26. On the Same Page

Everything ached.

Though the oran berries had alleviated the worst of Nip’s pain, the evening’s walk flared his bruises and scratches and burns all over again. Exhaustion made his feet drag across the dusty ground. As the evening passed, the vegetation around them thinned, a sign of their elevation. But the high slope to their left made it clear there was still a long way to the peak.

All the while, he tried to remain alert, on the lookout for any opportunity to make a break for it. But exhaustion made it harder, a fact he was unfortunately all too familiar with.

Now, sometime after dark, his captors finally elected to stop and camp for the night. The strange zoroark scurried off and disappeared into a nearby copse, returning shortly thereafter with an armful of wood. She dropped them on the grassy path and set to work digging a small pit. Then she arranged the wood inside, stepping out of the way to let the charizard start a fire after she had finished.

All the while that… Gorochu — or whatever Topaz called himself — watched over both Nip and Haru, leering with undisguised malice. Across the clearing, Umbra, too, stared at Nip, eyes narrow and mouth set in a thin line. And why would she hide her disdain? She had no reason to. His captors were basically on her side, and Haru was as much a prisoner as he.

Nip swallowed thickly, ear lying flat as he averted his gaze. If Umbra had her way, she’d find a way to kill him in the night. He was afraid to sleep. He was afraid that if he did, he’d never wake up. Or would she want him awake to feel his death? He wouldn’t put it past her.

To his side, Haru sank to the ground. He snapped out of his anxious trance, focusing on the bidoof instead. She looked as tired as he felt, eyes drooping shut. He wanted nothing more than to drop on the ground and rest too. But he needed to stay vigilant, a point that felt all the more important when the zoroark approached them.

“We need a way to keep our… guests from wandering off,” Susana mumbled, just loud enough that he could hear. Then she barked, “Topaz! Help me dig a pit.” She jabbed a paw at the Gorochu. “Skorch, I want you on first watch tonight.”

Grunting an affirmation, Topaz raced to her side and started scooping out pawfuls of dirt, creating a neat little mound. A moment later, Susana joined in, deepening the hole while he widened, until they’d formed a hole about twice as deep as Nip was tall, just wide enough for himself and Haru to lie down inside.

Topaz dusted off his paws, then scurried over to nudge Haru back to her paws. Then he gave Nip a rough shove, nearly knocking him over as he drove the two of them to the edge of the pit.

Nip hated this. What if they buried him alive? Would he be able to fight back? But he hopped in on his own, keen not to fall and injure himself further. Heartbeats later, however, a heavy weight thumped on top of him, driving the breath from his lungs. He gasped for air, panicking as he tried to struggle free, toe-claws failing to find purchase in the loamy soil.

After a moment, the dazed Haru finally managed to drag herself to the side, freeing him. She mumbled something under her breath that he didn’t quite catch.

Nip struggled to sit up with bound arms. Before he could do anything else, he heard a rustling, then the light above dimmed. Glancing up, he saw a tangle of branches blocking off the exit, their leaves illuminated by firelight.

From above, Topaz’s voice drifted. “Don’t waste our jerky on him. Our supplies are too limited to bother. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to keep him alive for that long, right?”

Susana’s voice drifted from further off, and Nip was only able to catch snippets. Words like trust, and soon.

They’re talking about me, Nip thought. Resigned and exhausted, he slumped against one of the walls. A heartbeat later, the branches shifted. Something hard bonked him on the head, then rolled to a stop in front of him. An apple. He was half-convinced they were hitting him on purpose.

Nip sighed, using his foot to drag the apple closer before leaning forward to grab the apple’s stem in his teeth. If he had to eat fruit to have energy for tomorrow, he’d do it.

He could make out the shape of Haru — a paler blotch against the dark dirt — tearing into her fruit. A flash of her teeth in the moonlight gave him an idea.

“Haru,” he whispered, “could you unbind my arms? Either by cutting the rope with your teeth, or tugging the knot loose?”

The bidoof looked up, a pair of beady eyes glistening at him in the darkness. “Why?”

Because it would make things easier? Because my arms hurt from being stuck like this for so long? Because my wrists feel raw with pain? He answered, “So I don’t have to struggle to eat my food. …You… you can put them back when we’re done if you just pull them free. Best not to let them get any ideas that we’re working together.”

Something flashed in Haru’s expression. “Don’t talk about that,” she hissed. “There may be prying ears. Or minds.”

“Prying…” His thoughts flashed to the abnormal girafarig — Susana hadn’t bothered putting their disguises back up after leaving the old shrine — and realization hit him like a geopebble. As a pokemon with dark elemental affinity, his mind was protected from most psychics, impenetrable. But Haru’s wasn’t.

“Fine, fine,” he said, forcing his fur to lie flat. They may not be able to read his mind, but they’d be able to smell his fear. “But can you at least get my bindings so I can eat?”

Haru hesitated a moment longer, then took a deep breath and murmured, “Okay. I’ll loosen it, but just temporarily. If I undo it entirely, they’ll know something’s up.”

Nip shifted so that he was on his knees with his back to Haru, allowing her better access to his arms. Her grabby little paws and teeth tugged at the knots, pulling his arms this way and that. Fur brushed up against his, and he felt her cold nose touch a particularly tender spot. Then the ropes slackened, and he was able to pull his arms free.

Leaving his bindings in a position where he could easily slip them back on, he turned back to Haru, rolling his shoulders and rubbing at his wrists where the ropes had irritated his skin. “Thank you,” he mumbled, reaching down to spear the apple on one paw.

His gaze flitted to the branches blocking the exit. “If you can handle it, I think it would be helpful to sleep in turns tonight.”

Haru took another bit of her apple, chewing it slowly before she replied. “In case someone out there gets any… ideas?”

“Yes. I don’t trust them to keep their word.”

The bidoof paused, shivering and taking a shuddering breath. “Y…yeah. I think you’re right. I can take first shift if you’d like.”

“I would appreciate it,” Nip admitted. “I’ll try to get some shut-eye as soon as I’m done eating.”

---

“Useless!”

Umbra’s screeching snapped Nip out of his stupor. He climbed to his feet, staring in the direction the raticate had disappeared. His fur pricked with frustration. If Umbra had driven it in the right direction in the first place, he could have ambushed it. Instead, he’d been forced to give chase, tripping over the dense undergrowth. Now it was too far away.

Dusting his fur off, he turned to face Umbra with an agitated expression.

Big mistake.

The mawile swung her second jaw at him, sending him sprawling. She stood over him, eyes narrowed in a dangerous squint.

His heart raced, panicked eyes darting between Umbra’s face and her jaws. Her expression was unreadable, but that was perhaps more terrifying than blatant anger.

“Can you not do anything right?” Umbra said in a dangerously quiet tone. “Now the tribe will go hungry because of your incompetence.”

“Y-you drove it the wrong way,” Nip stuttered, scrambling as he tried to back away and get to his feet. He knew it was dangerous, but he had to push back against this. “I couldn’t keep up!”

“Are you suggesting this is my fault?” The familiar pink flashes of fairy energy sparkled at her fingertips and cascaded to the ground.

“N-not on purpose!” Nip raised his claws to protect his face, just in time to block the brunt of a strike. The spark popped against his arm in blinding flashes and burned, eating away at his will to fight back. With a quiet cry, he curled inward, only to be knocked over again with a burning kick.

“Look at you, you pathetic lump,” Umbra said in a sickly sweet voice. Then it shifted to a growl. “You would not want the tribe to starve, would you? Don’t bother coming home until you’ve got more than twice that raticate’s weight in food.”

He only whined in response.

Footsteps, light over the crunching undergrowth, faded away. Some time passed before Nip finally uncurled, breath hitching. He was alone again.

Or was he?

His ear twitched as a gust of wind rattled the branches high above, bringing with them whispers.

Did you notice Nip limping today?

Umbra says he tripped over a root while hunting. How clumsy can you get?

How did he manage to pass the hunter’s test with slip-ups like that?

He is a curse on our tribe.

The elders never should have taken his egg.

Outsider. Outsider. Outsider.

The trees twisted and contorted, roots slithering through the undergrowth to surround him like the bars of a cell. He scrambled, squeezing between them, only for new, thorny brambles to intertwine and dig into his fur.

A thick fog rolled in as he struggled to keep his breathing under control, breath visible in the cold. With it came the eyes. Watching him. Staring. Glaring. Judging.

Nip pressed himself against the thorny roots, eyes wild and frost billowing out of the sides of his mouth.

“Stop!” He pleaded. “Go away!”

The fog closed in, roots tearing through the ground around him. The whispers persisted.

Nip.

Nip.

“Nip!”

---

Something was shaking him. Nip startled awake, fur bristling, to near-total darkness. A thin sliver of moonlight dappled his prison through the branches, revealing the shape of a familiar bidoof sitting over him. Her eyes flashed in the dim light.

“Haru…?” Nip’s tone came out groggy as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. “What…?”

“You were dreaming,” Haru answered quietly. “You were thrashing and mewling in your sleep.”

Nip’s fur burned hot with embarrassment. “Oh. Sorry,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry about it. Just a nightmare about…” Did he dare say it? What point was there in hiding things now? “About my tribe.”

Haru sat back. “About… what happened when you left? Or… something else?” Nip suspected she was trying to ask about his attack on the nursery, but with all the tact of a rampaging tauros. He was too tired to care.

“In… a way,” he answered with a sigh. “More the… events leading to it. The fights. The manipulation. The isolation.” Why was he bothering to explain himself now? It wasn’t like it would change Haru’s mind. Her stubborn behavior had made that exceedingly clear. But… if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted to change her mind. Not anymore.

The bidoof’s expression was unreadable. “You… hurt a lot of pokemon,” she mumbled. “Both here and there.”

“I know,” Nip replied, drooping, “but when you’ve spent cycle upon cycle of your life beaten down again and again, wallowing in misery with no way out but…” he trailed off, wincing.

“It warps your perception, Haru. It influences you. Makes you want to lash out.”

“But it doesn’t make it right.” Haru said. “It doesn’t fix what already happened.”

“No,” Nip conceded. “It doesn’t. You have to live with the consequences. But that’s just it. Live. When you die, only Yveltal is left to judge you. It… that prospect is terrifying. Especially after… what we saw here in the village.” He didn’t say Celebi’s name, but he thought of the scatterbrained god all the same. “That would be the easy route, to embrace death without fighting anymore.”

It was a coward’s way of thinking. His tribe taught him to fight for his life but to face death with dignity. But what dignity was there in laying over and dying because others thought you should?

Haru was silent for a long time. Nip felt his stomach flip as he settled down again, closing his eyes. Why wasn’t she saying anything?

“I… think I can understand that.”

Nip peeked an eye open. The bidoof was tracing a pattern in the dirt, refusing to look at him. “When I was pretty young, before Toshi was even born, there was a horrible drought. Crops failed. We had to travel to other towns to get enough food. It came at the worst possible time, when we were trying to remain an independent settlement under mounting pressure. I don’t remember that part, but I remember the hunger.

“Both of Muse’s parents, Shimmer’s mom, and my grandfather made a journey up here, beyond the shrine and up towards the peak, in hopes of finding Regigigas. In hopes that, perhaps, he could fix things.” She laughed bitterly. “Only my grandfather made it back down, and he succumbed to his injuries within a day of his return, nothing to show for their trouble. To make matters worse, the drought broke within a moon. Times were still hard, but not for much longer. All that suffering… all for nothing.”

Silence. Nip broke it moments later. “Is… this why you hate reliance on gods?”

“It wasn’t the sole cause,” Haru answered, “but it was the start.”

Everything about Haru’s behavior suddenly made sense. Nip considered what to say next, or whether he should say anything at all, but finally took a deep breath.

“I can understand where you’re coming from, as tough as that may be to swallow. I… spent my entire kithood trying to be accepted by my kin, all the other pokemon of my tribe. I was born in the tribe, but my egg had been stolen from somewhere else. I… don’t know where. No one would tell me.

“I was viewed as an outsider. Underestimated because I was small. Aside from Tempest and one or two other ‘mon, I had to struggle every day of my life to be respected as an equal.”

His tone rose as he struggled to keep his volume in check. “And then I prove myself. I prove that I’m strong and capable of hunting and fighting just as well as anyone else. And what do I get? I get paired with a pokemon who hates who I am so much that she’s determined to make my every waking moment miserable. That she’s determined to find any way to get rid of me that doesn’t get her claws too dirty.”

Behind his back, he flexed his re-bound claws. “No one but Tempest ever tried to help.” There were others who were sympathetic, but they never lifted a paw. “And as an outsider himself, he had limited influence. Haru, I struggled with the idea that Yveltal would allow me to continue suffering. What good was a god that ignored the pleas of her followers? But when things reached their breaking point… I realized that Yveltal isn’t that type of goddess. Yveltal would not hold my paw. If I wanted to escape, I had to take matters into my own paws.”

“Despite all that, you still chose to follow her?” Haru asked.

“For me, it provided comfort. Hope. I had to cling to something to survive.” He hesitated before adding, “Even if… recent events have made that difficult.”

He sighed. “Our situations may be different, but their effects were similar. Both left us worse off. Bitter. I… think I understand where your anger comes from now. You’re hurting.”

Haru shifted uneasily but said nothing. “Sorry,” he mumbled, turning to lie back down. “That all probably sounded stupid.”

He closed his eyes, but he was too tense to sleep. His mind still dwelled on images of Umbra, on the burn of fairy energy and the bruises she left behind.

Then, to his surprise, he felt something warm press against him. Twisting his head, he could just see Haru lying back to back with him, face turned where he couldn’t see.

“Don’t think anything of it,” she grumbled, stifling a yawn. “But… Maybe you have a point. Sort of. I… I let my feelings cloud my judgment. I have no one to blame but myself for getting into this situation.

The two lapsed into uneasy silence for several moments, only the sound of their breathing, the crackle of fire, and the distant chatter of nocturnal wildeners providing ambiance.

Finally, Haru found her tongue. “Look. I… I still don’t like you. You’re rash. You’ve hurt a lot of pokemon. And you’ve tried to use your suffering to justify your actions. But if we have any hope of survival, we have to work together.”

It was probably the closest thing he was going to get to an apology. Not that he particularly deserved one, did he? “Thank you.” He paused. “Do you want to try sleeping for a bit? I don’t think I’ll be able to for a while.”

The bidoof shifted beside him, yawning. “Sure. Just wake me up sometime before dawn, okay?”

“Of course.” Then Nip went silent. Soon enough, he heard quiet snores from Haru.

Tilting his head, he stared at the flecks of light above their makeshift prison. He closed his eyes, mentally tracing over the spots where he used to dye his fur. He’d stopped bothering when he went on the run. It was too identifying. And before long it had faded. A connection to his tribe and his god, severed.

Yveltal, he prayed. If you have any kindness to spare in your heart, please let us get out alive.

---

The air was thick with exhaustion, worry, and fear, the strength of emotions threatening to overwhelm Shimmer. She focused on blocking out as much as she could.

The sun had set not long ago, forcing them to travel with only an intact luminous orb and a torch for light, and Muse’s nose to guide. Earlier, as the sun was setting, they’d found signs of a struggle, droplets of blood decorating the grass. Muse had picked up Haru’s scent, alongside Nip’s, Umbra’s, and unfamiliar scents she couldn’t place. Anu suspected it was the explorers.

As they’d followed the scent trail up the road, Anu realized they were headed straight for the old shrine. They’d picked up their pace. Now, the shrine entrance loomed ahead, the entrance a dark void in an already dark night.

“They must have lingered here for a while,” Muse reported, sniffing at the grass. “I can smell both Nip and Haru here, and it’s strong. Haru’s scent leads to the cave, while Nip’s leads…” She took a few steps forward before raising her head and tasting the air. “It seems to lead directly up the trail.” She ran several more body lengths forward. “Haru’s scent, and most of the others, rejoin here and continue up the path too.”

Whisper sighed. “Then we know she was still okay at this point.” Shimmer didn’t read her thoughts, but the spike of worry suggested she wasn’t completely confident about that.

The hawlucha tilted her head to stare at the crescent moon and stars. “We’ll stop here for the night, and start again at the crack of dawn.”

“What?” Toshi squeaked. “But Haru’s still out there! We can’t stop now. What if she’s hurt?”

“I know you’re worried,” Anu began gently as he approached the shrine entrance. His luminous orb did little to dispel the darkness. “But the road ahead is perilous. You’ve never been there, but there’s a forest not too far beyond here that we’d have to cut through. There are territorial wildeners there. And the path becomes untamed and perilous not far beyond that.” The conviction with which he spoke was unusual. “We can’t risk stumbling about in the dark. This is the safest place we could ask for.”

“Anu is right,” Whisper agreed, stooping down to be eye-level with Toshi. “He knows this trail better than any living pokemon in the village.” Then she stood, following her mate into the darkness.

Reluctantly, Toshi followed, head drooping. Even with her mental blocks up, the waves of anxiety rolling off of him nearly overwhelmed Shimmer. It was kind of charming, in a messed up way, knowing that he cared so much about Haru’s safety.

She was worried too, of course. But it didn’t do anyone any good to worry like that. Maybe she could cheer him up!

Practically gliding across the dilapidated path, Shimmer caught up with the bidoof. “Aw, cheer up,” she said in a sing-song voice. “We’ll catch up tomorrow, I’m sure. Then we can all go home and pretend this never happened and you and I can talk about our future plans together and…” Shimmer trailed off. The more she spoke, the more the anxiety waves spiked. With them came other emotions. Negative emotions.

Toshi came to an abrupt stop, spinning to face her. “Shims, I’m not in the mood to humor you.”

Shimmer faltered, blinking twice. “But I—”

“My sister is in serious danger, and you’re making it about yourself!” His voice turned shrill. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I do! I was just—” But Shimmer didn’t get a chance to finish her thought. Toshi whirled back around, racing into the cave.

Shimmer started to give chase, but a paw on her shoulder held her back. She looked up to see Anu staring down at her, eyes gentle. “Give him some space,” he began, walking around and then stooping so that he was eye-level with Shimmer. “He’s stressed right now, and needs time to himself.”

“I was just trying to cheer him up,” Shimmer protested sullenly.

Anu was quiet for a moment. He bit his lip, struggling to start speaking.

“Your heart is in the right place,” he began slowly. “But have you considered that you can be… overbearing sometimes, making him feel like he has to go along with you to keep the peace? Toshi has a hard time saying no to people. If he shut you out here, doesn’t that suggest that he must be extremely stressed?”

Shimmer dropped her gaze, stomach tied in knots. She didn’t like where this was going. “I guess, but—”

Anu cut her off. “No buts. Shimmer, you are an incredibly smart and powerful young woman, but you need to learn to take no for an answer. There are a lot of bad things going on right now. Haru is likely in danger. Tempest is severely injured, and both Nip and Umbra are missing. One of our guards might be involved in this mess, too. Who knows how deep this buneary hole goes.”

Pawsteps sounded behind Shimmer, then she felt a puff of hot breath on her back. She turned her head to see Muse, as unreadable as always.

“Musey?” Shimmer asked hesitantly. “What do you think?”

Unease briefly flitted across the absol’s face before she took a deep breath, relaxed, and leaned down to bump her forehead against Shimmer’s. “I… think Anu’s words are wise. Give Toshi some time. When we get back, let him have an honest conversation with you.”

Shimmer didn’t like that answer. What if… What if Toshi was really upset and never wanted to see her again? What if she messed up so spectacularly that she couldn’t fix things? What if…

What if he didn’t actually like her?

Muse nudged her, nuzzling Shimmer’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what happens, I will be here for you. Right now, let’s just focus on finding Haru.”

Shimmer took a deep breath. Right. Haru. She was what was most important right now. “Okay. Let’s just get some rest.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Muse offered. “I’ll wake Whisper or Toshi in a while.”

Shimmer frowned. “No,” she said, putting a hand on the Absol’s back. “Let me. You’re the best tracker. We need you at your best tomorrow.”

“But…” Muse looked between Shimmer and Anu before dipping her head. “Very well. I will speak with you in the morning.” With that, she headed into the cave, leaving Shimmer alone with Anu.

The lucario gave her a pat on the head, then turned toward the cave as well.

Shimmer headed to the entrance a moment later, sitting so that she faced the moonlight flooding inside. Alone her thoughts raced.

Vale’s lie bothered her. She wasn’t surprised by Umbra’s involvement; she and Muse had suspected foul play from the mawile for some time. But why was Vale covering for her? Did her father know about this? What about Jaques and Lotte? They couldn’t. They would have done something to stop it, right?

And then, more personally, there was Toshi. She knew Anu had a point, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe… just maybe… his reaction was something that had been a long time coming. She knew he was sometimes uncomfortable around her, but she’d convinced herself it was something he’d get used to.

Sighing, she pulled her knees to her chest and stared at the stars above.

Oh, Regigigas. Why is this happening?