Heaviness

Flip rolled his neck and released a long sigh. The breath escaped, but its heaviness lingered. It had been hovering over him so long, he didn’t feel it as much these days, but recent events had brought it all swirling back.

After splitting with the others, Flip had wandered the streets until he came across the Chargestone Tavern.

A large building hewn from rock, it was a spacious room filled with tables. Chandeleirs hung from the ceiling, light bouncing off crystal filaments in the walls and casting a blue glow throughout the place.

A Kricketune and Ferrothorn duet were tucked into a small alcove, playing music. The sound was strange, Flip couldn’t pick the genre, but he didn’t mind it.

A long bar was set against the back wall, a Cofagrigus rapidly serving drinks with its four ghostly hands. Flip sat atop a tall wooden stool at the bar, sipping his drink through a straw.

Thoughts of his brother running rampant through his mind, Flip lamented at the unfairness of it all. His brother had been good, kind. He didn’t deserve any of it. It should have been someone else. They should have had more time.

A Lucario cleared her throat, pulling Flip from his thoughts. Glancing over, he found her staring at him and drumming her paw atop the bar.

‘Can I help you?’ Flip asked.

‘Eager to get back to your brooding?’ Lucario laughed softly, shaking her head. ‘I was enjoying my drink until you walked in. Your aura is so cold and noisy I can hardly think straight. If you’d like, I could sell you a magnet, pull that hunk of lead out of your chest.’

Xatu’s words ringing in his ears, Flip frowned. ‘Lead isn’t magnetic.’

Lucario pouted. ‘That’s a shame. Guess you’re stuck with all those emotions. And,’ she drawled, ‘I’m stuck with a sour drink, until you leave.’

When Flip simply raised his brows, Lucario rolled her eyes and walked from the bar. ‘Life isn’t fair,’ she muttered.

Flip scoffed at that, at the truth of it. Life isn’t fair. Pokemon like Bisharp wreak havoc, and cause suffering. Then, they just walk away. Sure, this time they’ll pay somewhat for their crimes, but what’s to stop them from doing it again? They don’t deserve that chance.

And Nick. Oh, people like Nick, who toy with others for their own fun. What do they deserve? Well, if Flip had his way, then- ‘I dreamt of you, tearing me apart with your bare hands! I’m sure you could do it!’

Flip’s mind reeled as he remembered Nick’s words. They had simply been a taunt, but sitting here, his anger seething, they were scarily real. If Flip wanted, he could simply kill Nick and wouldn’t even feel anything for it.

After all, Nick wouldn’t be the first. It was Flip’s fault that his brother was gone. It was Flip’s fault they didn’t have more time. It was Flip’s fault-

Those thoughts circled endlessly in his mind. Hours passed, patrons came and went, and still Flip sat, drowning in guilt and the bottomless glass before him.

It was never supposed to happen like this. Flip, and his brother, deserved another chance. Wasn’t that owed to them? Wasn’t it their right? Wasn’t it there, for the taking?

Dark thoughts filled his mind and his stomach couldn’t do it anymore. Bile rose in his throat and Flip vomited his drinks across the bar.

There was angry yelling from the Cofagrigus, but Flip was hardly aware. He didn’t notice as he was lifted from the stool, and tossed out the window. Wordlessly, Flip stood, moseyed back to the inn and collapsed into a bed, unaware of Vine’s shuddering form across the room.

Several hours earlier, across town, Nick scurried through throngs of people. Crowing and whinging, he dodged the footfalls of Pokemon much larger than him and searched for a way out of the crowd.

Muttering to himself, he leapt towards the nearest shop and scaled the outside wall, until he was perched atop the roof.

Drifas was a big city and it was filled with people. Not only on the ground, though. Massive stalactites hung from the cavern’s ceiling. Pokemon like Magneton and Crobat could be seen flying in and out of entrances bored into the rock. Durant crawled from the ceiling, down the reversed spires and into their hives. In between the stalactites hung gleaming yellow webs, Joltik and Galvantula scurrying about atop them.

For a moment, Nick’s stared in wonderment. The business and the crowds fell away and it occurred to him the sheer number, and weight, of all the lives down here.

A distant music reaching his eyes, Nick perked up and found himself racing across the rooftops, chasing the sound. Eventually finding the source, he sat on a rooftop, near an open air theatre, and listened.

Musicians played, and sang, and Nick found himself grasping at the air, as if he could hold the music, but it slipped through his fingers. So much beauty fell upon his ears, and unable to catch it, he could only sit in awe.

Eventually, the musicians stopped, thanked their audience, and left the stage. A Machamp strode onto the stage, holding an elegant piano overhead. It gently placed the instrument down and scurried off-stage, returning a moment later with a stool.

Machamp sat, flexed its fingers, took a deep breath, and played. The melody was simple. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as the previous musicians. Machamp’s large clumsy hands made mistakes, pressing the wrong notes and fumbling over the keys. Still, Machamp smiled, and played, and it was breathtaking. Nowhere near perfect, but unarguably special. At least, to Nick.

The simple innocence sparked something inside him and Nick worriedly searched his chest, thinking he’d been struck, but despite the odd sensation he felt, he could find no proof of injury. Indeed, unable to hold the music, Nick was left with nothing but a smile, and a foreign, but not unwelcome, feeling of warmth.

Nick sat, listening for hours, completely absorbed in the music. Eventually, he came back to reality, his stomach growling at him for his neglect.

Grunting, Nick punched his gut into silence and began scurrying back to the inn. Upon arrival, he found Vine and Flip seemingly fast asleep. Nick gulped down a Gravellyrock he’d bought on his way back, dropped into the third bed, and slept.

Severals hour later, the gang had all awoken, not rested by any means, but keen to leave the city behind them. Vine had shaken off the nightmare, chalking it up to physical and emotional exhaustion. The past several days had been a lot.

Flip was silent as he prepared to leave, seemingly lost in thought. Likewise, Nick was quiet, perhaps for the first time in his life. The Sableye gave nothing away and hid a torrent of thoughts within his normally empty head.

With little discussion, they left Drifas and began the long trek out of the mountain.

Several hours later, emerging from dark caverns, Flip moseyed out onto the rocky floor of a valley. He glanced ahead, and continued marching.

A moment after, Nick strolled from the tunnel. The Sableye had been quiet for some time, but now he gasped. His gaze started on the stone beneath his feet, then stretched, noticing the soft green grass which spread, flowers blooming in haphazard clusters. Their colours radiant, petals glistening with dew. The mountains curled around the valley, as if embracing the land, cradling this field in a loving grasp. At the far end of the valley was a gap, a spot where the mountains embrace was broken, and beyond it was the rising sun. Light spilled over the edges of the mountain, pouring inwards and bathing the land in warm golden light.

A deep shuddering breath racked his body and Nick couldn’t help but stare, the light glinting off his gemstone eyes.

Vine, his brows furrowed, floated near, resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘Nick, you alright?’

Trying to speak, Nick found his mouth dry. He swallowed, gesturing at the scene before him. ‘Has, has that always been there?’

Craning his neck, Vine’s gaze scanned the field, but upon finding nothing out of the ordinary, his head tilted. ‘What?’

‘The,’ Nick searched for the words, but came up short. His outstretched arms reached, grasping for something they could never hold.

Realisation dawning like the morning sky, Vine smiled, and squeezed Nick’s shoulder. ‘Yes.’

‘How, how have I never seen it before?’

Vine nodded sagely. ‘One of the greatest wounds a person can suffer is to become indifferent to beauty.’

Nick stumbled forwards and fell to his knees. Running his hands through the grass, he plucked a flower, studied it, then laid it back. ‘It’s… heavy.’

Feeling the warmth on his ghostly body, Vine closed his eyes and smiled. ‘Good. Let things be as heavy as they are. Then, let them go.’

‘Or hunt them down, and take them back.’

Startled, Vine glanced up. Flip was standing nearby, staring into the distance. A dark look was upon his face and his gaze was a thousand yards away.

Vine’s head tilted. ‘Flip?’

Flip smiled, a wide, unnerving grin. ‘Vine, I know what I’m searching for now, but it’s far from here.’

Without hesitation, Vine nodded. ‘That’s fine. Let’s go.’

His grin growing impossibly wider, Flip turned on his heel and began hurrying through the field. Though, he crashed to the ground as Nick leapt at him from behind, sending them both sprawling.

Flip jumped to his feet, a cry of outrage erupting from his mouth. The sound sent chills down Nick’s spine, and Flip’s tone did nothing to ease the fear.

‘What?’ Demanded Flip.

Nick raised his hands innocently, his teeth gleaming as he grinned. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye.’

The anger steadily seeping away, Flip blinked and straightened up. ‘What?’ He asked again, gentler this time.

Nick shrugged. ‘I’m gonna stay in Drifas for awhile. It suits me.’

Vine smiled and nodded. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised.’

‘Just disappointed?’ Chuckled Nick.

‘No,’ Vine grabbed Nick’s shoulders. ‘If you’ve found where you want to be, then I’m happy for you. Isn’t that why we set out?’

A laugh shook Nick’s body, but Flip could’ve sworn there was another sound mixed in, something like a broken cry.

Nick sighed and nodded. ‘I’ll see you both again. It’ll be like old times.’

Nick meant it. He really did. So please, don’t blame him. He couldn’t know that it wasn’t true. It wasn’t his fault.

Vine shuffled back as Nick turned to look at Flip. ‘I meant to wait longer before telling you this.’ Nick paused, releasing a great sigh. ‘I hate you, Flip.’

Flip’s brow rose. He couldn’t say he was surprised, nor disappointed. The feeling wasn’t mutual, but he didn’t much care for Nick. The Sableye’s leaving would be a relief, like shaking free of a parasite.

‘I hate you,’ continued Nick, ‘because we’re the same, and you won’t admit it.’ Noticing the sudden rigidity in Flip, Nick considered stopping, but forged ahead nonetheless. ‘There ain’t no meaning to any of this! There’s no reasoning behind any of it! There’s only what is, and what isn’t, but you can’t see that. You’re still waiting for that moment when something changes, everything becomes clear and all your problems, whatever they are, are suddenly solved. It’s not gonna happen.’

His tone growing angry, Nick jabbed a finger at Flip. ‘Stop looking for meaning, because you ain’t gonna find it. Just do what you want with the time you got, but don’t keep pretending that I’m not right.’

Outwardly, Flip was still, but his mind raged. He was furious because Nick was right. Well, mostly. They are the same, Flip had finally come to terms with it. Yet, there was a key difference; strength. There’s only what is, what isn’t, and what the strong can make of it, and Flip was so consumed by the thoughts of what he’d make that he couldn’t hear Nick say:
’You’re not alone.’

Vine smiled upon the pair. Flip and Nick had always fought, and Vine had always wondered what went through the Sableye’s mind, and now he knew. Nick was undeniably a trouble-making gremlin, but he wasn’t blind. Nick had seen how Flip clung to the past. All of this had been Nick’s attempt to set Flip free.

And while Nick was still a nihilist, he had found something in the caverns. No, not a trinket to fill his pocketses, and not meaning, but something worth chasing. Something worth discovering, and giving. It didn’t give life meaning, but the beauty he found, and his eagerness to share it were heavy things. Truly, that became Nick’s philosophy. Seek not meaning, but weight. Feel the heft of all things, and then let them go, and indeed, Nick felt the weight of his goodbyes.

With excitement, and sorrow, Nick waved them goodbye, and scurried into the tunnels. Already, his mind churned with the things he’d share when they were reunited. It really is a shame that he wouldn’t get that chance.

Tell me, is it mercy to allow someone to hold onto hope or is it better they give up early and wait to die? Nick had changed his mind, had now chosen the first option. Should his choice be celebrated or pitied?