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Pokémon Kokiʻo keʻokeʻo [Aeons and Avatars 2023 Contest One-Shot]

Starlight Aurate

Ad Jesum per Mariam | pfp by kintsugi
Location
Route 123
Partners
  1. mightyena
  2. psyduck
Hi everyone! Here is my entry for last year's one-shot contest! It focuses on Tapu Lele and the Akalan Islands. I drew heavy inspiration from Hawaiian language and culture, along with some Chamorro language for the invading islanders. I hope you enjoy!

There is a violent gang-rape scene about halfway into this one-shot. There are also depictions of gore and human violence.


Kokiʻo keʻokeʻo


The flower petals rustled gently as they swayed in the breeze, the wind carrying their perfume through the night air. The floral smell of white and pink hibiscuses filled the atmosphere with a sweet—and slightly tart—aroma. She breathed in, the taste dancing on her tongue, filling her nostrils. The humidity amplified the scent, and the air was thick with flowers. Beneath the crescent moon, trees of hibiscus danced in the gentle wind, exhaling their flowery breath to the black sand beach before it dissipated into the gentle waves.

The breeze scattered particles of sand, pushing them into the sea before the waters shoved them back. In the heavily perfumed air, the black sand churned and twisted, by wind and by water, as if it had a life of its own. Until, at last, the sand solidified into two hand shapes, clinging to the earth as they steadied themselves in the gentle ebb and pull. Flowing outwards, the sand steadily morphed itself into a humanoid form kneeling on the beach.

In the shallows, the sand solidified into another anthropomorph. Watery strands of hair flowed from its head, and grains of sand fell as it lifted its eyelids in a pale blue gaze. It looked over to its counterpart, which kneeled upright in the sand, a nose and mouth forming, inhaling large gulps of floral-scented air, its hair spilling in pink ribbons down its back.

Further up the shore, close to the jungle, another being rapidly took shape. Crackles of electricity danced about its red mohawk as it hastily put itself together. Lastly, the sand near it, almost within the jungle itself, steadily assembled itself into a large, broad-shouldered man. As it breathed slowly and deeply, vines and shoots of foliage steadily rose to meet it.

The four beings stood to their full heights, stretching out their hands, tossing their heads full of hair, filling their lungs with the tang of marine air and floral aroma—reveling in their first moments of life.



Hibiscus trees framed the pale blue sky with a floral wreath. The flowers were in an array of bright yellows, pale whites, and multiple shades of pink. Her favorites were those that were a silvery white in the morning and darkened to pink in the afternoon. As she lay on her back, the tartness of them danced on her tongue, and she smiled—

“Would you like some poi, Lele?”

“Oh, yes! Thank you, Aouli!”

“Iako helped me make it, and he’s really proud!”

Getting to her feet, Lele strode to a young woman carrying a calabash filled with a sticky purple substance. A Toucannon hopping along next to the woman proudly fluttered his wings. Lele bent down to scoop up a handful of the poi, already licking her lips with delight. She towered over the young woman—over everyone on Akala Island, and it was by choice. Once she found she had control over her form, that she could be as tall or as short as she pleased, she enjoyed the looks of awe people gave as they craned their necks to look up at her. Her form was human, but her immense height, sandy black skin, and vibrant pink hair set her apart as something divine.

“Cah-ah-ah!”

Iako cawed with pride as Lele indulged in the poi. Licking the sticky purple substance from her lips, she stood and stretched—the grove of hibiscus trees made a natural shrine, and anyone seeking a favor from their beloved goddess knew they could find her basking in the flowers. Mauna Haleakala thrust into the pale blue sky above them, its mountainsides covered with lush green rainforest and dotted with silver ribbons of waterfalls.

“Lele, I also came to ask …”

As Lele licked the poi from her fingers, she saw the young woman lift the fronds of her grass skirt to display a deep gash along her thigh, the skin around it already a purplish-blue. Iako lifted his wing to show the feathers underside speckled with blood–Aouli’s as well as his own.

“Iako, Aouli, what did you do to yourselves?”

“It was an accident! A wild Jangmo-o chased me up a path I’d never been on before, and I fell on a root and it dug into me! Iako fought him back, but he got hurt too!” Her lip trembled with embarrassment. “Do you think you can fix it?”

“Of course I can fix it, that’s easy! I just hate seeing you all get hurt.”

Lele traced her fingers over Aouli’s gash. The skin flowed together like ripples of water, and the purple-blue hues faded into a natural bronze. The Akalan woman laughed with relief as the infectious wound was replaced by supple skin. Lele repeated it with Iako’s wounds and achieved the same effect.

“It feels as good as new—like it never happened! Mahalo, Lele!”

Lele smiled warmly.

“Please be careful, Iako and Aouli. Keep this up, and you humans will expect me to heal everyone on these islands!”



The fires roared as people danced, raising their arms and gyrating their hips. The scent of fried fish filled the air, and the stars twinkled down on silver-crested wave tops. Lele stood above the crowd, a floral lei crowning her pink hair, shaking her grass skirt to the beat of the drums.

Early in the evening, as people and Pokemon had gathered about her shrine to give thanks and celebrate, they also came to her with their requests. She saw a multitude of injuries: broken hands, missing fingers, infected cuts and scrapes—all gone with a quick trace of her fingers. Once the injuries were cured, and the crowd gave their mahalo, the festivities began.

“Lele, catch me!”

“Come, keiki!”

Young children with Aipom and Jangmo-o ran and jumped into Lele’s open arms, and the goddess tossed them into the air with alacrity. She laughed as she caught and tossed the little ones as if they weighed no more than bunches of leaves.

Coconuts cracked open and poured out their water; knives sliced mangos and pineapples to pieces; calabashes of sticky sweet poi were passed around; fish sizzled as they were cooked over open flames. Laughter filled the air as the fires blazed high into the night sky, painting the heavens with an orange glow.

As Lele tossed a child in the air, she noticed several people pointing towards the ocean. She turned her pink gaze and saw an unmistakable figure standing in the shallows, the exact same size and shape as a human.

“Oh, it’s my sister!”

Lele put the child back on the ground and strode down the beach, waving at the people behind her.

“Hang on, everyone, I’ll just go see what she wants! No need to stop the party—I’ll be back in a few minutes!”

She strode down the sand, as black as her skin, until her toes touched the gentle waves. She looked curiously at her sister knee-deep in the water.

“I’ll never understand why you prefer to be wet. You should come out of the water sometime—that’s where the party is!” She gestured to the crowd gathered behind her.

“No, thanks.”

Lele rolled her eyes. Fini faced away from Lele, looking at the other islands sprawling around Akala. Her blue hair spilled in waterfalls down her slim back. Lele couldn’t see her sister’s face, but her deadpan tone said everything.

“Fini, you’re no fun. You really should interact with humans someday—they’re really nice! They cook amazing food and have these beautiful dances.”

“Would those people throw parties and build shrines for you if you didn’t heal their wounds on demand?”

“Oh, you know it’s not like that. Besides, I’m happy to help them out! I hate seeing people get so hurt, and if I can make it all better, why shouldn’t they thank me? You could do something to help people too, you know!”

Lele followed Fini’s gaze across the sea, past their brother Koko’s home on Melemele Island, to Poni Island. The faint glow indicated fires on their shores.

“I have other ways of helping them,” Fini said softly.

“Anyway, I didn’t come to argue about our differences—or to party,” she said before Lele could interject, causing her sister’s smile to deflate into a disappointed frown. “I came here to warn you.”

“Warn me? Of what?”

“You can’t see them now, but there are several ships southwest of us. And I don’t think they’ll be peaceful.”

“Ships? Fini, that could be great! You shouldn’t be so quick to assume the worst in them.”

At last, Fini turned her head to meet Lele’s gaze. Her sister’s eyes were unlike her own: narrow, sharp, and pale blue instead of Lele’s wide-eyed pink.

“I saw them myself. Each ship is full of men. Armed. There are few women. I didn’t see any children. And accompanied by hordes of Gorebyss, Basculin, Tirtouga, Huntail–I even saw Carracosta and a Milotic. Those are Pokemon ready to fight.”

“Maybe they’re just looking for a new home!”

“And what? You think these people will be content to share with the people of Alola? These humans have already found the best lands for themselves, have made their own villages, their own rituals—anyone would want to take it all for themselves! War is coming, Lele, and we need to be ready for it.”

“I hate it when you talk like this! I don’t like people getting hurt and fighting. I heal people, I don’t battle!”

“Will you listen for once, and stop arguing? Don’t think you’re safe from conflict just because you don’t want it. Mark my words, Lele, there are people who will see your gift and want to abuse it.”

In spite of herself, Lele’s heart sank.

Abuse?

She couldn’t think of it—it was too unreal!

Lele walked into the shallows so she stood next to Fini. She stood a few feet taller than her sister, who, for some inexplicable reason, would rather be the height of a human woman. The two of them looked to the stars scattered among clouds, traveling like ghostly proa over the sea.

“Have you told our brothers?”

Fini shook her head.

“Not yet. I felt that you would need more time to accept it and prepare. I’m not worried about Koko—he’s always itching for a fight,” she said with disdain. “Bulu… Yes, I should tell him immediately.” She glanced back at the Akalans celebrating on the beach. “Do tell your people, won’t you? I’d rather not wait for those on Poni Island to alert them.”

Lele looked back at the people of Akala Island—her people. Her heart panged as she thought of her peaceful citizens, armed with spears and knives, racing down their black sand beaches as they viciously screamed, their Golisopod and Araquanid fighting alongside them.

“Hey—where are you going?” she called as her sister waded into the ocean.

“To ready my people.”

Fini looked back at Lele. The water was up to her shoulders, her azure hair swirling at the surface of the sea.

“I don’t want war any more than you do, Lele. But I love the humans, too. And if there’s anything I can do to protect them, I will.”



“Lele! We need you to take care of Pono, quick! His leg!”

“Kalama’s arm! Hurry!”

“Nahoa—it isn’t too late for him, is it? You can bring him back!”

Warrior after warrior was brought before Lele, every one marred with horrible injuries. In the distance, she heard the screams of men as they fought, their wails as shell and stone weaponry pierced their flesh, the crackle of fire as they burned through each others’ defenses. Roars and hisses resounded as Gumshoos and Ariados attacked their invaders–their battle cries dying into gurgles as enemy Carracosta dragged them into the sea. Shortly after the battles had begun the previous night, Akalans were bringing their injured warriors to Lele in what seemed to be an endless procession.

She shook the sand from her body—coming off in scale-like clumps—over the injuries: sewing together the muscle in Kamehameha’s arms, clotting the blood and closing the wound stretching across Kapono’s thigh, re-attaching Kalama’s arm where it had been hacked off.

But when two attendants brought her a man with a gaping hole in his chest—Lele could see through it to the ground below—she hesitated. Bile rose in her stomach. All injuries were terrible, but she hadn’t seen one like this.

“Lele, please!” an attendant named Hina begged. Tears streamed down her cheeks, plastering her black hair to her face. “You can bring Nahoa back, I know it!”

Steeling herself, Lele reached out a shaking hand, rubbing sand over Nahoa’s open chest. His internal organs and flesh closed up, the skin flowing over as if made new.

But Nahoa’s eyes remained closed, his body still.

“Lele, please!” Hina shrieked.

“I’m—I’m sorry!”

Lele hugged herself—she couldn’t stop staring at Nahoa’s lifeless face as the attendants bore him away.

But the flow of injured warriors didn’t stop. As she shook scales over them, healing wounds in a trice, Nahoa’s open eyes stared blankly at her. And he wasn’t the only one she failed to revive—several men were brought before her, their bodies unmoving even after she reattached limbs and closed gashes. She bit her lips; her stomach flipped. Before long, the sand was drenched in blood, the fronds of coconut and leaves of pandanus plants painted red. The air hung thick with the iron stench of blood.

At last, Lele sat down—even she was tired. The sounds of fighting had quieted. As the sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky a gradient of blues and purples, the sounds of fighting gave way to the cries of mourning and the crackle of cooking fires.

She hugged her knees to her chest as she watched Akalan women feed warriors—healed from their injuries, but depleted of their strength. Lele still saw their battle wounds flash before her eyes, as clear as if they were still there.

Mahalo, Lele. Can I give you something to eat?”

She snapped her head around and saw Aouli holding a bowl of coconut soup.

“N—no!” she cried in surprise. “I—I mean, no, thank you.”

“You should eat to regain your strength.”

“I don’t need to eat—I need to get away!”

Without another word, she bolted into the jungle, not stopping until she came to the hibiscus grove. She flopped on the earth—damp from dew, not from blood—and deeply inhaled the tangy scent of flowers. As the metallic odor left her nostrils, energy returned to her.

But the sight of open gashes, splintered bones, and pools of blood remained behind her eyes.

Curling into a ball, Lele spent the night in the grove, allowing the floral scent to soothe her.

The next day was just as bad as the previous—if not worse. More men and Pokemon, bruised, bleeding, broken, dying, all healed by a simple touch from Lele. But this time, there were several women and children, too, along with pet Pokemon like Dewpider and Bounsweet, their village having been burned by the invading Magå’haga warriors.

Healing was simple for Lele—she cured hundreds of mortal wounds before feeling any of her energy sapped. But her insides writhed with nausea. The stench of blood and pus, the sight of skin scarred purple-black, the taste of iron polluting the air, put the goddess on the verge of vomiting.

Chief Kimo was there, watching as his warriors, one-by-one, were healed and returned to battle. The chief was a large, imposing figure, with broad-set shoulders and a strong jaw, whose countenance naturally made his people feel protected. Thus far, he appeared unhurt; his spear was on the ground, and his dark eyes looked on with concern as he watched his warriors brought forward, displaying multitudes of injuries. He looked at the pink-haired goddess.

“Lele, can you please heal our shieldsmen?”

At his word, four attendants marched forward, all carrying a platform on their shoulders. As they lowered it to the ground, Lele gasped.

The shields—or what she assumed used to be their shields—lay in smithereens. They might have had no shields at all, for their torsos were wide open, their innards spilling out, still attached to the insides, but lying on piles next to them or on top of their exposed skin.

“Agh!”

“Lele, come back!”

But she couldn’t go back—she couldn’t. She sprinted through the trees, leaping over fallen coconut palms and through sword-edged scrub brush, the horrible image of human guts imprinted on her mind.

Tears streamed from her eyes. Her breath came in ragged gasps until, exhausted, she stopped running and slumped to the ground. Hugging her legs to her chest, she buried her face in her knees and sobbed. The scent of blood lingered on her tongue and the sound of Kimo pleading rang in her ears. Her gut twisted, threatening to expel bile at any second.

Hafa bidåda-mu?”

She jerked her head up—and nearly screamed with terror when she saw several unfamiliar faces staring at her. They were markedly different from Alolans: each man had his hair tied in a coil on top of his head, and a half-moon necklace of white stone hung around his neck. All of them stared at her in wide-eyed curiosity.

Lele froze, but they weren’t coming towards her. They stared at her in perplexity, whispering among themselves in an unfamiliar language. As she watched, she noticed they held themselves gingerly—and saw the red of blood-stained bandages peeking out from beneath their coverage of jungle leaves.

Her heart moved with pity. These men weren’t threats. They were just like the Akalans: injured and in need of care.

“Oh, you poor things. Here, let me help.”

Getting to her feet, Lele took a few steps forward.

“Asaian Yu’os, ayuda ham!”

The men quailed, their expressions no longer showing mere shock but also terror.

“Oh—I do look a little imposing, don’t I?”

Conscious of her height—she still towered over the humans—Lele shrank herself down to that of a human woman, shedding black beach sand until the men stood a few inches taller than her. She smiled up at them.

“Here—I don’t look scary anymore, do I? Now, let me see your wounds, I’ll help you.”

She knew they couldn’t understand her, but she chattered away to them anyways as she gently unwrapped the pandanus leaves around their arms and legs, healing their injuries in a few seconds. The Magå’haga stared at her in awe, laughing as they flexed limbs that were previously paralyzed, singing as they swung their newly-healed arms and legs.

One man, the sides of his head shaved and his hair tied into a long tail, stepped forward and bowed.

Saina Ma’ase, Asaina. Guaha si Kepuha.”

Lele smiled back at him, but it wasn’t until the men stared expectantly back that she realized she was supposed to give some sort of answer.

“I—I’m sorry, but I can’t understand you.”

The man thumped his chest.

“Kepuha!” He pointed to his comrades, one at a time. “Matå’pang, Gadao, Taga, i Hurao.”

He thumped his chest again. “Kepuha!”

“Oh—” Placing a hand on her chest, she said, “Lele!”

Each man bowed low, spoke more in their unfamiliar language, and departed into the trees.

Lele smiled. Her heart raced–she was still nervous and surprised at her encounter with the other islanders, but also giddy. She had never spoken with people from another culture before! Perhaps she would see more of them, learn more names, begin to learn a bit of their language, and get to know them as a people. And, really, they weren’t that different from the Akalans—they had been injured, frightened, and in need of care. She was able to heal not only her own islanders, but those from other islands, as well. The Magå’haga still revered her and accepted her healing—there was no reason they should be enemies with the Akalans!

Her heart sang. This was wonderful! Once she shared her experience with the Akalans, she knew they would be willing to end the fighting and make peace with their former enemies. This war would be forgotten, and they would all live in peace—all because of her!



“Rak-raaaak!”

“Lele, where were you? Iako and I were worried!”

“Aouli, I just had to get away and rest!”

“Our people needed you! So many injuries—so many have died!”

“But I healed others, too! They needed my help just as much as you all do.”

Aouli stared at her, the flames of the cooking fire highlighting lines on her face as her gaze hardened and her mouth hung open. Night had fallen, and only the light of torches and open fires illuminated the area. Iako ruffled his feathers and side-eyed Lele.

“What do you mean by ‘others’? We’ve been bringing all of our injured here, where you could find them!”

Lele waved away an offering of coconut soup—she’d had no desire to eat since the battles began.

“In the jungle! I went to find the flowers and rejuvenate, and I saw some injured men who needed healing.”

“But who?”

“Their names were Kepuha, Matåpang, Hurao, Taga, and Gadao!”

As soon as the foreign names left Lele’s lips, she knew she had spoken wrongly. Aouli dropped the bowl, scattering boiling soup on the ground. Almost all conversation ceased; every head turned to Lele, the eyes of all wide in horror. Iako’s feathers stood up–he appeared much larger than he really was. Aouli’s lips trembled as she stared at Lele.

“You—you healed Maga’håga warriors? Our enemies?”

“Aouli, they were injured and needed help! I didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just healing the sick!”

“They—they’ve been slaughtering our people! They’ve burned our homes to the ground, they’ve murdered our children, and—and you’re helping them?”

Lele reeled as if she’d been punched.

They’ve murdered our children.

“No—no, I didn’t mean it like that!”

She gaped at the faces of her people, her beloved Akalans, hoping for someone to step forward and defend her. But no one did. The flames threw everyone into stark contrasts of orange and black, highlighting their shock. Every pair of eyes shone with fear, with pain, and distrust. Lele’s mouth quivered and tears pooled on her eyes. Her heart twisted with guilt.

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that!”

But the people slowly backed away from her, hugging their keiki tightly to them, no longer seeking aid from the goddess they once called on.

Lele turned and ran, tears streaming down the black sand of her cheeks. She didn’t need light to see: though the moonlight was hidden by the trees overhead, she could make out every root and rock that stood in her path. She sprinted faster than any human, the wind stinging her lungs, the dry earth pounding beneath her feet, the shocked faces of the Akalans imprinted on her mind.

They’ve murdered our children.

Once the tangy scent of hibiscus reached her nostrils, she stopped running and fell to her knees. She raised her eyes, the white and pink flowers dancing about her in the moonlight. She openly cried, breathing in the floral scent, revived yet defeated.

She betrayed her own people.

No—she wasn’t the traitors, they were! Lele healed men who had families. Somewhere, on a distant island, a daughter would see her father again; a sister, her brother; a wife, her husband. Lele had done nothing wrong—she gave life!

They’ve murdered our children.

Lele broke into sobs, her head hanging low. At the end of the day, her Akalans no longer trusted her.

What was a goddess without her people?

She remained on her knees, allowing tears to freely flow, the sorrow panging in her heart. The sweet aroma of hibiscus gently soothed her nostrils and wafted over her tongue—but before long, the scent became polluted with the acridity of smoke.

Lele lifted her eyes. The moon shone like a silver crack in the sky, lighting up the jungle. The pungency of smoke strengthened, and before long, Chief Kimo materialized from the thicket, followed by several Akalan warriors. Almost all of them sported various injuries: punctured eyes, broken bones, gashed arms or legs. Pokemon including Turtonator and Vikavolt accompanied them, sporting cracks in their shields and burns on their wings. Several of the men held torches aloft, tinting the grove with orange-red light.

“Lele, I heard what happened,” Kimo said slowly, the softness of his deep voice immediately putting Lele at ease. “And I’m not here to be angry at you. You are our goddess, and we are your people. I come here in peace, and I request you heal my warriors.”

Getting to her knees, Lele wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded.

“Y—yes, of course I’ll heal you. Get in line, and I’ll see you, one at a time.”

The tone of Kimo’s voice didn’t change, but Lele saw his eyes bolden and his jaw clench.

“We don’t have that time. The Magå’haga are attacking by night, and we need to be healed as soon as possible.”

She spun on her heal at the sound of rustling—more Akalan warriors emerged from the grove, until there was a tight circle of men surrounding her. Now that she was the size of a human woman, she was aware of how large men were: they turned their heads to peer down at her, their shoulders were twice as broad as hers, and their biceps were as large as her head. They moved in, tightening the circle around her. She looked back up at Kimo.

For the first time, Lele felt afraid.

“I—I don’t know if I can!”

Despite herself, the pitch of her voice rose in panic.

“I—I’ve only ever tried one at a time, I don’t know if I can heal you all at once!”

But they didn’t stop. All of the men surrounded her, moving closer until they were within arm’s reach.

Lele gasped—someone grabbed her upper arm, and the gash along his own was instantly healed. Someone else tugged her hair, and his bruises disappeared. Others grabbed her legs, restoring their punctured eyes.

And still, they didn’t stop. The stink of their sweat filled Lele’s nose, and the heavy taste of iron from their blood was on her tongue.

“Stop!”

She screamed, but their bodies only pressed in around her all the more—rubbing up against her, grabbing her hair, her arms, her legs. Energy was zapped from Lele like never before as she was jostled between the bodies of several bloody, sweaty men.

“It didn’t work!” one man’s voice rang out. “My cuts—they’re still here!”

“Mine are, too!”

“She isn’t healing us!”

“Lele!”

Kimo’s voice boomed as he stood over the crowd, the light from his torch highlighting the fury in his face.

“Heal your people! If you want to be the goddess we worship, then restore us to life, enable us to battle, and give us the strength to protect our women and children—to protect you!”

“I can’t—I can’t!”

Lele sobbed, gasping, as men continued to jostle her, grab her, pull at her—

“Stop, stop, please stop!”

But they didn’t stop. They continued until, at last, Kimo stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her.

“Let me go, let me go!”

Her pleas were silenced as he pressed his mouth on hers—

The touch of his lips froze her, and Lele stopped pulling away. She hung limply as the men probed her, groped her, exploring any possible way to tap into her healing powers. Time stopped. Nothing had existed before then, and their frenzy continued for all eternity.

“Oof!”

Someone threw Lele to the ground. Opening her eyes, she stared up at the faces of the Akalans: ugly, twisted with rage as hatred shone in their eyes.

“Traitor!” Kimo roared. “You heal our enemies, but you won’t heal us!”

Turning around, he thrust his torch into a bracket of hibiscus. The flames engulfed the flowers, sending a torrent of fire into the night sky.

“NO!”

Lele screamed as the other warriors did the same, burning the grove, the red light of their flames blotting out the silver of the moon and the diamond-light of the stars.

She leapt to her feet, but could only stare helplessly as the scent of flowers died, replaced by the choking odor of smoke. She looked back—the Akalan warriors were departing, slowly, for many of them were still injured. Kimo glared at Lele, the ugly marks of betrayal marring his noble face. At last, he turned and followed his men, leaving Lele in the torrent of flame.

The tidal wave surged beneath Fini’s feet as she crashed it on the sandy shore of Poni Island, picking up outrigger canoes from the Magå’haga warriors and carrying them out to sea. Huntail and Blastoise cried in desperation as they were tossed about in her waves, helpless against the churning torrents she created. Fini stood amidst the sea, watching her warriors of Poni Island fight off the invaders.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a peculiar brightness. Turning, she saw Akala Island glow with an unnatural light.

Fire?

If it was fire, it was big. The Akalans would never burn so much of their own land. Dread flooded Fini’s heart. Summoning a wave, she rode it towards Akala Island, terror coursing through her veins.

Sister, what’s happened?



Roaring flames raged around Lele, but she couldn’t really hear them. Smoke, thick enough to suffocate any human, filled her lungs, but she couldn’t feel more than a slight irritation. As she kneeled on the sand, she still felt the press of Kimo’s lips on her own, the tangle of men’s hands through her hair, the jostling of their bodies around hers.

“Lele!”

She looked up to see a tower of water spiral through the air, a shimmering streak of blue mane trailing behind it. Fini rode the water column down to Lele—as she touched down, she gracefully moved her finned arms, spreading water to quench the flames. Where towers of fire had been seconds before, now there were only silent spirals of smoke. The brightness of the flames was replaced with the ashy blackness of night.

Fini ran to her sister and knelt down, her hands on Lele’s shoulders.

“Lele, what happened? What’s going on? I saw a massive fire all the way from Poni Island! What are you doing here?”

But Fini’s words didn’t register in Lele’s mind. The roar of the fire was still in her ears, the yelling of men, the ring of Kimo’s voice. Her skin was smothered with Akalan blood.

Fini roughly shook her shoulders.

“Lele, what happened?”

Lele’s pink eyes met Fini’s blue ones as they bore into her. She had never seen her sister look so terrified.

“Was—was it the Magå’haga? Did they burn the grove?”

Lele slowly shook her head.

“No. Kimo.”

Fini gasped.

“But—but why? You need the hibiscus!”

Lele said nothing.

“Are you hurt?”

She couldn’t meet Fini’s questioning gaze. She looked down at her hands.

“N—no… No, I’m not hurt.”

She hugged herself. It felt like a thousand daggers pierced her heart, ripping her up from the inside. Tears came to her eyes.

“I’m—I’m not hurt,” she sobbed, but she had never experienced more pain in her life. Kimo’s lips on her own, the jostle of bodies, the groping hands—

“Lele?”

I DON’T KNOW!

Fini was thrown back by a blast of psychic energy. Wind whipped furiously around Lele, kicking up sand and ash. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she screamed her pain.

“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW!”

With her screams, a plume of lava shot forth from Haleakala’s summit. The mountainside roared as it split open, spewing forth the innards of the earth. Sulfurous fumes bellowed out from the volcano, whipped by the furious wind.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Tears streamed from Lele’s eyes as gusts blew about her. Volcanic light illuminated the pain, hatred, and rage shining behind her pink irises.

She fell to her knees, grasping her scalp, tearing at her hair as she screamed.

“I HATE! I HATE MY BODY! I’M SO UGLY! I’M SO DISGUSTING! I HATE! I HATE!”

Lele dug her hands into her thighs as her eyes danced with manic light. Chunks of her flesh fell away, scattering as black sand in the wind.

She screamed wordlessly as she tore at her body, making it less human. Lava poured down the mountainside, flowing towards the goddess. A plume of magma erupted beneath Lele’s feet, shooting her into the sky. Fini, who hid beneath the smoldering remains of a pandanus tree as she gaped at Lele’s rage, fled to the sea.

Fire from Haleakala turned night into day. The volcanic ash blocked out all light from the stars and moon; the glow of lava illuminated everything with harsh, orange light. Across the Alolan Islands, warriors paused in their battles to look up at the towering plumes of lava, the screams of a wounded goddess ringing in their ears.

“I HATE! I HATE!”

Fire surged in torrents around Lele as Haleakala spewed its contents into the night sky. As she screamed, the mountain expelled rivers of lava, burning through the jungle of Akala and turning the rainforest into a blazing wasteland.

Men, women, children, and Pokemon screamed as they fruitlessly tried to run from the volcanic eruption. But Haleakala’s wrath covered the whole of the island, dousing every life in fire, leaving no corner untouched.

“Lele! Stop this!”

Turning her blazing eyes to the east, Lele saw her sister and brothers soar through the air towards her.

“NO! I HATE THEM ALL!”

As she screamed, Haleakala screamed with her, and her siblings dodged the tongues of fire that rained from the heavens.

Koko was the swiftest—he shot through the air, his red mohawk sparked with lightning, and his large fists sizzled with static electricity.

“OOF!”

His fist collided with her face—she plummeted to the lava rivers below, plunging into a pool of molten earth. The heat blazed around her, fire scourging through every grain of sand in her skin. Lele shot to the surface and saw Koko bearing down on her, white lightning sizzling about him as he prepared another attack.

Summoning a tidal wave of lava, Lele knocked her brother out of the air and onto hardened earth. She tackled him, lava spilling over them as she pinned him to the rock. Though the molten rock burned Lele, she got a rush of satisfaction as she watched Koko grit his teeth in agitation.

He glared at Lele with emerald eyes—but neither had time to react before vines burst from the newly-solidified rock, wrapping themselves around Lele’s ankles and wrists, pinning her arms to her sides and binding her legs.

She turned her head and saw Bulu float down and hover before Koko. Unlike his electric brother, Bulu seemed hesitant and reluctant to fight, gazing warily at his sister.

“AGH!”

With an agonized scream, Lele telekinetically summoned streams of lava—they burned her skin, but they burned through Bulu’s plants, too, freeing her. With the fiery vines still clinging to her, she shot forward, grabbing Bulu and Koko and ramming them both into the hardened earth. Fire blazed in her fists as she grasped their necks—they choked and sputtered—

A deluge of water—seemingly from nowhere—picked Lele up, quenching the flames, releasing her hold on her brothers, and slammed her onto her back. As the wave receded, she looked up to see Fini standing atop a silver-lined crest, glaring at her.

“Lele, enough! You must calm down!”

The ground beneath Lele cracked open, exposing molten magma to the air. It surged beneath Lele until she stood atop a wave, and she stood eye-level to her sister.

“I DON’T WANT TO! I WANT THEM TO DIE!”

She screamed, and the volcano roared as it belched out its fiery contents. The flames highlighted the fury in Fini’s gaze, as cold and deep as the sea itself.

Without another word, Fini lunged towards her sister, and Lele responded in kind. Water met lava—the arena was bathed in steam, and loud hissing filled their ears. Liquid evaporated into air, and magma solidified into rock. Lele and Fini grasped their arms around each other, grappling, plummeting in an endless fall.

Lele kicked Fini’s chest—her sister oomphed! as she tumbled away and crashed into the sea. Lele fell back onto land, breathing hard.

Loud crashing filled her ears—with the clouds of sulfurous ash blocking the moonlight, it was difficult to see what was happening outside of the lava glow. But as she gazed into the darkness, she beheld Fini, pale hair shining, silver eyes sparkling with rage, standing atop a wave—a monstrous wave, one that stood as tall as Haleakala itself. Lele used her psychic powers to gather lava, trying to muster up enough energy to match it—

But there was no time.

Fini’s tsunami crashed onto Lele—she tumbled like a palm frond in typhoon winds. Her limbs flailed uncontrollably as icy water surged over every pore in her sand grain skin. It filled her mouth, her eyes, pushed under her fingernails, threatening to rip her hair from her scalp—

She slammed onto substrate, the ocean continuing to crash over her for what seemed an endless amount of time. At last, as the waves washed away, she choked and sputtered, expelling saltwater from her chest. Her nostrils and throat stung as she panted. Her head throbbed horribly from where it slammed into rock. She looked up and saw, silhouetted by the silver moon, Fini glaring at her from the crest of another wave, ready to strike.

With a shudder, Lele sank back in defeat. The explosions of Haleakala ceased, and the volcano quieted. Lele hugged herself, her eyes closed as tears mingled with seawater. As she lay there, she felt the tug of her hair, the groping of several hands, and the press of Kimo’s lips on hers.

“Lele?”

Soothing waves lapped at her feet. Opening her eyes, she saw Fini, Bulu, and Koko standing before her, gazing at her with gentle concern. Lele couldn’t stop herself—she broke down sobbing, flinging herself into Fini’s open arms. She shivered in her sister’s embrace, her brothers patting her back. Gently, Fini whispered in her ear.

“We’re here for you.”



Dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky pale greens and blues. Akala Island was little more than a solid, flat rock interrupted by the volcano. The caldera still glowed faintly, giving off faint smoke in the morning light. All vegetation had been blazed away by Haleakala’s awakening. Lava continued to slowly seep from the crater, pouring down the mountainside in tired rivulets.

Lele knelt on the shore, the fine black sands replaced by porous rock. Her body was much smaller and thinner than before; her cascades of pink hair nearly touched the ground. Around her, remnant husks of coconuts and wood of koa trees—what was left of battles pushed ashore from other islands—slowly built up, merging into a shell. A triangular piece sat on her head, taking on the same pink hue as her hair.

She didn’t look up when she heard splashing. She didn’t respond when she felt Fini’s webbed hands wrap around her slim shoulders.

“Sister.”

Lele raised her eyes. Fini, too, had a large shell covering her head, the top ending in a pointed crest that looked like that of a dark Gyarados. Her form was also less human than before; she had foregone legs for a scaled tail, and a shell with tribal symbols of Poni Island trailed behind her.

“Come with me. I’m going to see Koko and Bulu. We should be together.”

Getting to her feet, Lele slowly complied. She floated through the air over Fini’s swimming form, the koa wood and coconut husks hardening around her.



Akala Island slowly became green again as coconuts, plumerias, and seeds of other plants found their way to its beaches—all except hibiscus. Those plants that found their way to Akala took root, broke the porous rock into black sand, and made the land fertile once more. Pokemon followed suit, and before long, groups Aipom, flocks of Rowlets and Natu, and crowds of Jangmo-o inhabited its shores. The Pokemon were wilder than Akala’s previous inhabitants. The atmosphere of the island was thick with tension, and the Pokemon constantly felt unsafe. Whether on the shore, in the jungle, or on the mountain, they always felt as if a multitude of invisible eyes watched them.

Lele hovered under a koa tree while Fini floated in a pool of water, rivulets of a small stream pouring from a cliffside down her back. Lele watched two Jangmo-o scuffle, the claws locked around each other.

“Ja!”

With a triumphant cry, one lizard flipped his brother over and slammed him face-first into the dirt. The Jangmo-o lay there, defeated, as his brother pounded his chest and roared in triumph.

Lele smiled as she watched the Jangmo-o fall to the ground, and her smile widened when he failed to rise. Floating over, she scattered scales of black sand over him. The fallen Jangmo-o’s eyes flashed open, and without hesitation, he leapt up and pounced on his brother, catching him off guard.

The process repeated itself: one lizard succeeded in incapacitating the other, Lele healed the fallen Pokemon, and the two began fighting again, until both were too tired to keep moving.

“You’re no fun!” she sighed. “Come on, fight! I want to see you two really dig into each other!”

“Why do you do that, Lele?” Fini asked with a disapproving glare.

“Because,” she huffed, “after I’ve gone through it, it feels good to see others go through it, too!”

Fini sighed.

“You’re not doing much to make this island peaceful, you realize.”

Lele kept her pink eyes trained on two Natu fluttering above, pecking each other. One flinched as its eye was pecked—she healed it and watched him go after his enemy with renewed vigor.

“Who said I wanted peace?” she seethed.

She levitated in the air, floating above the tree canopy. Akala shown like a green gem in the Alolan Island chain, the top of Haleakala crested with clouds like an elder’s crown of white hair. The turquoise ocean glistened like scattered gemstones, broken only by Melemele and Poni Islands to the west and Ula’ula Island to the east. Her pink eyes roved over the waterfalls cascading down the sides of Haleakala, winding through the verdant rainforests and into open fields. Several creatures were visible trekking on the grassy plain. Her heart skipped a beat—

Humans.

Several people accompanied by various Pokemon walked through the open plains, carrying something—Lele couldn’t identify what—in their arms of various pinks, whites, and yellows.

Her heart raced with fury, hatred pounding so hard through her that it gave her a headache. They chose to come back—and she would give them more than they came for.

She dropped into the jungle—not even bothering to tell her sister; Fini would say to leave the humans alone. Lele telekinetically moved the plants so they parted way and created an open path for her. Black sand rose around her in spirals, her psychic energy kicking it up in a whirlwind. Leaves and palm fronds whipped about her as she shot forward like a released slingstone, firing away through the rainforest at breakneck speed.

She burst through the canopy and into the open field—

There they were.

Humans, dozens of them. And a variety of traitorous Pokemon accompanied them! She shot forward, gaining momentum, determined to run them through—they fell to their knees, bowing their heads, the faces covered by their black hair, placing the flowers on the ground—

Lele stopped as suddenly as she began. She floated mere inches before them. The sand and debris she had kicked up fell to the ground. She leaned forward in her shell, staring fixedly at the flowers.

Hibiscus.

The flowers grew in pots—every human held one. And, once they saw Lele, they placed their plants on the ground and bowed their heads low.

One person at the front of the group raised her head. Cascades of silver hair spilled around her bony shoulders. A Comfey holding a trail of hibiscus flowers floated next to her. The woman’s wrinkled face creased into a smile as her black eyes met Lele’s.

Aloha, Tapu Lele,” she said. “I am Haleola, a kahuna lapa‘au. This is Pua–” she indicated the Comfey, who happily chirped.

“We come to you from Ule’ule Island. Our ancestors resided in Akala during the Invasion from the West. Many of their women and children were carried off, never seen again. Others escaped to neighboring Alolan Islands, where we’ve stayed until this day.

“These are our gifts.” She indicated the hibiscus flowers. “Legend has it that you need the flowers to live. These are for you. We come here to ask your permission to live on the shores of Akala Island once more.

“And, if you give us your blessing, we would like to hold proper funerals for our dead. We understand the wrong that our ancestors have done to you, and we want to release their restless souls from this island so they may be at peace.”

Dozens of pairs of eyes looked at Lele expectantly. She stared back, a mix of emotions swirling through her. Surely they knew of her! They knew of her rampage, of how she cleared Akala Island, of how she made its shores unsafe—she wanted them to fear her! She wasn’t the Lele that ancient Akalans had gone to for daily favors; she was Tapu Lele, holy and forbidden.

All of a sudden, the sweet scent of the Comfey’s flowers wafted to her—gentle, but it had been so long that she had smelled hibiscus on Akala Island that the mere taste was like stepping under a waterfall on a blistering hot day.

Lele looked at Haleola and Pua. The kahuna laid a basket made of woven palm fronds on the ground, and Lele saw an array of poultices, herbs, and bandages peeking out from beneath the half-open lid. She switched her gaze to the flowers in Haleola’s arms—their white petals were darkening to pink under the afternoon sun. Haleola extended her gift to the Tapu.

With shaking hands, Lele reached out of her shell and took the blossoms. Pua placed the lei over the crown of Lele’s shell. As the scent filled her nostrils and the aroma fell on her tongue, a peace that had long been absent from Lele’s heart fell over her.

She was lying in the grove, the hibiscus swaying gently in the breeze. The air was filled with flowers.

Raising her eyes, Lele saw Haleola gently gazing at her—unlike the frightened shock of Aouli or the brutal leer of Kimo, the kahuna’s look held a wisdom Lele had not seen in humans before. Something in her eyes spoke of far-off islands, of hard times, of fought battles—many won and lost.

They held their gaze for a minute. Keeping the flowers in her arms, the Tapu shot into the sky.



In the distance, she heard the clack of wooden spoons on pots as people prepared poi and roasted fish. Distant chirps from Xatu and barks from Rockruff carried in the breeze. Throughout the island, the atmosphere was relaxed—it always had been, ever since the passing ceremony for the ancient Akalans.

Lele lay sprawled on the ground, her shell lying empty in the grass. She would get back into it—she never was without it. The only place she dared step outside anymore was in the sacred hibiscus grove. The blooming trees swayed around her, their silver petals like stars in the moonlight, larger and more beautiful replacements of those that stood there countless years ago. As she lay, she breathed in their floral aroma, the flowers dancing beneath the starlight.
 

SparklingEspeon

Back on Her Bullshit
Staff
Location
a Terrace of Indeterminate Location in Snowbelle
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. espurr
  2. fennekin
  3. zoroark
Hello, here for catnip!

Admittedly I’ve never seen a tapu fic before, so this came as a surprise. I really liked the legendy-myth spin you took on it (which I suppose was in line with the contest theme) – while I’m no expert on Hawaiian/Pacific Islander culture, this really does feel like something that could come out of there, so great job with that! I also have to compliment your prose; I feel like it’s a hard line to strike between prose that’s bare and gets the job done and prose that’s lush but slows everything down to chew the details, and yours walks that tightrope perfectly. Your style really accounted for 75% of the vibe and you Nailed It, I don’t think it would have hit nearly as hard if you hadn’t gone hard with the words here :okgon:

I liked the dynamic between Lele and Fini a lot. Lele feels like someone who hasn’t quite had anything to challenge her innocence yet; when she learns that marauders are coming, her first reaction is to assume they’re friendly, and then her second reaction is to insist that there just can’t be conflict because she doesn’t want it. She tries her best to heal people but can’t handle what the horrors of battle throw at her, and doesn’t think twice before healing enemy warriors because If She Just Heals Them They’ll Understand Right.

It feels like the perfect storm – someone innocent and reckless being thrown into a situation that’s terrible beyond all belief, and to top it all off after getting accused of betrayal (granted, when feelings were running rather high) she winds up actually betrayed by the leader of her clan and his soldiers. Who is like, actually gross and terrible?? He was so manipulative and nasty and completely willing to take advantage of her. The entire thing felt symbolic of something else, and written accordingly, but there’s just no way he wasn’t waiting for a while to Do That. The entire scene comes off as harrowing in general, which leads into the final meltdown where Lele basically purges the island completely and changes pretty hard after that.

I think there’s intended symbolism in the adoption of Lele’s shell following that incident – it certainly seems like the kind of thing that would make you grow a shell if you didn’t already have one, and given how her naivete and openness was emphasised in the beginning I think it hits pretty hard as a thematic closer. It’s nice to see her finally sort of recovering in the end, after all that destruction and time; the experience will never leave her and she’ll never be the person she was before it, but she’ll heal and move on in her own way.

Overall, really enjoyed my time with this! You set an immaculate theme and tone, and the second half of the oneshot handled its themes with exactly the kind of depth and justice it deserved. As always, your work is incredibly impressive, and I look forward to reading it every time I get a chance. Until next time, and good luck with your writing!

~SparklingEspeon
 

kintsugi

golden scars | pfp by sun
Location
the warmth of summer in the songs you write
Pronouns
she/her
Partners
  1. silvally-grass
  2. lapras
  3. golurk
  4. booper-kintsugi
  5. meloetta-kint-muse
  6. meloetta-kint-dancer
  7. murkrow
  8. yveltal
I really like the thread you drew here of worship, and how it can and can’t relate to love–there’s a lot of emotions roiling in the Akalan’s betrayal, but I was most struck by the expectations of love, the idea of worshiping this idea of someone rather than who they are, the realization that they can revere you without loving you. It’s a raw and visceral portrayal of a transactional relationship–and one that quickly becomes one-way, and it’s really heartbreaking to watch. I’ve always found Tapu Lele’s lore very incongruent; there’s a nature spirit who is known both to heal people and to enact enormous, guiltless violence–what kind of legend feels that way? And I like the answer you constructed here.

I also liked the aftermath a lot. Lele feels betrayed by her own body, her siblings confront her but only enough to make her calm down, the Alolan waves crash on. No one leaves feeling like a victor, which was a really human take for a story about legends, but I think it worked here because, idk, I think I’m just drawn to the idea that gods don’t triumph all the time either. The shell and the grove is a poignant closing image, and I think strikes a fair balance in what would normally be a hard thing to convey–the long months and years of change that come after this kind of trauma vs the fact that oneshots have a word count + it’s hard to convey the passage of time meaningfully–she’s different, but she can still be herself, just not around everyone else. I did find it odd that Fini also grows a shell at the same time, given that she’s been much more removed and suspicious from humans–i wasn’t quite sure what the takeaway from that was.

There are a lot of really gorgeous images in this. I’m a huge sucker for betrayed legends with big swoopy dramatic hair who already look mostly human but are also clearly still drawing cues from their pokemon counterparts. Even acknowledging my massive bias, I think you have some really evocative imagery, some of which stuck in my head and would not leave, so here’s a speedpaint that I did instead of making more words here:
 

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
Hi Starlight!! I've been wanting to read this one-shot since you posted it so now that it's one-shot week, I'm gonna do the thing.

So to start, you set an IMMACULATE tone and setting for this. The whole opening sequence had me like :0, I fucking felt like I was on a Hawaiian island covered in hibiscus. But of course, as with any flowery opening (literally in this sense), I expect it all to go horribly wrong in no time and boy.......it fucking did.

This was hard to read, but like, in a good way. Your writing was wonderful, but watching what Lele had to go through was a fucking gut punch. I have to admit, I cringed awfully hard during her first interaction with Fini, who was essentially warning her of what was to come, but she was so full of a childlike naivete that she couldn't see it, and it was just physically painful, because oh my god baby no. You have absolutely no idea what's coming and she can't even fathom it. She STILL can't even fathom it even as its happening; she struggles with the gore and the fact that she just cannot heal those that are too far gone. It had me wondering, though, if the villagers had ever come to her with the sick and dying previously? Like, obviously not dying of gaping wounds in their chests, but perhaps dying of sickness or something more natural? Had Lele ever even WITNESSED death prior to the war? I feel like she could have, but I could also parse a world where on her innocent little childlike fantasy island she just found a way to eliminate all illness LOL. But I still don't think that would keep people from dying so, I don't know. It got me thinking that I would have liked to have seen a little more internal thought around that--something about how maybe she'd seen death before the fighting, and even tried to bring the dead back, but couldn't?

I also cringed through her reasoning for healing the Magå’haga warrior because wow.....she was coming from such a good place; she could not parse the idea that these humans were any different than her Akalans, or that, even worse, they might be hurting her Akalans. To her, they were just hurt humans who needed help. So returning to the distrust she got from those her formally worshipped her was so jarring for her that it was jarring for me. I really did ache for Lele there. She just wanted peace, but, like a child, she didn't know how the "real world worked."

The scene was Kimo was excellently written. I went through all the motions of feeling at ease with her, because he was a face she (and I as the reader) trusted, only for everything to go wrong so fucking fast and in the worst possible way. Fini's earlier warning feels absolutely haunting at this stage, because it's come true: they've taken advantage of her in every way they could. I couldn't help but wonder if Kimo had been just waiting for this opportunity because he just didn't hesitate. He knew how her healing worked, and still insisted she just try something different, and when that didn't work, he lunged at her. I won't get into how real that whole scene felt to me, but yeah. Very real, and very well written. I almost want to wonder why she didn't just contort her body to be taller again, but honestly, I imagine it was just shock and she froze.

The subsequent breakdown leading to her adopting the use of the shell (over what I assume is like, a millennia) felt natural, at least in line with a god. The humans assault her, burn the very thing that gave her sustenance, and leave her feeling like everything is her fault when she had nothing but good intentions in her heart. Naturally self-loathing and utter detestation builds for this race that took advantage of her, and she just explodes. The reaction felt perfectly visceral. Admittedly, however, I was a little lost in the sauce of the battle; I wasn't really sure how to picture where everyone was and who was doing what and how the scene looked as a whole, so it threw me off my reading groove just a little bit. But it didn't subtract too much from how raw the scene was.

I liked, overall, how this seemed to tie into Lele's general cruel disposition in the "modern" era. Not sure how much time has actually passed, but either way, she's regarded in the PokeDex as being kinda savage, and it totally tracks that these events totally stripped her out of that innocent goodness and left her a brutal goddess who felt the need to shell up from the world around her (quite literally). It made me sad for her. I was thrilled to death when the modern Alolan's brought back her hibiscus, and while she found her peace around that, its still clear that she'll never truly be the same. She hides away now, not keen on making the same mistake she did before, and just......ugh, my cold dead heart. I loved the whole concept of just stripped innocence happening here--Lele truly was stripped of all the childlike goodness within her in every horrible way possible.

This was a great one-shot, one that resonated with me quite a bit, and I really thank you for writing it. Cheers, and I hope to see you around sis 🤍
 

HelloYellow17

Gym Leader
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. suicune
  2. umbreon
  3. mew
  4. lycanroc-wes
  5. leafeon-rui
I’m…at a loss for words.

Of all your one-shots that I’ve read (in the span of a day because apparently it turned into a Starlight Marathon for me over here, lol), this one hit the hardest. I am…extremely fortunate to have never experienced the specific kind of trauma shown here, but the overall themes of grief, trauma, anger, and healing are ones that can be universal, I think. Certainly, they are ones that struck a personal chord with me.

On another note, you once again absolutely knocked the setting out of the park. You’ve written such a variety of different time periods, locations, and cultures—and you write them all so beautifully, as if you’ve lived those cultures yourself. I’m truly in awe of how you do it.

The four beings stood to their full heights, stretching out their hands, tossing their heads full of hair, filling their lungs with the tang of marine air and floral aroma—reveling in their first moments of life.
Ohhhhhh wowowow this was a STUNNING opener. Absolutely gorgeous. What the heck, it should be illegal for one’s writing to flow so organically and beautifully.


Her favorites were those that were a silvery white in the morning and darkened to pink in the afternoon.
WHAT! Are these a real flower?! If so, I need to see them immediately

“Please be careful, Iako and Aouli. Keep this up, and you humans will expect me to heal everyone on these islands!”
Hahaha funny! Haha…ha…why do I feel anxious over this line. 😬

“I saw them myself. Each ship is full of men. Armed. There are few women. I didn’t see any children. And accompanied by hordes of Gorebyss, Basculin, Tirtouga, Huntail–I even saw Carracosta and a Milotic. Those are Pokemon ready to fight.”

“Maybe they’re just looking for a new home!”
Oh, Lele. She is painfully naive here, but having lived an easy and peaceful life, she has nothing else to refer to. I wish something could have better prepared her for what’s to come, but even then, there’s only so much preparation one can do. War is something that nobody should ever witness, no matter how hardened.


Don’t think you’re safe from conflict just because you don’t want it.
This is a powerful line, and I only wish Lele could have understood it a little better.

But Nahoa’s eyes remained closed, his body still.

“Lele, please!” Hina shrieked.

“I’m—I’m sorry!”

Lele hugged herself—she couldn’t stop staring at Nahoa’s lifeless face as the attendants bore him away.

But the flow of injured warriors didn’t stop. As she shook scales over them, healing wounds in a trice, Nahoa’s open eyes stared blankly at her.
Didn’t it just say his eyes were closed?
Still, though, this seems to be her first experience with death—or at least, a violent and gruesome death. This poor girl was taken from utter sheltered bliss and thrown into the deepest pits of hell in the span of a day. Anybody would struggle to adjust.

She hugged her knees to her chest as she watched Akalan women feed warriors—healed from their injuries, but depleted of their strength.
Nice detail that even though she can heal wounds, she can’t supply endless energy.

But the sight of open gashes, splintered bones, and pools of blood remained behind her eyes.

Curling into a ball, Lele spent the night in the grove, allowing the floral scent to soothe her.
my heart just breaks for her. She’s trying, but she was so ill-equipped to handle something like this. They probably all were, but everyone else has the luxury to only worry about themself, the luxury to fall apart—she does not. The weight of the world is on her shoulders, and while healing is a simple task for her, nobody is questioning the emotional burdens she’s being asked to carry.

The shields—or what she assumed used to be their shields—lay in smithereens. They might have had no shields at all, for their torsos were wide open, their innards spilling out, still attached to the insides, but lying on piles next to them or on top of their exposed skin.

“Agh!”

“Lele, come back!”
Oh gosh yeah, I’d have run too. They couldn’t have at least tried to prepare her a little? I suppose, in the middle of battle, there’s no time for such gentleness. My heart goes out to her, but to her people, too—they are desperate, and she’s the only one who can save them.

Her heart moved with pity. These men weren’t threats. They were just like the Akalans: injured and in need of care.
Ohhhh no, baby girl, no. She means so well, but this is not going to reflect well to her people. She has no idea what she’s about to do.

Her heart sang. This was wonderful! Once she shared her experience with the Akalans, she knew they would be willing to end the fighting and make peace with their former enemies. This war would be forgotten, and they would all live in peace—all because of her!
And even after witnessing so much horror, that childlike innocence and naivety remains (mostly) intact. I’m so anxious for what’s to come—there is no way this goes over well.

“They—they’ve been slaughtering our people! They’ve burned our homes to the ground, they’ve murdered our children, and—and you’re helping them?”
And there it is. I can’t even fault Aoli’s anger here—if I had just lost a loved one that afternoon and found out Lele had healed my enemies, I’d be enraged, too. But Lele just…has no idea. She has no idea how deep human hatred can go…and she’s about to find out. 💔

Lele lifted her eyes. The moon shone like a silver crack in the sky, lighting up the jungle. The pungency of smoke strengthened, and before long, Chief Kimo materialized from the thicket, followed by several Akalan warriors. Almost all of them sported various injuries: punctured eyes, broken bones, gashed arms or legs. Pokemon including Turtonator and Vikavolt accompanied them, sporting cracks in their shields and burns on their wings. Several of the men held torches aloft, tinting the grove with orange-red light.
Gosh this is horrifyingly foreboding. Even though these are her people, she should be safe, this description makes it clear that she isn’t.

Someone threw Lele to the ground. Opening her eyes, she stared up at the faces of the Akalans: ugly, twisted with rage as hatred shone in their eyes.
This was hard to read. Desperation really does bring out the absolute worst of humanity at times, and it’s agonizing that she had to bear the brunt of it. When I read the warnings at the beginning, I had assumed that the mentioned scene would happen at the hands of the enemy—but no, it’s worse, so much worse. And that serves as a stark reminder of a very painful and cold truth—that most cases of rape and assault happen with someone the victim knows. The worst kinds of wounds are often inflicted by those close to us.

The tidal wave surged beneath Fini’s feet as she crashed it on the sandy shore of Poni Island, picking up outrigger canoes from the Magå’haga warriors and carrying them out to sea.
Seems like you’re missing a line break above this paragraph here!

I DON’T KNOW!

Fini was thrown back by a blast of psychic energy. Wind whipped furiously around Lele, kicking up sand and ash. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she screamed her pain.

“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW!”
The rape scene was hard, but this is what got me emotional. So much rage and confusion and terror and raw, blistering hurt. The need to lash out and destroy because you yourself feel like you’ve been destroyed and there’s nothing left that matters. Her pain is so visceral here and it just—it shreds me. It’s a kind of pain I’m familiar with, and it’s one that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even an enemy.

Without another word, Fini lunged towards her sister, and Lele responded in kind. Water met lava—the arena was bathed in steam, and loud hissing filled their ears. Liquid evaporated into air, and magma solidified into rock. Lele and Fini grasped their arms around each other, grappling, plummeting in an endless fall.
This was beautifully depicted. I love that her siblings are only apprehending her to stop the rampage, but try their best not to hurt her. They just want to stop her from hurting herself.

As she lay there, she felt the tug of her hair, the groping of several hands, and the press of Kimo’s lips on hers.
Pain. They really broke her in the cruelest way possible.

Akala Island slowly became green again as coconuts, plumerias, and seeds of other plants found their way to its beaches—all except hibiscus. Those plants that found their way to Akala took root, broke the porous rock into black sand, and made the land fertile once more. Pokemon followed suit, and before long, groups Aipom, flocks of Rowlets and Natu, and crowds of Jangmo-o inhabited its shores. The Pokemon were wilder than Akala’s previous inhabitants. The atmosphere of the island was thick with tension, and the Pokemon constantly felt unsafe. Whether on the shore, in the jungle, or on the mountain, they always felt as if a multitude of invisible eyes watched them.
Nice detail that the wildlife on the island reflects her own emotional state—guarded, tense, looking to lash out.

“You’re no fun!” she sighed. “Come on, fight! I want to see you two really dig into each other!”

“Why do you do that, Lele?” Fini asked with a disapproving glare.

“Because,” she huffed, “after I’ve gone through it, it feels good to see others go through it, too!”

Lele kept her pink eyes trained on two Natu fluttering above, pecking each other. One flinched as its eye was pecked—she healed it and watched him go after his enemy with renewed vigor.

“Who said I wanted peace?” she seethed.
This hurts, and I can’t blame her for this, I really can’t. She has every reason to believe she needs to keep her guard up at all times. But it pains me to see her subjecting others to it, too. It’s not enough to feel it alone—she wants everyone to suffer with her.


Lele stopped as suddenly as she began. She floated mere inches before them. The sand and debris she had kicked up fell to the ground. She leaned forward in her shell, staring fixedly at the flowers.

Hibiscus.
Hhhh I hope that this can be the first step toward healing. For the humans, it’s been centuries, but for her, it may as well have been last week.

She wasn’t the Lele that ancient Akalans had gone to for daily favors; she was Tapu Lele, holy and forbidden.
Because to her, the best way to protect yourself is to make yourself unapproachable, fearsome, and cold. And hey, it works to some extent…but it’s no way to live.

Lele lay sprawled on the ground, her shell lying empty in the grass. She would get back into it—she never was without it. The only place she dared step outside anymore was in the sacred hibiscus grove.
Much like in Clovers, the ending does not sugarcoat things. There’s a seed of hope, yes…but there’s still lots of pain, lots of healing to take place, and the guarantee that things aren’t ever going to be the same as they once were. Trauma leaves scars—deep ones, some that simply never fully heal. And while it’s important to remember that such pain doesn’t stop one from being able to live a life of joy again, it’s important to recognize that it will always stay with you, too.

Some things can’t be healed with time or with a heroic speech—not completely, anyway. And…that’s okay. Because one doesn’t need to be completely healed to still be worthy of love.

Thank you for writing this and sharing it. I know it contains some deeply personal topics and it can be scary to share, but this…is very worth sharing, and I’m glad you did. Sending you all the hugs. 💛
 
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