out of the room. N murmured a half-hearted agreement and stood, following in his footsteps as Touya flicked off the lights. N stepped past him and he closed the door to the room with too-clean counters and a mirror-cabinet with too many prescription pills, the little orange and white bottles stark and ominous amongst the pale marble. The room was cold and lonely, but it was clear to him that Touya’s current state of mind was colder and lonelier.
They idled in the living room for a while, Touya grooming Unfezant’s feathers with careful hands while N ran his fingers through Simipour’s mane, absently watching some news channel reporting Touko’s victory against Alder and claiming the position as Unova’s champion. Simipour hissed at the anchor’s offhand jibe at Touya for running away from the responsibility rather than embracing it like his sister. N gave the water-type a gentle discouraging nudge, but agreed with his resentment.
Another long moment passed, the only noise being the low-volumed babbling of the television and the quiet snipping of grooming scissors.
It was almost pleasant, but N knew better. The atmosphere was heavy, almost depressing. Zekrom wouldn’t want to sit in the mood for long.
It was a thought that had been cycling through N’s brain for several weeks. “I’m... thinking of going to Alola.”
Touya stilled from where he was trimming Unfezant’s chest feathers. He didn’t look at N like he had hoped. No gaze filled with curiosity or shining with wonder at the recently connected region.
The silence dragged on, and N began to make an uncomfortable realization that maybe he was beginning to have a warped comprehension of the fellow trainer, or maybe he would have reacted as expected, once upon a time, but no longer could.
N shifted uneasily, earning an irritated snarl from Simipour and an interrogating look from Unfezant. Neither said anything. He cleared his throat. “Just- just for a while, to see the um, the pokemon that have been discovered there, and their relationship with people native to the region.”
Touya’s hand lowered, his grip on the grooming scissors loosening. Unfezant ruffled his feathers in agitation and let out a squawk of displeasure. N wondered if dropping it on them now had been a bad idea. He’d never been particularly good at interacting with Touya, or whatever their relationship was now.
N chewed on his bottom lip, he looked at the flower vase on the coffee table, studying the delicate petals rather than stare directly at Touya or his pokemon. Simipour ducked away from his hand and N quickly returned it to his lap.
Simipour jumped off the couch and to Touya’s side, roughly patting the other teen’s back in his monkey-like way. He chittered gently, reassuringly, but didn’t say any words for N to pick up.
So his pokemon were avoiding N, he could understand that. Touya’s team had never really liked him in the first place.
N cleared his throat. He gestured forward with his hands. “You could come with me,” he offered.
Unfezant’s long face feathers twitched, and Simipour stopped patting Touya’s back in favor of simply resting his paw on his shoulder. N blinked, and the room seemed to still entirely, the television background noise while even the wind and chirping Pidove outside seemed to be trapped between gears of time, grinding together painfully as it tried to move on.
A petal fell off one of the flowers.
Touya carefully shrugged off Simipour’s paw and continued snipping the last few too-long feathers.
“No,” he murmured plaintively.
And that was that.
The anchorman loudly announced a pokemon outbreak on Route 9. Silently, N reached for the remote and turned off the television.
N stood, thanked Touya for the hospitality and wished him and his team well. He let himself out, feeling the burning gazes of Unfezant and Simipour on his back until he closed the door. The air was fresh, but did nothing for him. He turned back towards Route 1, carefully parting the tall grass as to not disturb any Lillipup or Patrat, and continued to Route 18, surfing on Carracosta’s rough shell. The fossil pokemon swam slowly, but when he asked what was running through N’s head, the boy turned him down, and the water and rock-type sped up.
N prepared only bare essentials for a trip to Alola. Zekrom was well rested for the flight, eager to cross the sea, and those of N’s pokemon who wanted to stay in Unova rather than endure the hot weather were released and left to their own devices. N said they were free to go or could return to him when he arrived back in Unova, some month or so. Carracosta blinked slowly and shuffled off to Route 17. Vanilluxe showered him in affectionate snow before zooming off to Twist Mountain with Klinklang hot on their heels. Zoroark barked at him from atop Zekrom’s head, and Archeops nuzzled N before going back into his pokeball. Zekrom lowered his claws for N to board, and lifted off once he was secure with Zoroark on the back of his neck.
As they soared over Castelia and Floccesy, N decided he was going to tell Touya all about Alola when he got back.
(Except Touya wasn’t there when he got back.)
(The room and the bottles were empty.)