Arbee
Bug Catcher
- Pronouns
- he/him
Chapter 20 - Fear to Tread
"Some things are better left buried."
"Come on, Garnet!" Grookey clapped, cheering up his little buddy, his hit-pitched voice cracking with excitement. "Don't trip this time!"
"He's going to trip..." Sobble let out a merry chuckle.
"Here goes!" the bunny shrieked, psyching himself up, his wide eyes locked on a tennis ball perched on the sidewalk. Patchy, chewed, barely holding together. But it was theirs.
He dashed. A little too excited to impress his older friends. His foot hauled off, putting all of his strength into the strike. What he lacked in might, he made up for with sheer enthusiasm.
The child hit the toy with all his strength, spinning awkwardly as he fell onto the grass. Despite the tumble, his snout sprang up, watching the ball fly.
It wasn't just off the target. The ball flew over the garbage can they used as a goalpost and took flight into the second-story building next to theirs.
"Whoops..." Garnet managed a bashful smile. His heart skipped as the projectile struck a window.
A loud bang of breaking glass echoed. Shards fell to the filthy pavement down below, each piece adding to their chagrin.
The kids froze. Stuck between the fight and flight, they watched the shattered frame. One second passed. Another one. Then... Nothing.
The lights inside didn't spring to life. No sounds escaped the balcony.
"So, uh..." Scorbunny tittered, paw rubbing his scraped knee. "What do we do?"
"We get the ball back!" Grookey pointed at the toy stuck between the double-layered sheets of glass. One broken, the other partially destroyed.
"Priorities!" Little Sobble backed him up.
The monkey awkwardly looked around for any whistleblowers. A couple of passersby stopped to peek into the dirty alley.
"They're gonna see me if I climb..." he whispered, watching the people gather up behind the fence.
"I got it!" The lizard tapped his shoulder, slipping between the bars. Her blue scales changed color, turning dull brown, spotted white. A hue of salt the coastal wind carried over from the sea.
She couldn't help but let out a chortle, vanishing amidst the trash cans and roof drain pipes.
Another day. Another game. It has been such a long while. But life has finally started to feel normal. The bones of the past were buried deep under the warm quilt of joy and laughter.
Her little hands scaled the wall, slipping from one sill onto the other. Until she disappeared in a downspout, safely tucked away from prying eyes.
The lizard waited for a pair of Pidove to pass by, spooked by all of the commotion. She rolled out of the pipe, pressing herself into the wall and hiding under the faded awning. Stray beams of morning sun struck her blind. But she pushed forth. Her only silent witness, a bright blue butterfly perched on the shattered frame, took off, playfully brushing against her crest.
"Don't tell anyone," she whispered to the monarch with a giggle.
Her friends watched her in quiet awe, peeking from behind the fence. Sobble's fingers pried the ball out of the broken glass. The evidence was gone. Before anyone could notice. Perfect.
She teetered on the edge, picking a safe spot to take a plunge into a drum full of water underneath. A chuckle quietly escaped her lips. She paused. For just a fleeting moment. One single second to take the sting out of it. One second that would change everything.
The eyes of half a dozen passersby, still chittering away, were locked on the shattered window. Her tongue slipped out to tease the clueless fools. But it turned out she wasn't the only one seizing the distraction. Somewhere below, a figure slipped behind the rubbernecks, chin tightly pressed into his chest, his sailor's hat pulled down low.
He disappeared as quickly as he came into view. Another face amidst the crowd. Another stranger among many. But one thing caught her eye. That briefcase. That damnable locked case that burnt its way into her memory. Old, patchy, and unmarked. Yet unmistakable.
She froze. The smile slipped off her face, stripped clean by a ghostly wind of memories. And for the moment, the whole world vanished.
"Psst," Scorbunny whispered, clicking his fingers to get attention. "Opal?"
"Yeah?" The lizard snapped out of it, still fiddling with the ball. "Oh, right..."
She plunged off the balcony, landing in the water with a quiet, almost weightless puff. Her scales changed color yet again, perfectly blending in.
The child slithered back between the bars. This time without enthusiasm. Like she was on a walk of shame. The tennis ball slipped out, bumping into the bunny's foot.
"You're the best!" Grookey shared a wide grin.
"That was SO cool!" Garnet proudly remarked.
Opal tried to smile, but couldn't. Her gaze drifted outside. The specter vanished, but the pull of memories remained.
"You wanna go play tag now?" Scorbunny awkwardly shifted from one foot to another.
Silence.
"Opal?" Mal blinked.
She turned around, batting her glassy eyes. "I think I want to rest now."
The two friends exchanged a look.
"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" Garnet faltered, guilt creeping into his high-pitched voice.
"No. Just... Winded," Sobble laughed it off. "I'll join you later. Promise."
It seemed to satisfy the bunny. His eyes moved to the friend. A moment of awkward silence. Before his paw tapped his shoulder. He dashed away before his friend could yelp. "YOU FIRST!"
"HEY!" Grookey pulled a pout, dropping his stick in a hurry. "THAT'S CHEATING!"
Another day, another game. It didn't take long for both of them to get carried away. But not for Opal. The ghost was there. Somewhere. Calling.
She turned around, watching her friends vanish behind the house, one chasing the other. Their screams and laughter made her pause. That precious carefree laughter wiped her slate clean.
Her hand slipped between the bars. One part of her held back.
Why now? Why, when the grave was put to rest?
The pull was stronger than the sense of reason. Perhaps it was a trick of her imagination. Perhaps it wasn't him. Perhaps, she'd track the stranger only to find out that it was all a fantasy. That sounded right.
Sobble slithered out into the alley. The specter had a headstrap. And so she ran. Some grandma shrieked when she slipped past between her legs. A child dropped his glass of soda. Wind brushed against her scales, cold and salty.
Colors, buildings, windows, and the scattered stalls passed by. A blur. Something within her stirred, convinced that it was an illusion. A figment of her young imagination, nothing more. But that creeping urge pushed forth. To put her racing heart at ease. At last. To let it beat again, assured that the past is gone for good.
Time stretched out. She didn't even notice how she made it all the way up to the docks, taking turns at random and picking the direction that felt right. Still nothing. What was she hoping for? What were the chances?
Sobble stopped, looking at the rusty wall of an old warehouse. She sighed, then closed her eyes. A quiet laugh escaped her. It was a dumb idea after all. A game of tag was what she truly needed.
The lizard turned around. Embarrassed by herself. Only to catch the ghost standing a mere dozen feet away.
She froze, ducking behind a trash can.
There he was, scanning the alley to make sure no one followed, that cursed briefcase in hand. The sailor knocked on the metal door, shifting his valise from one sweaty hand to the other for too long, until footsteps thundered on the other side.
A spyhole opened up. The bars clicked. A warehouse gate creaked open. No words exchanged. No questions asked. The docker stepped inside.
The lizard took a deep breath. Now or never. She knew she shouldn't. She knew it was a bad idea. But curiosity and shame forced her hand before the force of reason could.
Opal's lips curled. A jet of water shot out of her mouth to knock a bottle over.
<What->
It bought her but a second. A split-second opening to move. She dashed through a broken cart and leaped, silently clutching a lamp pole and landing on the doorframe. Too small. Too light to draw attention.
<It must have been the wind,> the docker croaked.
Sobble slithered in without making noise. A mere fraction of a moment before the door slammed shut. Her scales turned black to merge with the gloom as she crawled her way across the ceiling, disappearing amidst the rusty pipes.
The lights were scarce. Nothing but a couple of kerosene lamps flickering their last. A few more people. A pair of them moved crates into an unmarked van. The other man popped screws out of a license plate, using the spare ones on the floor. A painfully thin vulpine dutifully passed the tools. Little Eevee looked like a ball of grease and diesel, her brown fur painted black.
<Not this one, idiot. That's for hex sockets,> he groaned. <You really want to make my job much harder, don't you?>
<Hah!> One of the people let out an exhausted laugh. <Consider giving it your Ice-Stone. If it can't handle finding a screwdriver, we might as well save up on coolant.>
<I'll think about it,> the mechanic shot the miserable thing a savage grin. <Get back to work. I asked for one with a cross. A CROSS, you dumbass.>
"I'm sorry," the wretched creature whimpered, skittering off towards a toolbox.
Somehow her voice sounded... Familiar.
A lanky man with a black scruffy beard wiped his oily hands on a rag and tossed it aside, finally addressing their guest. <Took you long enough.>
<Sorry, Walter. Complications. I thought the bobbies were paid off. They weren't supposed to give me trouble.> The sailor took a deep breath of relief.
<They are. Half the district looks away for profit. But there's always that one asshole who's too good to make cash,> the roughneck explained, fixing his duckbill cap. Grease-stained hands left oil on gray overalls. <It's none of their business what's in your briefcase unless they have a warrant. Play by their rules.>
<Noted,> the docker huffed, shaking his little package. <Got some fresh meat for you.>
<Really? What are we having?> Walter shared a nod, wiping sweat off his forehead. <If this one's like the last, we're set.>
The sailor paused before unlocking his precious little valise. <About that...>
<Ah, and here I was with my high hopes...> the roughneck sighed.
<I lost a contact a few months ago. Used to bring me loads of good stuff. It's not the same since he left,> the docker admitted quietly. <Now I get what I can from clueless kids willing to haggle.>
Sobble's heart skipped a beat as she pressed her back into the pipes a little harder, trying to remain unseen.
<Jail?> Walter idly inquired, sifting through the stack of Poké Balls.
<Accident. Apparently. That or the poor sod couldn't handle the pressure. Perhaps it's guilt.> The sailor took a guess.
<Pfft... Guilt,> the roughneck laughed. <Now everyone's going to pretend like we haven't farmed Pokémon for ages. Furs, meat, and leather don't grow on trees. Lest we start acting like we invented faux along with the tools of iron.>
<Eh. It's one thing to buy trinkets made of Pokémon. Sending one to the slaughterhouse yourself is different. But I digress.> The docker shook his head. <How's the last batch?>
<Not too shabby,> Walter idly replied. A disappointed sigh escaped him as he went through each and every sphere. <Ten out of twenty went on their merry way to meet the butcher. We put the other half to train. Six didn't last. The rest are fitting well. Somewhat.>
<I figure,> the sailor shot a glance towards little Eevee digging through the toolbox. <Still kicking, huh? What's with the cats? My contact said those two are special. Can't find any like that in Galar.>
Sobble's breath hitched, a wave of dread flooding her. Last batch. It all made sense. Those little friends she had helped catch.
<Mhm,> the roughneck groaned, tapping on the pocket on his chest. He slipped a wallet out to count bills. <One of the reasons we keep them both around. For now. If they learn well, they'll earn us more than we invest.>
He shoved the payment into the sailor's hand, reaching for a pack of smokes. <Sixteen. Seventeen. Come say hi.>
A broken meow cut through the echoes in the warehouse.
"No quiero..." A small, whimpering voice rang from the car's cabin.
"Vamos, Kuo," Another one, much calmer, soothed. "They aren't going to hurt us if we listen. Please?"
A pause. A painfully long one.
<Did I fucking stutter?> Walter got annoyed, shooting a glance towards the car.
"Vale," the smaller one replied, squeezing out a miserable sniffle. "Okay..."
Two kittens slipped off the front seat, their bodies gaunt and trembling. Both alike as two reflections in a mirror. Only a brand marked one Sprigatito from its twin. A fresh, pink scar shaped like an R was burned into their pelts where the little friend's marks used to be. The boy wore his upon his thigh, the girl upon her chest. They circled their master, the movements stiff, the misery impossible to hide. Their eyes, haunted and empty, flicked up with silent pleas for mercy no one would give.
<They lost some weight,> the sailor cackled, shoving the cash into his pocket. Something slipped out and bounced off the floor.
The lizard squinted.
A coin? Pendant?
Just then, a rough piece of metal stamped with crimson paint caught her eye. Sobble sprang into action, creeping down the pipe.
<No shit. They have to train harder if they're to earn their meals. I don't like freeloaders,> Walter brushed him off. <Besides. Your precious contact did a number on them.>
Sobble crept behind the two, barely a shadow. Her fingers closed on the iron chip. A token marked red R. She snatched it up, retreating to the door. Too many of them. Too few of her. She couldn't right the wrong. But maybe she could find someone strong enough to try.
<He knew his stuff. That's why I miss him,> the sailor said. He didn't notice. <His lizard knocked them out cold before they knew what hit them.>
Opal squeezed her eyes shut in shame. She didn't know. He told her to. Because some little friends were apt to harm.
Excuses.
She ran, hands shaking as she scaled the old drains. Perhaps to find help, perhaps to flee from crushing guilt. Her grip tightened until her knuckles burned, the iron token all she had left to hold onto.
She ran away, scaling the old drains. A flash of light in the musty windows struck her blind just as her hand reached for the sill. The sounds faded. The chatter turned into a distant hum, signaling she'd left that world behind.
Inteleon winced in her sleep. Her golden eyes popped open, staring at the screen of a transmitter perched by the filthy mattress. She pushed herself off the ground. So sudden that the whole room went quiet.
Opal sprang up so frantically that her head slammed into the ceiling as she straightened up, sending a sheaf of dust sprinkling down on the floor. Her hand rubbed the scales with a groan.
"Is everything okay?" A piece of bark slipped out of Jasper's paws.
Inteleon blinked, looking over the shelter in drowsy stupor.
Flint and Agate stirred up, disturbed by her abrupt awakening. The rest... Weren't there.
"Been better," she huffed, dusting herself off.
"Bad dreams?" Floragato asked, picking up his unfinished project and wiping the dirt off the carving.
Opal didn't answer. Deflecting. "Where's everyone?"
He sighed, setting the art piece aside. "Left to scout ahead. Mae wanted us to look over the wounded."
"Naturally." Inteleon lowered herself back onto the filthy mattress. Her restless eyes drilled the tattoo. She drowned back into her thoughts.
The feline sniffed a potion, his expression twisting into a grossed-out scowl. He bit the cork off, paws awkwardly hoggling the flask. A pulverizer bottle wasn't exactly made for someone lacking thumbs.
"Stupid..." The cat hissed at the frustrating tool, struggling to push the button. With limited success.
A stream of liquid hit him straight in the face before he could readjust the aim. Floragato gagged, letting out a miserable cough. His eyes watered, tears streaming down his face. "Ugh..."
After a few failed attempts, it finally found the target, pointing at the hare's knee. The bones crunched, squeezing a yelp out of her. As if the two ends of a fracture moved back into place. Her fingers grabbed onto the mattress. One quarter of a potion wasn't enough to mend the damage. But it was a start.
"There. Better," Jasper moved onto Meowth.
The cut, splitting Flint's face from top to bottom, closed up, leaving a glistening red line. The eye, however, fared much worse. A mere touch of potion turned the gray tint a little whiter. The wound was closing. But at what cost?
Floragato let out a shaky sigh, watching the mauled feline curl into a wretched ball to get some rest.
The silence fell again. Only the sound of the transmitter's screen filled the void around with a faint hum of rustling static.
"Opal?" Jasper looked around to make sure they were alone.
"Petals?" She idly replied, tearing her eyes off the mark. As if the act of looking in itself was some sort of a sign of weakness.
"Can I ask you something?" Floragato's question made her crest wince.
"I don't know. Can you?" Inteleon bounced back. Her fingers quietly squeezed up. Her posture stiffened.
"I always wondered..." His words made her tense up harder.
She turned around. Something stirred up in her painfully impartial eyes. A tinge of dread. It came unnoticed. It always did. Her brow creased higher. "About?"
"About Mal," the cat confessed.
Inteleon's rigid form eased, if only for a heartbeat. The relief never lasted. She knew he'd find out. Some day.
"You know, it's... Something I was afraid to ask. I'd talk to our bunny. But it's really hard for him," Jasper whispered, inching a little closer. "I wonder what the team was like before I came along."
Opal didn't reply.
"I... Really want to help him. But I don't know how. Until I hear the story," the feline quietly pressed on. "We're friends. We lived together for more than half a decade."
Her eyes drifted off. Towards his brand. Then back at him. She folded. "I hear you."
"So..." Floragato nervously clenched his paws, fiddling with the vine.
"Sticks. Mal. He was the first of us. Our oldest," Opal finally divulged. "He found our soon-to-be calamity wandering the woods alone. Somewhere in Dappled Grove."
"Our Raboot grew up wild?" Jasper's eyes blinked. "How come I didn't know?"
"Grew up? Hardly. He was a kit, too young to fend for himself. The campfire drew him in. Because he must have thought that burning coals meant it was safe," she explained. "And for a while, it was the two of them. Thick as thieves."
Opal paused. For just a moment. Her eyes traced the brand again. It kept her talking. A sore, nagging wound that'll never put the ghosts to rest. A living, walking, breathing shadow of the past.
"That hits close to home," Floragato tittered, anxiously licking his paws to straighten up the lazy flocks of fur.
"That was before my time with the team. I joined years later. But I've known both for long enough before one didn't make it home." Inteleon kicked back, blankly staring at the empty screen and watching the waves dance across it.
"What... What happened?" Jasper's ears perked up.
"I wasn't there. Flames came running back, a weeping mess. The story changed each time he told it." Opal swiped her crest. "A dragon coming from the clouds. A whole pack of wilds hounding them. The more, the merrier. Enough heroics to make a bard with poor standards blush."
She shared a shrug.
"And yet the truth that hid between the words has always stayed the same. One ran. One stayed. End of story," Opal concluded.
"He still blames himself for it... Doesn't he?" The feline's eyes filled with lead.
"Go figure. He's never been the same. Like seeking death will somehow right the wrong." Inteleon tore her gaze away. "Atoning for the only reasonable thing he could have done."
"You really think so?" Jasper stuttered. "I... Didn't expect you to say this. Of all Pokémon."
"If he'd chosen to stay, I would have had to help our trainer bury two instead of one." Her answer made a shiver run down Floragato's spine. "Did you expect a clueless kit to win a fight? Or did you expect me to scold him for surviving?"
"No. No, it's just..." A heavy sigh escaped the cat. "You aren't really..."
He struggled to pick the right word for it.
Opal's brow arched.
"Never mind. You're right," the feline conceded. "But guilt is not an easy thing to reason with."
Inteleon went silent. The pause stretched out longer than it should have.
"I suppose." Her answer barely drifted out. Jasper didn't notice the crack in her voice.
Floragato lowered himself back, struck by another fit of nausea. "We keep on running from ourselves. But we can't outrun the past. No matter how hard we try."
Opal did not reply. The words cut deeper than intended. The silence fell again.
***
The forest path narrowed into a tunnel of black cedar and old twisted oak. The rain wouldn't stop, slipping between the branches and drumming against the frigid, muddy ground. A flash of gray and orange fur moved silently amidst the trees.
Raboot stopped on a mossy rock to look around. Every trail seemed alike. Every grove, every meadow, every swamp they passed. He let out a sigh, his half-lidded eyes staring at the wall of dark gray clouds above in quiet annoyance.
<Alrighty,> Mae paused behind him, her Helioptile circling around. <Don't go cruising for a bruising. We'll make sure the ridge ahead is clear and head back to the camp.>
Raboot flicked one ear back without bothering to face her. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
He hopped off a rock and plunged into the undergrowth with a splash, paws shoved deep in pocket. The little bear galloped after, skidding over the wet stones.
"And THEN!" the child proudly proclaimed, nearly tripping over a sprawled root. "I grabbed the Beedrill nest and swung it so hard it exploded!"
Raboot shot a glance at him. Amber bloomed with infantile enthusiasm; the only saving grace that made the rain feel a little less infuriating.
The bear marched beside him with his chest puffed up to impossible proportions. "There were like... Ten Beedrill! No, two dozen of them!"
<Keep up, team!> Mae pepped up. Her hand reached out to scratch the bunny's head. But he shied away from an unfamiliar scent invading his space. His gray fur bristled.
Garnet snorted through his nose, quickening his face. His posture stiffened. "Uh-Huh. And I bet you punched every single one."
"I DID!" the child valiantly squeaked. "One flew at me! It went like WOOSH! But I wasn't scared! So I went BAM!"
He punched and clawed at the air, getting so carried away that he stumbled over each and every bump, nearly losing balance. "But THEN! They closed around me! Three dozen!"
<Whew.> Behind them, Mae pushed through a bush with an exhausted grunt. <Turn it down, hip. The sound travels far.>
Raboot's ear twitched in quiet irritation. He didn't turn, ignoring her.
"I thought you said two dozen," the bunny pulled a grin, barely holding back a fit of laughter.
Teddiursa froze mid-step. His face scrunched into concentration. "They... They called for help! They got some rainfurcements!"
Garnet barked out a laugh before he could stop himself. "Rainfurcements? How devious of them."
The little bear beamed, convinced he'd just said something astonishingly clever. "Yeah! And then there was this REALLY big one!"
Raboot stepped over a broken cedar trunk. "Lemme guess. As big as Snorlax?"
"Bigger!" the child yelped. "It had a pair of red eyes and extra stingers, too! Its wings went FWOOSH!"
Amber spun his arms so wildly as he spoke, his paws smacking his grown-up friend.
Garnet bit the inside of his cheek to hold a cackle back. "Sounds terrifying."
"I didn't care! I climbed a tree and jumped right on its back! HYAAAH!" The bear scaled a rock to demonstrate. But his foot slipped on the dew.
"Whoa-" The kid pinwheeled straight past Raboot and vanished muzzle-first into a muddy puddle. A loud splash ended his heroic tale prematurely.
Mae stopped behind them. Her Helioptile raised his brow.
Silence.
Teddiursa slowly pushed himself out, a leaf glued to his face. "That... Uh..."
"It's all Beedrill conspiring against you." The bunny stretched his paw, helping him get back up.
"YOU'RE SO RIGHT!" The child clutched the excuse like a lifeline. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"You let your guard down," Raboot chortled.
The bear gasped in response, frantically looking around.
<Come on, team. Burn rubber,> Mae chimed in. Her cheer sounded unlike herself. As if she tried to copy someone more familiar. <We got this.>
"Pfft..." Garnet rolled his eyes as he took off.
"Ohhh..." Teddiursa leaned a little closer. "You don't like her?"
Raboot shoved through a fern patch harder than he had to. "I didn't say that."
"You made the face!" the child giggled.
"What face?" He quickened up, refusing to look back.
"The grumpy face!" Amber tittered with amusement.
"That's just my face," the bunny groaned.
"Oh! You DO dislike her then!" Teddiursa smirked, still shadowing his friend. Smart little rascal.
<Stay sharp, you two,> Mae glanced over at them as they chittered.
"Oh, shut UP!" Raboot's eyes twitched. "You aren't my trainer. Get back to fiddling with radios."
The bear froze. His eyes peeped at the bunny, then at the human, walking past him. And for a second, the child's expression turned completely mortified.
But Mae did not react. The only one who did was Helioptile, glaring daggers at him.
"Sometimes I wish she'd understand me," Garnet scoffed.
"What did she do?" The kid caught up, his tiny paws slapping across the puddles.
"What didn't she do? Drag on this stupid island, get herself trapped, and let our trainer walk into a death trap all alone," The bunny vented. "And now she's acting like she's the one in charge?"
Teddiursa curiously rubbed his chin.
"She's friends with Mom and owns ONE Poké Ball. That somehow makes her qualified to tell me what to do. Ridiculous," Raboot groaned. His eyes met with Helioptile, still staring him down. "What are you looking at?"
Citrine's frills twitched. The lizard squinted with enough venom in his eyes to curdle milk.
Raboot glared back. "Must have been cozy staying home while we struggled to survive, huh?"
Helioptile jabbed his claw at Mae, then pointed at Garnet. His grabber did a circling motion like he was winding up a punch.
"Ohhh," Teddiursa whispered. "He's mad."
"Sounds like his problem." Raboot shoved his paws into his pocket. "He has done nothing since we came here. Save for shoulder cruising."
An arc of static ran through Citrine's fingers. His frills drooped.
"Prove me wrong," the bunny challenged.
Helioptile bobbed his head towards the radio, still clipped to his owner's belt.
"That was about the only thing you did to help. Because Mae asked you to." Garnet's expression turned painfully sour. Pent-up frustration spilled out like water through a broken dam. "You don't care about whose life is on the line. The only one you care about is Mae. Maybe that's why you never even bother to step up unless she asks."
The bunny stomped the ground and quickened up to take the lead. Amber dashed, his eyes full of concern.
The fog congealed. The meadow ended in a ridge that overlooked the valley down below. Or it would have if not for all the mist. Another set of ancient ruins, this time little more than piles of rocks where the standing stones once were. Long-looted and destroyed by time.
"I hate it. I hate being treated like a bunch of stupid kids. I hate that we're keeping secrets from each other." Smoke coiled out of Raboot's nose. His fists clenched at his sides. "After fighting for my life and getting them out of trouble, I'm still not good enough to know what's going on behind the scenes."
<Don't go too far.> Mae's ignorance poked right at the hornet's nest. As if the only one who heard him was the kid. <Stick close to me.>
"Let's play a game of getting out of my face. You go first," the bunny seethed. "We've survived without you just fine. I don't need advice."
<Garnet?> the blonde finally picked up. <You doing okay, chum?>
"No?" He turned around, stomping his foot into the ground again. A dead giveaway. His ears angled forward, brows furrowed in frustration.
<Someone's moody today,> she chuckled.
"Yikes, I wonder why," Raboot croaked.
<You're having a tough day?> Her hand slipped into her pocket, crumpling a piece of plastic hidden tucked within.
The bunny's nose twitched. He crossed his arms, watching her through squinted eyes.
<Here. Maybe this will help.> She tossed him a snack.
Garnet didn't react. Just stood there as the crunchy Pokémon treat bounced off his snout and dropped onto the ground. He looked at it. And then at Mae. His face twisted into an offended grimace, deeply hurt.
"What am I, a pet?" Another stomp, leaves flying. "You think tossing food wins me over?"
Helioptile shrugged, dexterously slithering off his owner's shoulder and happily eating the snack off the crumpled grass.
Raboot watched him in revulsion. "Suck-up."
Teddiursa pulled a pair of puppy eyes, staring at Mae. "What about me?"
"Oh, COME ON!" Garnet huffed, storming off along the ridge.
The bunny walked as far as the bluff went, trampling across the broken pavement. The only thing that had survived the passage of untold decades was a rough, half-wrecked statue, the sole witness to the ages. Sylveon with ears and ribbons broken off, its bows and tail destroyed. The vulpine stared past them. Quiet. Solemn.
<Hey.> The blonde caught up with him, quickening her pace. Her hand tapped on his shoulder.
Garnet flinched. He pushed it off and spun around, seething. "Don't touch me."
<What's going on?> She wouldn't let it go.
"You are." Another cloud of smoke escaped his nose. His shoulders bumped into the old monument. He looked like a cornered prey about to throw a fit.
<You're mad at me?> It took her quite a while to find out.
"No shit." His ears twitched.
<I'm sorry, hip. I wish I knew how to communicate.> Mae let out a sigh.
"You aren't a trainer. You don't know jackshit." He motioned her to back away and give him space. She didn't understand the gesture. "This is annoying."
The blonde blinked at him. Not offended. Just slightly caught off guard, the way humans always are when something clicks three conversations later than it should have.
<I'm doing my best here, buddy,> Mae tried again.
"That's the problem," Garnet sighed, his back pressed against the statue, his fingers gripping at its edge. He stiffened like a hedgehog as she reached out again, invading boundaries. "Quit trying. Hands off. Get away from me."
For her, it all sounded like a string of rough chirps and melodic trills. Her shoulders sagged. And somehow, that only made things worse.
"See?" The bunny spat, ears flat. "You don't even know what I'm saying. You can't read body language. You keep on guessing. And talking down to us like we're kids. Or pets. Or both."
"She's talking?" The little bear gasped. It only hit him now that she was saying something. The sounds she made didn't click.
Mae paused, trying to read his posture. <You're stressed, huh?>
"Ohhh, this is so bad," Teddiursa giggled in fascinated horror of someone watching a cart run downhill without brakes.
"I AM stressed," Raboot snapped. "We've almost died six times in a row."
<Okay, yeah. You're upset.> The blonde's conclusion made the bunny slap his paw into his face. <Did I do something wrong?>
Garnet stared at her in disbelief. Then pointed dramatically at everything around them.
"The island? The monsters? This stupid expedition? Dragging us all the way across the sea without a plan? Getting yourself trapped? Letting our trainer wander off?" He threw both paws up. "Ringing any bells? What haven't you done wrong?"
The group followed his gesture. Their eyes moved off the ruins. A faint crunch of stones went unheard.
The only thing that Mae caught up in was an increasingly heated string of chirps. <I'll take it as a yes.>
"Great..." A drained groan escaped Raboot. His ears drooped. His eyes lost focus as he tried to prop himself up against the rocks, only to stumble into thin air. He barely noticed, still lost in frustration. "Took you long enough."
"Maybe, uh..." Amber chimed in. "Maybe you can speak in simple words?"
"That's not how it works, bud," The bunny waved her off. "You know what, forget it. Let's just-"
Raboot went silent in an instant. The statue that had been there was gone. Only the empty effigy remained.
"What in the-"
"Oh-oh," the child whimpered.
"Wasn't there-"
"We need to go." He grabbed the bunny's paw.
"What's going on?" Garnet huffed.
The child didn't explain. He tugged his friend away, eyes searching for the missing statue. "We need to go back now."
They skittered off through protests and confusion. Behind them, concealed between the trees, stone scraped against cold stone. And from the mist-chocked dark came the sound of thuds. A string of heavy footsteps rang where no one should have been. Where heroes... Fear to tread.
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