Chapter 1 - Dream
NebulaDreams
Ace Trainer
- Partners
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Well, hello there! Turns out I’m not completely done with fanfic (just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in). I ran out of inspiration for original stuff so I ended up coming back to the other Jung WIP I was working on alongside Teamwork Makes the Dream Work. I think I started work on it all the way back in April last year, then kept picking it back up in bursts.
In any case, this is probably the longest Jung project I’ve worked on and also my most ambitious one at a whopping 6 chapters (30k words altogether) and with a lot of chapter art to illustrate it. I will be posting these chapters every 4-5 days, and everything has been written in advance, so I’m confident that it will stick to a consistent schedule.
About Dreamdiver: Dreamdiver is a collection of episodic stories that each follow the adventures of Jung: a Hypno therapist who reads the dreams of distressed Pokemon in order to help treat them, each story following a different patient or problem. While this is an ongoing series, you don't need to read the previous stories to enjoy this one as they're self-contained, though it also enhances your reading experience if you have caught up with everything. The links to these stories are down below:
Summary: Jung the Hypno therapist starts suffering from panic-inducing nightmares that interfere with his work. There have also been cases of Pokemon being kidnapped near his city, and people accuse Hypno of being behind it. Determined to clear his own name and put a stop to his night terrors, Jung embarks on a journey to reconnect with his own kind and find the truth.
Content note: Although it still sits at a T rating, this fic is heavier than my other Jung stories. The nightmarish imagery from Dreamless is back, but this fic also focuses on themes of discrimination, both of which can get quite heavy at times, so be forewarned.
Chapter 1: Dream
Tar-like sand enveloped Jung. It covered his feet, his legs, his chest, his neck, everything save for his face. He barely breathed with the grains blanketing him like a steel duvet. It was barely enough to see the world ahead of him.
The sun bled into the sky. The sky was the colour of decayed oranges. There was nothing but tar ahead. Brown in a million different shades. A cold, dead wind blew dust everywhere, invading Jung’s dehydrated eyes and mouth. Not enough to bury him. Never enough to bury him. Just enough to make him suffer slowly, and for him to digest every particle of sand that life threw at him.
Wind howled. Roared. Screamed. Sang. The sand absorbed all the sound into tiny pockets, making the tone sound as dull as a rusted pendulum. Pendulum. Chimes. Clocks. Bong. Bong. Bong.
Nothing. The wind cut short. The dust settled. The sun’s wound dried, then decayed, oozing black. Black. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. It loomed over Jung, taunting him. His only friend, the sun, a shell of its former self, like a hollowed walnut. Now he was alone. Alone. Always alone. Trapped, but never sinking. Living, yet suffocating all the same. Everything stayed still. He was the only living thing that moved. Or maybe, everything else moved along with him while he remained stationary. Like time. Clocks. Chimes. Pendulum. Pendulum. Pendulum.
Hypno.
“Hypno. Hypno… Hypno!”
He lost his ability to speak. All he’d been reduced to were the ramblings of a skipping record or an infant. No words, only names. All Jung had was a name. Not even a name. His species. The only thing that mattered. The only thing that made him matter to people.
“Hypno! Hypthhh! Fhhhh. Ghhhhhhhahhghghghghghg–”
Sand climbed down his throat and filled his maw.
–
Jung’s heart thundered in his chest. The sheets suffocated him, he couldn’t breathe, it was so dark, everything was disappearing, help, help, help–
No, that wasn’t it. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Oh god, his poor heart. Was this cardiac arrest? No, he just woke up. He remembered sand. Suffocating. Feeling completely and utterly alone and helpless.
Jung had another nightmare. Great.
This had been happening for the past few days. It had affected his performance to some extent – the sleep debt took its toll on his ability to dream read, but he still functioned and carried out his duties. This, however, was getting old. Jung didn’t even remember his nightmares in broad strokes, just that it felt petrifying and he hyperventilated after he woke up. But whatever he experienced, Jung didn’t want it to happen again. He already had a tough week since that Eevee had a breakdown and got aggressive with the other inpatients, though that wasn’t necessarily their fault. They had been through hell and back in the past.
Jung held onto his Plusle for comfort, though it did very little. Ultimately, it was just some stuffed toy he got from the local Make a Mon shop. Still, cuddling it relaxed his heart. Eventually, it slowed to a steady pulse, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
What would he do next? Jung wanted to go back to sleep, and he could’ve hypnotised himself into slumber, but that still wouldn’t remove the nightmares since he must’ve been troubled by something deeper. If that was a risk, then he was better off staying awake. Then what would he do? Twiddle his thumbs or cuddle his plushies all night?
He got out of bed to see what was on the news. First, on worldly affairs, Galar just launched their new Pokejobs programme. Good for them. There was a local article from the Daily AniStar, featuring some fluff piece about a Gogoat who won a gold trophy in a race, plus a champagne hamper for his trainer. He wondered if the Gogoat got any compensation for it.
Then, something else caught his eye, with a picture of a Hypno in the woods, no less. The headline read: ‘Police send out search party for missing Pokemon’.
Jung dove into his desk and chomped on a couple of chocolate bonbons. This wasn’t going to be pleasant.
‘Multiple Pokemon have been reported as missing from numerous trainers, including the famed battler Thierry Matthias. No concrete details have surfaced, though Hypno were found wandering Route 18, and as a precaution, police have sent out patrol Pokemon in order to investigate.’
There was a lot more to the article, but Jung couldn’t focus on that as he ate the whole bag of bonbons in one sitting. Oh, crumbs, this was a palaver and a half.
First, there was the fact that Pokemon went missing. That could’ve been anyone, including his patients or even himself. Second, Hypno were rumoured to be involved, and whether or not they actually were, it didn’t bode well for either party. Third, the news already framed the Hypno being behind it even if they didn’t confirm it as such. If someone who didn’t know any better read that, that would give them another reason to go against any Hypno they saw.
Oh, crumbs, crusts and…
“Crap.” That was all Jung could say.
He had purposely avoided all of this discourse about Hypno until now. There was no point in reopening wounds about how his kind was perceived. But that nagging voice at the back of his mind needed to know. When he searched ‘Hypno Pokemon’ into Rootom, he found his own Pokedex entry:
‘It carries a pendulum-like device. There once was an incident in which it took away a child it hypnotised.’
It. What an ugly word. Jung wasn’t an it. Hypno weren’t ‘it’. They were just Hypno.
The rest didn’t inspire much hope, even with a plethora of articles and web pages to browse through. One popular site for trainer resources had one blog titled: ‘Can You Train a Hypno?’, which basically advised trainers to avoid Hypno at all costs even though it wasn’t illegal to capture and train one. They were seldom seen in actual league battles according to the page. There were also numerous mentions about Hypno horror stories in the Spookyghetti genre, which involved fictional accounts of Hypno kidnapping children or hypnotising people for certain... purposes. The less he knew about those purposes, the better.
Then there was that article about the Dreamdivers–
No, not now. Jung didn’t want to think about that now – he was doomscrolling at this point.
Either way, there wasn’t a lot of official coverage about Hypno as they mostly kept to themselves, and humans mostly kept away from them. It was like looking into a black box. But he also found an article that featured Drowzee and Komala hanging out with each other on a tree, documenting how some Alolan Drowzee kept Komala company in the wild. That was something to cling on to at least, like a cookie in a box of razor blade apples. Mmm, cookies.
Jung took his mind off of that report for now as he surfed through the web and played some browser games, including one that involved clicking cookies for hours on end, while eating from a pack of cookies in his stash. Before he knew it, light streamed in from the blinds of his window.
Did he seriously just spend hours pushing on a virtual collection of pixels to see numbers go up? And he also went through two packs of those choco chip confections. Jung massaged the lumps on his waistline… this was troublesome indeed. More hours at the gym today. But he had to work. There was another meeting soon. And he had to shower, and groom his crumb-crusted fur, and… oh, drat, he couldn’t remember.
Jung rubbed sleep from his eyes as he clicked on that imaginary biscuit, occupying himself until it was time to go. He didn’t even get changed into his uniform.
His movements through the hall were sluggish, so the hallway that only took him a minute to navigate to the briefing room felt like one of those five-and-a-half-minute hallways he encountered in his dreams. His three coworkers stared as he entered the room and gave a half-hearted reply.
“Are you okay, Jung?” Amelie, his boss, asked. “You’re five minutes late.”
“I am?” That jolted him awake like the shock from a splash of ice water. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I lost track of the time!”
“Just sit down,” she curtly said.
This was bad. He was never late. Oh well, he’d make up for it by hanging onto Amelie’s words-- wait, no. If her speech was a precipice, then Jung had long since slipped off. His head bobbed up and down with the rising and falling cadence of her voice. He took a sip of coffee to awaken himself, but that didn’t cure his ailment. His eyes felt heavy, getting heavier, until finally, they shut and his head hit the table.
The noise startled everyone, Jung included. But pain overtook shock as he nursed his crooked nose. Definitely dislocated. Why did Arceus have to give him such a huge snout?
“Ow…” he groaned.
“Jung.” Amelie pointed her marker at him. “What are you doing?”
“Ah…” It suddenly dawned on him. “I just… fell. Fell asleep.”
He smacked his forehead. What a stupid Hypno.
“I couldn’t sleep, I had those night terrors again. It’s no excuse, I know, but–” he stopped to yawn–”I’ve never felt this tired before, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, Jung.” She put the pen down. “Look, you’re in no condition to work at the moment. Have a break for the weekend and get some rest if you can.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He straightened his undone collar. “I can’t not work, especially with everything going on, I need to make myself useful or else–”
“No one else here takes their job as seriously as you do.” She looked to the two other therapists, and they nodded along with her. “Of course, it’s serious work, and it’s challenging as well. But you can’t work running on fumes when it’s such a cerebral process.”
“What about that Eevee?”
“We can handle them.” Amelie took a deep breath. “Just give yourself some time to relax and sort this out.”
So they took Jung off his schedule. Dammit, what a failure. There was no point in arguing, however, and deep in his heart, he knew she was right. But what would he do with the rest of today? How would he get some rest? Maybe he could’ve had a herbal solution, or that Roserade’s aromatherapy, anything would’ve helped.
If it meant going to her shop, Jung would even buy some of Liliane’s wares. Besides, a part of him wanted to check up on Tupelo’s progress.
Jung couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. He only grabbed his bag, then ventured into town, retracing his steps back to her place with the nearby store. He tried to focus on the path ahead, not the people staring at him or occasionally whispering in hushed tones. After the news of that kidnapping, he imagined what they were all thinking, especially with the police being very active here.
The one saving grace was that he knew someone on the patrol force: Jet. He took a detour to the ice cream vendor to see if he was on break, but it was still morning. Right, of course. Jung already took too much time diverting from his path. He noticed more people staring. More humans questioning. He passed by a group of teens and–
One poked their leg in front of Jung’s feet, tripping him up, though he didn’t fall down.
“Go back to Lavender Town, creep!”
Fortunately, they just laughed it off and went on their way. Jung continued his journey, as usual, forcing himself to smile. He couldn’t let anyone see that it got to him.
The various strong scents of herbs, spices and berries greeted Jung’s lopsided nose as he entered. There were many leaves, nuts, vitamins and other health foods on display, and the woman, Liliane, was in the middle of the shop floor, stocking shelves from a trolley. As soon as she heard the bell, she turned and smiled, though it didn’t entirely reach her eyes.
“Hello, Liliane,” Jung said, straightening his posture.
“Oh, hey Jung.” She glanced at the floor while holding a bag of cashews. “Um, how can I help you today?”
Jung rubbed his head. “I’ve been having these terrible dreams lately. I thought about possible solutions, and I think one of your remedies would help.”
Liliane paused for a moment, either thinking about what to recommend or mulling over Jung’s presence. She probably still hated him for what went down with Tupelo. Finally, after a few uncomfortable seconds, she put the bag of nuts away.
“I recommend chamomile tea -- the Galarish blend is the best, though I’d start with the teabags just to test the dosage.”
“Would these get rid of nightmares or does it only help you to relax before bedtime?”
“Depends on how your body reacts to it. I don’t wanna force you into it if you’re not sure, though.”
“Well, I might as well get this.” Jung grabbed the teabags. He also found a box of pills on one of the shelves. Jung inspected the label, peering through his glasses. Somnifera. They were sleeping tablets, manufactured using the spores of various Grass Pokemon.
“Oh,” Liliane started, “and those would definitely work, but the dosage is a lot stronger. I’m not sure I’d recommend it since…”
Jung peered at the small print, which said ‘please consult your vet before giving to Pokemon’. What a load of steaming Houndour… manure. What was Jung supposed to do, go for a consultation himself? Would they give him a cone? Then again, he went to a groomer to get his coat trimmed, so it wasn’t a huge stretch.
“I might as well get these too. They might not work well for me, but I’m just desperate at this point.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be liable in case you get hurt.”
“Trust me, I’m capable of making my own decisions.” He said it in a much sharper tone than he intended. Damn his lack of sleep. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so cranky.”
“Well, alright, I guess if you’re sure.”
Liliane went behind the counter to serve him. She scanned the items, recited the price, accepted Jung’s money then gave him his change and his purchases in a bag.
“Thank you, Liliane. I hope you’re doing well these days.” He turned to the door. “Take care.”
“Wait,” she called, reaching out from behind the counter. She maintained eye contact with him that time. “Um, I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry about the way I treated you the other week. I thought about it after Tupelo’s session and I honestly just felt really crappy afterwards.”
“It’s alright. I know it takes some getting used to, talking to a Hypno like it’s normal.”
“It shouldn’t be that way, though.” Liliane looked at Jung with lowered eyes. “I guess I had it in my head for so long that Hypno were bad news with all the stories I heard that I couldn’t shake it off. Like a gut reaction, you know?”
“I know.” He sighed. “I appreciate the thought, and I hope we can move on from here.”
“I do too.” She smiled, more genuinely this time. “If you’re curious, Tupelo’s doing better. I took your advice and–” she clicked her tongue– “okay, I only took part of your advice. I got him a new friend, one that can keep him company while I’m out of the house.”
“Oh, which Pokemon?”
“A Pidgeotto, another rescue from his old reserve. He’s pretty intelligent and docile, and he can sit atop that tree, so he’s a good companion for Tupelo.”
“Ah, good to hear.” He smiled back. “Let’s hope that his condition improves from here on out. Though if he doesn’t, please consider my other recommendation.”
“Yeah, of course.” Liliane slunk to the counter, resting her elbows on the surface. “It’s scary stuff. I heard this thing about traffickers, and if it’s anything like what Tupelo experienced, I can’t imagine what they’re putting other poor Pokemon through.”
Right, that. He offered a sympathetic look.
“I expect the police will do all they can to find out the cause of it.” Of course, it meant a few Hypno were caught in the crossfire, but there was nothing he could do about that.
“Right. Well, I hope you get some sleep.”
“Yes, thank you, and I hope the rest of your day goes well.” Jung waved before he left the shop for good, bag in hand.
Jung went on his merry way, skipping as he walked. He was happy that his efforts paid off and didn’t fall on deaf ears. As he walked through town, he also got a box of cupcakes from his favourite bakery as a pick-me-up. Now all he had to do was go back to the clinic, safe and sound, get to bed, put on some music, and relax to a nice hot cup of–
Bonk.
He fell to the ground. His head burned. He didn’t entirely know what happened at that moment, but once the pain cleared, he got up and saw the empty Pokeball which lay on the paved road. Did… someone throw that at him? And his cupcakes, oh no! All splattered on the cobblestones, baking in the sun.
Jung saw a pair of booted feet which belonged to a young trainer, who kept on guard with his Delphox while bystanders watched. The boy stood in shock, staring at the metal sphere.
“Oh, shoot,” he said. “It’s already got a trainer.”
It? Did he just call Jung an it? All this time carving out a name for himself, as an individual, only to get reduced to an it. An object. Inhuman.
That was it, indeed.
Jung stood and grabbed the Pokeball.
“You, boy!” he yelled in human tongue, which really got his attention, as did everyone else. “What on earth were you thinking, throwing it at me?!”
“I--” he sharply turned to his partner, who shrugged. “I thought you were one of those kidnappin’ Hypno.”
“Does it look like I’m snatching Pokemon away?” He gestured to his longcoat– wait, no, he didn’t put his uniform on. Everybody probably thought he was a wild Pokemon, yet why would he be wearing glasses or carrying a bag around if he wasn’t civil? Arceus, forgive him for what he was about to say. “Pardon my Kalosan, but are you effing kidding me?! I look after Pokemon for a living, the ones who need protecting, and all you do with your life is run around fighting animals and collecting trinkets, you waste of human skin!”
Even though it was directed at someone who totally deserved it, Jung felt bad for that insult, but it was too late to stop once he started.
“And look what you’ve done to my cupcakes!”
“But, I…” The boy was close to tears. “I didn’t mean–”
“I don’t care, you owe me 800 Pokedollars! You know, the thing you use to buy money, which I own and use because of all the work I’ve done! What, you’ve never seen a Pokemon using money before?! You’ve never seen me before, oh look, a dream therapist, he’s actually using his powers for good this time, he isn’t just some rotten Hypno that wouldn’t think twice about biting the heads off of newborn babies, I’ve never been more insulted in my life! I–”
Jung went on for what felt like minutes, so long that his throat burned. He had already caused a scene giving this youngster the dressing down of his lifetime, and as Jung went on his rant, nobody stepped in, not even the Delphox who passed the time by polishing their claws with a wooden nail file.
Then Jet arrived, that Blastoise who was usually always seen with ice cream in his stubby paws. Oh, great, what was he going to do?
“What’s goin’ on here?” he asked as he stepped in.
“I’ll tell you what, this utter troglodyte threw a freaking Pokeball at me, which, by the way, is classed as assault! It’s assault, for god’s sake, human or Pokemon!”
Perhaps it was because some form of help arrived, or because he had ranted and raved to the point of exhaustion, but Jung collapsed to his knees and swiped his glasses off, pawing at his teary eyes.
“Is this all it amounts to, being pelted at in the street?” He laughed, but not out of amusement. “What’s the point anymore? I’m so sick of dealing with this, every day.”
Jung tried to take a few deep breaths, but he was tired. So tired.
“Jung, breathe.” Jet held out his paws. “Breathe with me.”
“No, no, no!” Jung couldn’t be bothered to speak in human anymore. “Don’t tell me to breathe, I’m trying to do exactly that, all I can ever do is keep calm, god forbid I show any sort of emotion or express any sort of disagreement, I have to be the bigger Hypno all the time, I–”
Jet splashed water in his face. The cold rush, as well as the odd sensation of his wet fur clumping up, distracted him for a moment.
“What did you do that for?” Jung asked.
“Well, you needed to calm down. I’ve seen people on my trainer’s TV do that all the time. I hope it helped.”
Jung took a deep breath, running his hand across his drenched face. Well, it stopped his tirade, and people no longer looked on in morbid curiosity, having a mix of reactions from puzzlement to remorse. In the middle of this mess, the kid slunk away and his Delphox followed. Chasing him was pointless. He didn’t care about the money he owed at this point.
“Well, I feel better. Not good, but better.” Jung stood up, handing his glasses to Jet so he could dry his face. “Thanks, Jet.”
“No problem.” Jet presented his lanyard to the crowd and waved in an effort to drive them away. Thankfully, they took that gesture to heart as they dispersed. “Say, shall we talk about this over some ice cream? My treat.”
Jung took those glasses back and forced a smile, shaking Jet’s paw. “Yes, I’d love that.”
Jet spared no expense when he said it was his treat. They went to the gelato truck that Jung frequented, and that was a usual place of solace for him outside of the clinic. The vendor knew Jet quite well as he gave him a gallon of his favourite vanilla bean ice cream. When Jung explained he was Jet’s friend, the human gave him a choice of up to three scoops on the house, even though Jung insisted on paying. So there they sat, on the fountain next to Anistar’s seaside.
The sun glistened on the sea, and the Wingull soared through the air, crying their various battle caws, mating calls and squawks as they swarmed this part of Anistar, preying on unsuspecting patrons for their meals.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jet said. “I know it ain’t always easy for you anyway.”
“It never has been, Jet.” Jung took a big bite out of a strawberry and clotted cream scoop. He was about to speak when his head suddenly ached, and he groaned in pain.
“Brain freeze,” Jet said.
Jung waited for the sensation to die down, then exhaled. “I thought people in Anistar would know better by now.”
“Well, it’s a mighty big place. Lots of trainers comin’ in for gym battles.”
“So it makes it okay for them to treat Pokemon like objects?”
“Nah, it doesn’t.” Jet ran his claws along Jung’s back – that always felt nice against his fur. “You’d be surprised by all the humans I run into that just don’t get it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, I’d just be saddened.” Jung sighed. “Sorry I’m being such a negative Nancy.”
“It’s alright to be upset.”
“I know.” Jung kept forcing a smile, hoping it would trick himself to feel better. “How has your day been so far?”
“Eh, okay.” Jet smacked his vanilla-coated lips. “A little boring, just keepin’ watch since a lot of trainers are comin’ in today.”
“So you’ve got nothing to do with the patrol going on at Route 18?”
“Nope.” Jet ate another big spoonful. “I know the actual police force have started lookin’ while I’m here patrollin’. Lookin’ for grunts, basically.”
“Grunts?” Jung tilted his head. “From what, Team Rocket?” He let out a hollow laugh, then coughed. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“If I had a nickel.” Jet groaned. “But these guys aren’t made up like in those cartoons, they’re legit. Whoever they are, they’ve caused a great deal of trouble. Drugs, mainly.”
“So I’ve heard, not that I’ve known anyone having that problem.”
“Though, it’s when Pokemon like us start going missing that the real trouble starts. But that’s usually a job for the Lucario and such to chase after – mind readers, y’know.”
“I can imagine.”
Jet grit his teeth and dunked his head into the whole tub, slurping up its remains until he had more of it on his face than he did in his body. He shot a tiny splash of water from his back cannon into his hand.
“I still wonder how your water powers work.”
“Beats me, all I know is that this ice cream fills it back up. Anyway, this kidnapping business’ bad stuff. All of it.” He washed his face with the remaining water. “And unlike that show, these thugs aren’t just from one group of bad apples, they’re from trees that keep growin’ bad apples that keep growin’ into more trees, if that makes sense.”
“Yes.” Jung mixed it up by combining the strawberry with the coffee ice cream, which was delicious. “And now people are thinking that I’m responsible, or Hypno are responsible for what happened, just because some of them happen to live near where it happened.”
Jet crossed his blubbery arms. “They don’t think you guys are behind it, they’re just not rulin’ it out.”
“That’s absurd!” Jung crammed another scoop in his maw to pacify himself. “When was the last time a Hypno did something criminal in your line of work?”
“Well, I haven’t had to deal with Hypno, and the one Hypno I know, I trust with my life.”
Jung tried not to blush at that, burying his surprise and annoyance with yet another mouthful. “Okay, but you’ve heard the stories, right? What about outside of your area? Does your trainer watch the news?”
“Sometimes. But a case like that hasn’t happened with Hypno for a while.”
“Exactly!” Jung got to his scoop of lemon sorbet, about to take another bite when he saw that scoop looked suspiciously Hypno coloured. He couldn’t go anywhere without something reminding him of Hypno outside of living in his own skin. “You know what, I’m going to prove it and go out there.”
“To Route 18?”
“Yes. I want to know for sure that they’re not behind it.”
“But what if you get caught while you’re out there, if it is a trafficking problem?”
“Yes, that’s a good point, I suppose.” He chomped on the crispy wafer cone. “I’ll have to be on my guard. I don’t like using my powers, but if it’s in self defense, then by all means, I’ll do it. I just have to get to the bottom of this, I don’t think I can sleep knowing I’m not safe in my own city. Literally, I can’t sleep.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew myself, but maybe those Hypno would help me find the cause of it, if I can find them.”
“It’s a long shot.”
“Absolutely. But I want... no, I need to do this.” Jung bit the last of his ice cream and stood up. “Besides, it will be nice to go for a bit of a walk. Clear my head. Get out of the city. I don’t do that often enough.”
“Well, you’re always free to walk along the beach with me again if you ever want to ask.”
“Thanks, Jet, I appreciate the offer.” He smiled. “Don’t you have to get back to patrolling soon?”
“Yeah, I do.” He returned the tub to the vendor. “I wish I could come with you but, you know, it’s not my place.”
“Of course.”
Before they left, Jet gave Jung one of his ‘big ol’ hugs’. Jet was substantially stronger than Jung and could’ve crushed him with his weight, yet he showed a great amount of restraint. Jung always appreciated his cuddles, especially at times like this. He wished it would last longer than this, but alas, they both had plans.
Jet stomped off into the distance, and Jung looked the other way where the sign indicated the distance to Route 18. He didn’t know how far the journey would be or where it would take him, but he had nothing to lose at this point.
In any case, this is probably the longest Jung project I’ve worked on and also my most ambitious one at a whopping 6 chapters (30k words altogether) and with a lot of chapter art to illustrate it. I will be posting these chapters every 4-5 days, and everything has been written in advance, so I’m confident that it will stick to a consistent schedule.
About Dreamdiver: Dreamdiver is a collection of episodic stories that each follow the adventures of Jung: a Hypno therapist who reads the dreams of distressed Pokemon in order to help treat them, each story following a different patient or problem. While this is an ongoing series, you don't need to read the previous stories to enjoy this one as they're self-contained, though it also enhances your reading experience if you have caught up with everything. The links to these stories are down below:
Summary: Jung the Hypno therapist starts suffering from panic-inducing nightmares that interfere with his work. There have also been cases of Pokemon being kidnapped near his city, and people accuse Hypno of being behind it. Determined to clear his own name and put a stop to his night terrors, Jung embarks on a journey to reconnect with his own kind and find the truth.
Content note: Although it still sits at a T rating, this fic is heavier than my other Jung stories. The nightmarish imagery from Dreamless is back, but this fic also focuses on themes of discrimination, both of which can get quite heavy at times, so be forewarned.
Chapter 1: Dream
Tar-like sand enveloped Jung. It covered his feet, his legs, his chest, his neck, everything save for his face. He barely breathed with the grains blanketing him like a steel duvet. It was barely enough to see the world ahead of him.
The sun bled into the sky. The sky was the colour of decayed oranges. There was nothing but tar ahead. Brown in a million different shades. A cold, dead wind blew dust everywhere, invading Jung’s dehydrated eyes and mouth. Not enough to bury him. Never enough to bury him. Just enough to make him suffer slowly, and for him to digest every particle of sand that life threw at him.
Wind howled. Roared. Screamed. Sang. The sand absorbed all the sound into tiny pockets, making the tone sound as dull as a rusted pendulum. Pendulum. Chimes. Clocks. Bong. Bong. Bong.
Nothing. The wind cut short. The dust settled. The sun’s wound dried, then decayed, oozing black. Black. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. It loomed over Jung, taunting him. His only friend, the sun, a shell of its former self, like a hollowed walnut. Now he was alone. Alone. Always alone. Trapped, but never sinking. Living, yet suffocating all the same. Everything stayed still. He was the only living thing that moved. Or maybe, everything else moved along with him while he remained stationary. Like time. Clocks. Chimes. Pendulum. Pendulum. Pendulum.
Hypno.
“Hypno. Hypno… Hypno!”
He lost his ability to speak. All he’d been reduced to were the ramblings of a skipping record or an infant. No words, only names. All Jung had was a name. Not even a name. His species. The only thing that mattered. The only thing that made him matter to people.
“Hypno! Hypthhh! Fhhhh. Ghhhhhhhahhghghghghghg–”
Sand climbed down his throat and filled his maw.
–
Jung’s heart thundered in his chest. The sheets suffocated him, he couldn’t breathe, it was so dark, everything was disappearing, help, help, help–
No, that wasn’t it. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Oh god, his poor heart. Was this cardiac arrest? No, he just woke up. He remembered sand. Suffocating. Feeling completely and utterly alone and helpless.
Jung had another nightmare. Great.
This had been happening for the past few days. It had affected his performance to some extent – the sleep debt took its toll on his ability to dream read, but he still functioned and carried out his duties. This, however, was getting old. Jung didn’t even remember his nightmares in broad strokes, just that it felt petrifying and he hyperventilated after he woke up. But whatever he experienced, Jung didn’t want it to happen again. He already had a tough week since that Eevee had a breakdown and got aggressive with the other inpatients, though that wasn’t necessarily their fault. They had been through hell and back in the past.
Jung held onto his Plusle for comfort, though it did very little. Ultimately, it was just some stuffed toy he got from the local Make a Mon shop. Still, cuddling it relaxed his heart. Eventually, it slowed to a steady pulse, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
What would he do next? Jung wanted to go back to sleep, and he could’ve hypnotised himself into slumber, but that still wouldn’t remove the nightmares since he must’ve been troubled by something deeper. If that was a risk, then he was better off staying awake. Then what would he do? Twiddle his thumbs or cuddle his plushies all night?
He got out of bed to see what was on the news. First, on worldly affairs, Galar just launched their new Pokejobs programme. Good for them. There was a local article from the Daily AniStar, featuring some fluff piece about a Gogoat who won a gold trophy in a race, plus a champagne hamper for his trainer. He wondered if the Gogoat got any compensation for it.
Then, something else caught his eye, with a picture of a Hypno in the woods, no less. The headline read: ‘Police send out search party for missing Pokemon’.
Jung dove into his desk and chomped on a couple of chocolate bonbons. This wasn’t going to be pleasant.
‘Multiple Pokemon have been reported as missing from numerous trainers, including the famed battler Thierry Matthias. No concrete details have surfaced, though Hypno were found wandering Route 18, and as a precaution, police have sent out patrol Pokemon in order to investigate.’
There was a lot more to the article, but Jung couldn’t focus on that as he ate the whole bag of bonbons in one sitting. Oh, crumbs, this was a palaver and a half.
First, there was the fact that Pokemon went missing. That could’ve been anyone, including his patients or even himself. Second, Hypno were rumoured to be involved, and whether or not they actually were, it didn’t bode well for either party. Third, the news already framed the Hypno being behind it even if they didn’t confirm it as such. If someone who didn’t know any better read that, that would give them another reason to go against any Hypno they saw.
Oh, crumbs, crusts and…
“Crap.” That was all Jung could say.
He had purposely avoided all of this discourse about Hypno until now. There was no point in reopening wounds about how his kind was perceived. But that nagging voice at the back of his mind needed to know. When he searched ‘Hypno Pokemon’ into Rootom, he found his own Pokedex entry:
‘It carries a pendulum-like device. There once was an incident in which it took away a child it hypnotised.’
It. What an ugly word. Jung wasn’t an it. Hypno weren’t ‘it’. They were just Hypno.
The rest didn’t inspire much hope, even with a plethora of articles and web pages to browse through. One popular site for trainer resources had one blog titled: ‘Can You Train a Hypno?’, which basically advised trainers to avoid Hypno at all costs even though it wasn’t illegal to capture and train one. They were seldom seen in actual league battles according to the page. There were also numerous mentions about Hypno horror stories in the Spookyghetti genre, which involved fictional accounts of Hypno kidnapping children or hypnotising people for certain... purposes. The less he knew about those purposes, the better.
Then there was that article about the Dreamdivers–
No, not now. Jung didn’t want to think about that now – he was doomscrolling at this point.
Either way, there wasn’t a lot of official coverage about Hypno as they mostly kept to themselves, and humans mostly kept away from them. It was like looking into a black box. But he also found an article that featured Drowzee and Komala hanging out with each other on a tree, documenting how some Alolan Drowzee kept Komala company in the wild. That was something to cling on to at least, like a cookie in a box of razor blade apples. Mmm, cookies.
Jung took his mind off of that report for now as he surfed through the web and played some browser games, including one that involved clicking cookies for hours on end, while eating from a pack of cookies in his stash. Before he knew it, light streamed in from the blinds of his window.
Did he seriously just spend hours pushing on a virtual collection of pixels to see numbers go up? And he also went through two packs of those choco chip confections. Jung massaged the lumps on his waistline… this was troublesome indeed. More hours at the gym today. But he had to work. There was another meeting soon. And he had to shower, and groom his crumb-crusted fur, and… oh, drat, he couldn’t remember.
Jung rubbed sleep from his eyes as he clicked on that imaginary biscuit, occupying himself until it was time to go. He didn’t even get changed into his uniform.
His movements through the hall were sluggish, so the hallway that only took him a minute to navigate to the briefing room felt like one of those five-and-a-half-minute hallways he encountered in his dreams. His three coworkers stared as he entered the room and gave a half-hearted reply.
“Are you okay, Jung?” Amelie, his boss, asked. “You’re five minutes late.”
“I am?” That jolted him awake like the shock from a splash of ice water. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I lost track of the time!”
“Just sit down,” she curtly said.
This was bad. He was never late. Oh well, he’d make up for it by hanging onto Amelie’s words-- wait, no. If her speech was a precipice, then Jung had long since slipped off. His head bobbed up and down with the rising and falling cadence of her voice. He took a sip of coffee to awaken himself, but that didn’t cure his ailment. His eyes felt heavy, getting heavier, until finally, they shut and his head hit the table.
The noise startled everyone, Jung included. But pain overtook shock as he nursed his crooked nose. Definitely dislocated. Why did Arceus have to give him such a huge snout?
“Ow…” he groaned.
“Jung.” Amelie pointed her marker at him. “What are you doing?”
“Ah…” It suddenly dawned on him. “I just… fell. Fell asleep.”
He smacked his forehead. What a stupid Hypno.
“I couldn’t sleep, I had those night terrors again. It’s no excuse, I know, but–” he stopped to yawn–”I’ve never felt this tired before, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, Jung.” She put the pen down. “Look, you’re in no condition to work at the moment. Have a break for the weekend and get some rest if you can.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” He straightened his undone collar. “I can’t not work, especially with everything going on, I need to make myself useful or else–”
“No one else here takes their job as seriously as you do.” She looked to the two other therapists, and they nodded along with her. “Of course, it’s serious work, and it’s challenging as well. But you can’t work running on fumes when it’s such a cerebral process.”
“What about that Eevee?”
“We can handle them.” Amelie took a deep breath. “Just give yourself some time to relax and sort this out.”
So they took Jung off his schedule. Dammit, what a failure. There was no point in arguing, however, and deep in his heart, he knew she was right. But what would he do with the rest of today? How would he get some rest? Maybe he could’ve had a herbal solution, or that Roserade’s aromatherapy, anything would’ve helped.
If it meant going to her shop, Jung would even buy some of Liliane’s wares. Besides, a part of him wanted to check up on Tupelo’s progress.
Jung couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. He only grabbed his bag, then ventured into town, retracing his steps back to her place with the nearby store. He tried to focus on the path ahead, not the people staring at him or occasionally whispering in hushed tones. After the news of that kidnapping, he imagined what they were all thinking, especially with the police being very active here.
The one saving grace was that he knew someone on the patrol force: Jet. He took a detour to the ice cream vendor to see if he was on break, but it was still morning. Right, of course. Jung already took too much time diverting from his path. He noticed more people staring. More humans questioning. He passed by a group of teens and–
One poked their leg in front of Jung’s feet, tripping him up, though he didn’t fall down.
“Go back to Lavender Town, creep!”
Fortunately, they just laughed it off and went on their way. Jung continued his journey, as usual, forcing himself to smile. He couldn’t let anyone see that it got to him.
The various strong scents of herbs, spices and berries greeted Jung’s lopsided nose as he entered. There were many leaves, nuts, vitamins and other health foods on display, and the woman, Liliane, was in the middle of the shop floor, stocking shelves from a trolley. As soon as she heard the bell, she turned and smiled, though it didn’t entirely reach her eyes.
“Hello, Liliane,” Jung said, straightening his posture.
“Oh, hey Jung.” She glanced at the floor while holding a bag of cashews. “Um, how can I help you today?”
Jung rubbed his head. “I’ve been having these terrible dreams lately. I thought about possible solutions, and I think one of your remedies would help.”
Liliane paused for a moment, either thinking about what to recommend or mulling over Jung’s presence. She probably still hated him for what went down with Tupelo. Finally, after a few uncomfortable seconds, she put the bag of nuts away.
“I recommend chamomile tea -- the Galarish blend is the best, though I’d start with the teabags just to test the dosage.”
“Would these get rid of nightmares or does it only help you to relax before bedtime?”
“Depends on how your body reacts to it. I don’t wanna force you into it if you’re not sure, though.”
“Well, I might as well get this.” Jung grabbed the teabags. He also found a box of pills on one of the shelves. Jung inspected the label, peering through his glasses. Somnifera. They were sleeping tablets, manufactured using the spores of various Grass Pokemon.
“Oh,” Liliane started, “and those would definitely work, but the dosage is a lot stronger. I’m not sure I’d recommend it since…”
Jung peered at the small print, which said ‘please consult your vet before giving to Pokemon’. What a load of steaming Houndour… manure. What was Jung supposed to do, go for a consultation himself? Would they give him a cone? Then again, he went to a groomer to get his coat trimmed, so it wasn’t a huge stretch.
“I might as well get these too. They might not work well for me, but I’m just desperate at this point.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be liable in case you get hurt.”
“Trust me, I’m capable of making my own decisions.” He said it in a much sharper tone than he intended. Damn his lack of sleep. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so cranky.”
“Well, alright, I guess if you’re sure.”
Liliane went behind the counter to serve him. She scanned the items, recited the price, accepted Jung’s money then gave him his change and his purchases in a bag.
“Thank you, Liliane. I hope you’re doing well these days.” He turned to the door. “Take care.”
“Wait,” she called, reaching out from behind the counter. She maintained eye contact with him that time. “Um, I just wanted to say, I’m really sorry about the way I treated you the other week. I thought about it after Tupelo’s session and I honestly just felt really crappy afterwards.”
“It’s alright. I know it takes some getting used to, talking to a Hypno like it’s normal.”
“It shouldn’t be that way, though.” Liliane looked at Jung with lowered eyes. “I guess I had it in my head for so long that Hypno were bad news with all the stories I heard that I couldn’t shake it off. Like a gut reaction, you know?”
“I know.” He sighed. “I appreciate the thought, and I hope we can move on from here.”
“I do too.” She smiled, more genuinely this time. “If you’re curious, Tupelo’s doing better. I took your advice and–” she clicked her tongue– “okay, I only took part of your advice. I got him a new friend, one that can keep him company while I’m out of the house.”
“Oh, which Pokemon?”
“A Pidgeotto, another rescue from his old reserve. He’s pretty intelligent and docile, and he can sit atop that tree, so he’s a good companion for Tupelo.”
“Ah, good to hear.” He smiled back. “Let’s hope that his condition improves from here on out. Though if he doesn’t, please consider my other recommendation.”
“Yeah, of course.” Liliane slunk to the counter, resting her elbows on the surface. “It’s scary stuff. I heard this thing about traffickers, and if it’s anything like what Tupelo experienced, I can’t imagine what they’re putting other poor Pokemon through.”
Right, that. He offered a sympathetic look.
“I expect the police will do all they can to find out the cause of it.” Of course, it meant a few Hypno were caught in the crossfire, but there was nothing he could do about that.
“Right. Well, I hope you get some sleep.”
“Yes, thank you, and I hope the rest of your day goes well.” Jung waved before he left the shop for good, bag in hand.
Jung went on his merry way, skipping as he walked. He was happy that his efforts paid off and didn’t fall on deaf ears. As he walked through town, he also got a box of cupcakes from his favourite bakery as a pick-me-up. Now all he had to do was go back to the clinic, safe and sound, get to bed, put on some music, and relax to a nice hot cup of–
Bonk.
He fell to the ground. His head burned. He didn’t entirely know what happened at that moment, but once the pain cleared, he got up and saw the empty Pokeball which lay on the paved road. Did… someone throw that at him? And his cupcakes, oh no! All splattered on the cobblestones, baking in the sun.
Jung saw a pair of booted feet which belonged to a young trainer, who kept on guard with his Delphox while bystanders watched. The boy stood in shock, staring at the metal sphere.
“Oh, shoot,” he said. “It’s already got a trainer.”
It? Did he just call Jung an it? All this time carving out a name for himself, as an individual, only to get reduced to an it. An object. Inhuman.
That was it, indeed.
Jung stood and grabbed the Pokeball.
“You, boy!” he yelled in human tongue, which really got his attention, as did everyone else. “What on earth were you thinking, throwing it at me?!”
“I--” he sharply turned to his partner, who shrugged. “I thought you were one of those kidnappin’ Hypno.”
“Does it look like I’m snatching Pokemon away?” He gestured to his longcoat– wait, no, he didn’t put his uniform on. Everybody probably thought he was a wild Pokemon, yet why would he be wearing glasses or carrying a bag around if he wasn’t civil? Arceus, forgive him for what he was about to say. “Pardon my Kalosan, but are you effing kidding me?! I look after Pokemon for a living, the ones who need protecting, and all you do with your life is run around fighting animals and collecting trinkets, you waste of human skin!”
Even though it was directed at someone who totally deserved it, Jung felt bad for that insult, but it was too late to stop once he started.
“And look what you’ve done to my cupcakes!”
“But, I…” The boy was close to tears. “I didn’t mean–”
“I don’t care, you owe me 800 Pokedollars! You know, the thing you use to buy money, which I own and use because of all the work I’ve done! What, you’ve never seen a Pokemon using money before?! You’ve never seen me before, oh look, a dream therapist, he’s actually using his powers for good this time, he isn’t just some rotten Hypno that wouldn’t think twice about biting the heads off of newborn babies, I’ve never been more insulted in my life! I–”
Jung went on for what felt like minutes, so long that his throat burned. He had already caused a scene giving this youngster the dressing down of his lifetime, and as Jung went on his rant, nobody stepped in, not even the Delphox who passed the time by polishing their claws with a wooden nail file.
Then Jet arrived, that Blastoise who was usually always seen with ice cream in his stubby paws. Oh, great, what was he going to do?
“What’s goin’ on here?” he asked as he stepped in.
“I’ll tell you what, this utter troglodyte threw a freaking Pokeball at me, which, by the way, is classed as assault! It’s assault, for god’s sake, human or Pokemon!”
Perhaps it was because some form of help arrived, or because he had ranted and raved to the point of exhaustion, but Jung collapsed to his knees and swiped his glasses off, pawing at his teary eyes.
“Is this all it amounts to, being pelted at in the street?” He laughed, but not out of amusement. “What’s the point anymore? I’m so sick of dealing with this, every day.”
Jung tried to take a few deep breaths, but he was tired. So tired.
“Jung, breathe.” Jet held out his paws. “Breathe with me.”
“No, no, no!” Jung couldn’t be bothered to speak in human anymore. “Don’t tell me to breathe, I’m trying to do exactly that, all I can ever do is keep calm, god forbid I show any sort of emotion or express any sort of disagreement, I have to be the bigger Hypno all the time, I–”
Jet splashed water in his face. The cold rush, as well as the odd sensation of his wet fur clumping up, distracted him for a moment.
“What did you do that for?” Jung asked.
“Well, you needed to calm down. I’ve seen people on my trainer’s TV do that all the time. I hope it helped.”
Jung took a deep breath, running his hand across his drenched face. Well, it stopped his tirade, and people no longer looked on in morbid curiosity, having a mix of reactions from puzzlement to remorse. In the middle of this mess, the kid slunk away and his Delphox followed. Chasing him was pointless. He didn’t care about the money he owed at this point.
“Well, I feel better. Not good, but better.” Jung stood up, handing his glasses to Jet so he could dry his face. “Thanks, Jet.”
“No problem.” Jet presented his lanyard to the crowd and waved in an effort to drive them away. Thankfully, they took that gesture to heart as they dispersed. “Say, shall we talk about this over some ice cream? My treat.”
Jung took those glasses back and forced a smile, shaking Jet’s paw. “Yes, I’d love that.”
—
Jet spared no expense when he said it was his treat. They went to the gelato truck that Jung frequented, and that was a usual place of solace for him outside of the clinic. The vendor knew Jet quite well as he gave him a gallon of his favourite vanilla bean ice cream. When Jung explained he was Jet’s friend, the human gave him a choice of up to three scoops on the house, even though Jung insisted on paying. So there they sat, on the fountain next to Anistar’s seaside.
The sun glistened on the sea, and the Wingull soared through the air, crying their various battle caws, mating calls and squawks as they swarmed this part of Anistar, preying on unsuspecting patrons for their meals.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Jet said. “I know it ain’t always easy for you anyway.”
“It never has been, Jet.” Jung took a big bite out of a strawberry and clotted cream scoop. He was about to speak when his head suddenly ached, and he groaned in pain.
“Brain freeze,” Jet said.
Jung waited for the sensation to die down, then exhaled. “I thought people in Anistar would know better by now.”
“Well, it’s a mighty big place. Lots of trainers comin’ in for gym battles.”
“So it makes it okay for them to treat Pokemon like objects?”
“Nah, it doesn’t.” Jet ran his claws along Jung’s back – that always felt nice against his fur. “You’d be surprised by all the humans I run into that just don’t get it.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised, I’d just be saddened.” Jung sighed. “Sorry I’m being such a negative Nancy.”
“It’s alright to be upset.”
“I know.” Jung kept forcing a smile, hoping it would trick himself to feel better. “How has your day been so far?”
“Eh, okay.” Jet smacked his vanilla-coated lips. “A little boring, just keepin’ watch since a lot of trainers are comin’ in today.”
“So you’ve got nothing to do with the patrol going on at Route 18?”
“Nope.” Jet ate another big spoonful. “I know the actual police force have started lookin’ while I’m here patrollin’. Lookin’ for grunts, basically.”
“Grunts?” Jung tilted his head. “From what, Team Rocket?” He let out a hollow laugh, then coughed. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”
“If I had a nickel.” Jet groaned. “But these guys aren’t made up like in those cartoons, they’re legit. Whoever they are, they’ve caused a great deal of trouble. Drugs, mainly.”
“So I’ve heard, not that I’ve known anyone having that problem.”
“Though, it’s when Pokemon like us start going missing that the real trouble starts. But that’s usually a job for the Lucario and such to chase after – mind readers, y’know.”
“I can imagine.”
Jet grit his teeth and dunked his head into the whole tub, slurping up its remains until he had more of it on his face than he did in his body. He shot a tiny splash of water from his back cannon into his hand.
“I still wonder how your water powers work.”
“Beats me, all I know is that this ice cream fills it back up. Anyway, this kidnapping business’ bad stuff. All of it.” He washed his face with the remaining water. “And unlike that show, these thugs aren’t just from one group of bad apples, they’re from trees that keep growin’ bad apples that keep growin’ into more trees, if that makes sense.”
“Yes.” Jung mixed it up by combining the strawberry with the coffee ice cream, which was delicious. “And now people are thinking that I’m responsible, or Hypno are responsible for what happened, just because some of them happen to live near where it happened.”
Jet crossed his blubbery arms. “They don’t think you guys are behind it, they’re just not rulin’ it out.”
“That’s absurd!” Jung crammed another scoop in his maw to pacify himself. “When was the last time a Hypno did something criminal in your line of work?”
“Well, I haven’t had to deal with Hypno, and the one Hypno I know, I trust with my life.”
Jung tried not to blush at that, burying his surprise and annoyance with yet another mouthful. “Okay, but you’ve heard the stories, right? What about outside of your area? Does your trainer watch the news?”
“Sometimes. But a case like that hasn’t happened with Hypno for a while.”
“Exactly!” Jung got to his scoop of lemon sorbet, about to take another bite when he saw that scoop looked suspiciously Hypno coloured. He couldn’t go anywhere without something reminding him of Hypno outside of living in his own skin. “You know what, I’m going to prove it and go out there.”
“To Route 18?”
“Yes. I want to know for sure that they’re not behind it.”
“But what if you get caught while you’re out there, if it is a trafficking problem?”
“Yes, that’s a good point, I suppose.” He chomped on the crispy wafer cone. “I’ll have to be on my guard. I don’t like using my powers, but if it’s in self defense, then by all means, I’ll do it. I just have to get to the bottom of this, I don’t think I can sleep knowing I’m not safe in my own city. Literally, I can’t sleep.”
“Why?”
“I wish I knew myself, but maybe those Hypno would help me find the cause of it, if I can find them.”
“It’s a long shot.”
“Absolutely. But I want... no, I need to do this.” Jung bit the last of his ice cream and stood up. “Besides, it will be nice to go for a bit of a walk. Clear my head. Get out of the city. I don’t do that often enough.”
“Well, you’re always free to walk along the beach with me again if you ever want to ask.”
“Thanks, Jet, I appreciate the offer.” He smiled. “Don’t you have to get back to patrolling soon?”
“Yeah, I do.” He returned the tub to the vendor. “I wish I could come with you but, you know, it’s not my place.”
“Of course.”
Before they left, Jet gave Jung one of his ‘big ol’ hugs’. Jet was substantially stronger than Jung and could’ve crushed him with his weight, yet he showed a great amount of restraint. Jung always appreciated his cuddles, especially at times like this. He wished it would last longer than this, but alas, they both had plans.
Jet stomped off into the distance, and Jung looked the other way where the sign indicated the distance to Route 18. He didn’t know how far the journey would be or where it would take him, but he had nothing to lose at this point.
at the 'His Species. The only thing that mattered.'
