The Gardevoir's Wish
- Pronouns
- she/her
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The Gardevoir's Wish
One-shot / 5.6k words / Rated T for language and mild crudeness
One-shot / 5.6k words / Rated T for language and mild crudeness
anything goes. grammar and flow suggestions are great. let me know what jokes work and what don't. if you have an idea for how to make the ending dumber, let me know. line reactions are great too. please be judicious about including large image-reactions in your review.
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South of Fallarbor and about fifty miles east of Meteor Falls there is a clearing in the deepwild, and in that clearing stands a single inn several days’ hike from any other human habitation. The woods around it are home to dangerous pokémon, and there are no nicely or even crudely carved routes to follow through the forest. Still, despite its remote location, on an ordinary year no fewer than a dozen humans make pilgrimages to this clearing and rest their heads within the inn’s doors to make their bid to the Wishmaker.
The legend goes that the Wishmaker spends one thousand years slumbering, and in its dreams it hears all the souls of the world crying out their deepest heart-desires. When it wakes, it will remember only the purest wish it heard, and it will grant that wish—then it will fall back into slumber for a thousand years, and so on for all time.
Few remain who seriously consider the legend of the Wishmaker, so in ordinary times it is generally only the exceptionally wealthy and the exceptionally desperate who make the trek to that clearing in the woods to make their bids to the almighty Wishmaker. What stands at the center of the clearing now is a mountain of paper slips, wishes scrawled on their faces, the oldest of them nearly a thousand years old, in various stages of decomposition. And at its core, the Wishmaker itself is said to sleep.
But as the millennium approaches, the trickle of pilgrims becomes a deluge, and the sleepy inn becomes a bustling hub of activity. The Millennium Festival, when the Jirachi comet streaks across the sky and heralds the waking of the Wishmaker, is a major event, and in the five years preceding it the inn hires as many hands as it can.
So it came to be that Xi the gardevoir spent five years of his life in the secluded clearing. Neither Xi nor his trainer, Suyin, believed in the Wishmaker legend at first, but the money was good and the work offered a welcome break from Suyin’s less than successful gym challenge. Suyin is a brilliant trainer, mind you, and Xi considers himself a competent battler—but a gym challenge is not won with a single ace, and the abilities of Suyin’s other team member (a slowbro named Xiaohui) leave something to be desired.
On the morning before the Millenium Festival, Xi wakes to the smell of smoke. Suyin is already sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes blearily and holding back a yawn. “Good morning, Xi,” she croaks. “Good morning, Xiaohui.”
Xi gives his trainer a gentle psychic nudge in response, a gesture that his trainer would recognize as a cheery greeting. Xiaohui simply lets out a loud, rasping groan. Their trainer smiles softly—mostly at Xi, he hopes. He feels a slightly different texture to the walls of her mindscape than usual. A little less guarded, a little less cynical, a little less detached.
“Do you guys have a wish?” she asks.
In all their time here, Suyin has never asked that question. But Xi thinks he understands why she would ask it now; there is indeed something different about today.
He can tell from the particle-thoughts springing from the edges of Suyin’s mindscape that, for the first time since arriving here, she’s allowing herself to accept the feeling of childlike joy that comes with believing, genuinely, that magic is real and alive in the world.
The feeling is infectious. Today, the air is heavy with the smells of smoke and incense, and there’s a quiet reverent feeling settled over the usually raucous inn. It’s easy to offer yourself to the comforting embrace of the gravitas, to allow yourself to become subsumed by it.
“A wish...,” Xiaohui repeats, tapping her chin thoughtfully with a fat hand. As a fellow psychic, Xi can (unfortunately) understand the slowbro’s speech—but Suyin can’t. Still, the trainer cocks her head, dark brown eyes wide with anticipation for the rest of Xiaohui’s answer that she won’t understand.
Xi wishes he had spoken up first. Suyin should be looking at him this way, not that pink oaf. What’s worse, Xiaohui is capable of verbal telepathy, something Xi isn’t—if she wished it, the slowbro could make herself perfectly understood by Suyin. But she doesn’t, because it “feels weird.” She doesn’t deserve her power, and she certainly doesn’t deserve Suyin’s adoration.
“Hmmm,” the slowbro continues. She looks deep in thought. Xi doubts she will answer any time soon. He knows just what to say, though, and says it:
“What about you, Suyin? Do you have a wish?” He punctuates the question with an inquisitive psychic prod. Suyin can’t understand Xi’s speech either, but she can get the gist from his psychic nudges.
“Me?” Suyin says. “Hmm... Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it. It probably won’t surprise you, but... my wish is for Mom to get better.” She smiles again, bittersweet this time.
“That’s a pure and lovely wish,” Xi says, and he gives Suyin a psychic caress, something like a brain-hug.
The corners of Suyin’s eyes lift a little. “You think it’s a good one? Yeah. I don’t know. I thought it might be pure. It probably won’t come true, I’m just some kid. But...”
She looks away bashfully, and at that moment Xi’s wish crystallizes. He wishes... for Suyin’s wish to come true. He doesn’t know how to communicate this to her except to give her a serious, urging look.
“Oh, I thought of a wish,” Xiaohui says at last. “Remember those burgers we got in Mauville?”
“Seriously?” Xi snaps. “A cheeseburger? That’s your wish?”
“Mmmm... Cheeseburger...”
Xi buries his head in his hands. Suyin deserves a better team than this. Xi can only drag so much deadweight.
“Cut it out, you two,” Suyin says with a chuckle. “Come on. Last day of work before the big day. And then... home, I guess! Let’s make it count, yeah?”
Xi nods and hovers gingerly a few inches above the ground, the edges of his dress kissing the hardwood. There’s a melancholy look to his trainer, and he thinks he knows what she’s thinking.
What happens when the Millenium Festival is over?
Do they resume their gym challenge? Unlikely. Suyin’s mother is so unwell, and the gym challenge wasn’t going well anyway. She’ll probably have to return home and face the music. Tomorrow is the last day that their reality is suspended—once the Jirachi comet crosses the sky, this dreamlike respite from society will come to a close, and the pains and anxieties of everyday life will resume. Suyin will probably give up the gym challenge for good, get a job, move on... and what will become of Xi?
His chest suddenly feels hollow. Life without his trainer, without Suyin... He can’t even imagine such a terrible thing. He would be nothing. Nothing.
But there’s another way.
One more day. One more day to do everything he can to make Suyin’s wish come true. If her mother becomes healthy, she can resume her gym challenge, and Xi will take her all the way to the league. They can live this way forever, if only that wish is granted.
Suyin has to be the one the Wishmaker chooses, has to be.
At any cost.
Xi usually spends the quiet hours between breakfast and lunch rush cleaning dishes and straightening the bar. This morning, however, he had plenty of time to consider the logistics of the Wishmaker’s granting, and he arrived at several important conclusions. Most importantly of all, he devised a plan. Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of any way around relying on Xiaohui’s telepathy—so today, instead of cleaning dishes as usual, Xi uses his downtime to pull Xiaohui aside into a storage closet and give her the rundown.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I have pulled you aside today,” Xi says, standing with his back straight. Xiaohui is looking at him with one eye and seemingly staring at a barrel of grain with the other. She gives no response. “Well, as Suyin’s pokémon, I think it’s in our best interest to ensure her wish is granted by the Wishmaker. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Um... Well, I guess I feel like it’s in my best interest that my own wish is granted, and Suyin’s is maybe second place. Right?”
Xi rolls his eyes. “Forget about your stupid cheeseburger! The point is that it’s a pure and selfless wish, Xiaohui. If that’s your attitude then you can hardly be shocked when your idiotic wish isn’t granted. Besides, consider this: what will happen to you if Suyin’s wish isn’t granted? She’ll quit training and sell you off to some horrible person, probably. Is that what you want?”
“Oh. No, I don’t want that. I guess my wish can be Suyin’s wish, then.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Xiaohui,” Xi says. It’s like pulling teeth with this mon sometimes. “Now. By both wishing for Suyin’s wish, we have effectively tripled her odds of selection. This is good, but not enough; we can do more than sit idly by and pray that she is chosen. I’ve been doing some thinking and I think I’ve determined roughly how the selection works.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Listen closely now. First off, I think we can assume that proximity has something to do with the selection. Otherwise, what would be the point of coming all this way to write your wish?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Now the second part, and this is critical, is that the wish must be pure. So the legend goes. But what does that mean? Well, the wish can’t be self-serving. But if this was the only criterion, then the wish each year would be something like world peace or the abolition of hunger. And, well, you can look around, Xiaohui—does it seem to you that world peace has ever been achieved, or hunger abolished?”
“Uh... no?”
“No. So these wishes, even though they’re pure, don’t count. Which means that immediacy to the wisher’s life must be a criterion. Now, records are a bit scant, but I’ve managed to recover information about the last three wishes that were granted. One granted a large yield for a fishing village; one ended the five-year drought in Verdanturf; and the most recent, one thousand years ago, cured the wisher’s daughter’s skin disorder. Now, two cure-wishes back-to-back may be asking for a bit much, but I don’t think it’s impossible...”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well. Here is where things get a bit complicated. The Wishmaker is not omniscient. But it can’t be easily tricked either. The legend says it reads heart-desires —that is, you can’t just make any old wish. It really has to be your deepest desire. By the way, that means that Suyin’s wish had better be your actual deepest desire, and you’d better not just be saying that to appease me.”
“It’s my wish now, I told you.”
“Very good. Anyway, the Wishmaker can identify the heart-desire correctly. But as I said, it isn’t omniscient. So it’s possible to hold a heart-desire for both selfish and selfless reasons. And if the selfish reasons are sufficiently obscured, the Wishmaker might perceive the wish as pure. For example, say you wish to cure someone of illness, and you do genuinely want that, but most of all you crave the recognition that comes with having been selected as pure-hearted by the Wishmaker. If the Wishmaker understood this secret selfish desire, it wouldn’t grant the wish, but otherwise it might... You understand?”
“Okay... I think I understand. So are you hoping that you will fool the Wishmaker since you think your wish is for Suyin but actually it’s just because you want her to like you more?”
“What,” Xi says. Xiaohui cocks her head curiously. Her words were dripping in venom, or at least Xi thought, but there’s absolutely nothing behind those eyes. “You are being outrageous, but for both of our sakes, I can pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” Xiaohui says.
“What I’m saying,” Xi says through gritted teeth, “is that we know that Suyin’s wish is the purest—but the Wishmaker doesn’t know this, not yet, not for sure. It may be fooled by some other wishes. So what we need to do is find those wishes and reveal how they’re are selfishly motivated in order to disqualify them. And that’s where you come in. I can read the minds of the inn patrons to determine whose wishes are most likely to be granted by my measure. And you will use this information to compromise them, planting insecurities in their minds and forcing them to reveal their own selfish tendencies. I can help you with this. The Wishmaker will take note, and Suyin will be the only good choice remaining within a reasonable proximity.”
Xiaohui nods along for a moment, stroking her chin in thought. “Hmm. Okay. Well, I have two questions. First of all, do I have to? I don’t really like talking with my mind, it feels... weird.”
Xi pinches between his eyes and sighs. “Yes, Xiaohui. I need you to—no, Suyin needs you to do this. And it’s for you too, remember? Do you want to be sold to some horrible man?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Okay, I’ll do it. Alright, second question: if it matters how close they are to the Wishmaker, why don’t you just teleport them away?”
“Because—,” Xi begins, but he trails off. He actually hadn’t thought of that. He becomes angry. “Because that’s messed up. Plus, I already spent too long thinking of this plan, so we have to do it.”
“Oh, okay. Well, that sounds good. Just let me know what to say and who to say it and I’ll do it.”
“Very good, Xiaohui,” Xi says. That went better than expected, all things considered. “I will be in contact with you shortly, then.”
He opens the storage closet door and walks out, then holds it open for Xiaohui, but the slowbro doesn’t budge.
“Are you coming, Xiaohui?”
“Nah, I’m good in here. See you later, right?”
“Er... Yes. See you later, Xiaohui.”
Strange mon. Xi rolls his shoulders and floats back toward the tavern with a purpose.
He’s got wishes to find.
The chaos of the lunch rush proved an excellent opportunity for Xi to get a good scan of each patron’s mind. Most of the patrons held pure wishes on the surface, but when Xi dug deeper, he found their heart-desires tended to run more selfish, as expected. Mostly they were mundane: “I wish for a good report card,” “I wish to become the Champion of the Hoenn League,” “I wish for a Salamence.”
All in all, Xi identified only two serious opponents to Suyin: one a young trainer wishing for the health of his sick pokémon; and one an older man wishing for his village to reap a bountiful harvest. Two classic wishes, each of them granted within the last several thousand years—nothing to shake a stick at.
Xi decided it would be best to carry out the plan at dinner, in order to maximize the number of witnesses. He figured the more witnesses there were, the more psychic bandwidth the incidents would occupy, and therefore the greater the chance would be that the Wishmaker would take note.
He spends the hours leading up to dinnertime biding his time anxiously, polishing and repolishing the crockery. Just as the first patrons begin to roll in, he’s surprised to find Suyin jogging into the room a few hours earlier than usual, her hair tied up into a messy bun, sleeves rolled up, chest heaving.
“Xi!” she exclaims. “You’ve gotta look outside, it’s super cool. C’mon.”
Xi follows his trainer outside, dress flapping behind him as he passes into the muggy evening air. He’s amazed to find the sky is a deep crimson and filled with ash that floats so tranquilly you might mistake it for so many flower petals. It’s quiet except for the twittering of taillow, and the scent of smoke is overpowering; he coughs into his elbow as he takes in the sights.
“The ash must be from the wish slips burning up as the Wishmaker begins to wake,” Suyin says. “It’s... breathtaking.”
Xi has to agree. If nothing else, it’s proof that the Wishmaker, that all of this, is real.
An old man emerges from the inn and stands by Suyin’s side. He nods his head slowly and crosses his arms as he looks into the blood-red sky. It’s the same old man wishing for a good harvest.
Xi tries not to glare at him, but he doesn’t like how close he’s standing to his trainer. The man wants his wish, and to get it, Suyin can’t have hers. So they’re enemies. And yet he stands so close.
Well, it’s no matter. Xi flies through the old man’s mind, grasping at every insecurity and mentally logging them away for later.
Yes, stand as close as you like. You will be broken soon.
“Once every thousand years...,” the old man croaks. “Truly, we are blessed to live at such a special time. Blessed indeed.”
Suyin smiles. “I know that whatever happens tomorrow, the world will be a better place for it. I wish you good luck, whatever your wish is,” she says to the old man.
He chuckles. “And to you, young lady. All I hope for is a good harvest for my village. It’s been hard times lately, and we desperately need a change in luck, so the townspeople pooled all they had to send me here and make my case to the Wishmaker. If you don’t mind me asking, what is your wish?”
“Oh,” Suyin says, suddenly nervous, tucking hair behind her ear. “Well, it’s just a small thing. I’m just wishing for my mother to be healed from her illness.”
“Well, that’s a mighty fine wish,” the old man says. And light returns to Suyin’s face.
“Really? Well, thanks. I hope the Wishmaker thinks so too.”
The old man smiles back, and the two humans look into the sky together.
Xi has seen enough. He floats back inside and begins preparing for dinner. What a dinner it will be.
“What? I really have to say that?”
“Yes.”
Xi is glowering at the old man from behind the bar. The energy at the inn tonight is nervous as it’s ever been, but the old man is sitting there taking hearty sips from his mug and licking seasoning off his fingers without a care in the world. That’s the look of confidence. Confidence in stealing Suyin’s wish from her. Well, Xi would see about that.
“Say, how do you know all this stuff about him anyway?” Xiaohui asks. She’s peeking over the bar, just shorter than it, and twiddling with her pudgy little fingers anxiously. “Are you making it up? It seems a little mean.”
“No,” Xi says. “I read his mind. It has to be true, otherwise it wouldn’t work. Now say it to him already, quit wasting time.”
“Um... Okay...”
Xiaohui slouches into a sitting position and screws her eyes shut, grunting and palming at her forehead. The old man straightens his back a little, and his eyes widen just a touch. It’s everything Xi has to fight back a smile.
It’s working.
“Keep going,” he urges.
“What do I say now?” Xiaohui asks, visibly strained from psychic exertion.
“‘You are a bad person,’” Xi recites with relish. “‘You are a terrible person who doesn’t deserve to be recognized for your wish. You deserve nothing you have. Everything you do is a terrible sin. You are a blemish upon the earth. The only thing you can do to recover even a scrap of dignity is pour out your soul right now, admit your shortcomings to these inn patrons who you have wronged, and beg for their forgiveness.’”
Xiaohui stares back at Xi with dinner-plate eyes. “Uh... Wow. Okay. That’s a lot. Maybe say it a little slower, telepathy is slower than speech, so...”
Xi sighs and repeats the script back slower. It’s a pain, but worth it for the result—Xi’s plan is definitely working so far, if the way the old man’s posture is deflating and face darkening is any indication.
The old man rises from his seat abruptly, silverware clattering as his big gut shoves the table a few inches out of the way. His face is tight, forehead wrinkled. All eyes are on him, but he doesn’t say anything. The scraping of plates and silverware subsides and the inn falls silent in anticipation of his words, but they don’t come.
“What do I say now?” Xiaohui squeaks out.
“Use your imagination,” Xi says, too engrossed by the petrified man to think. “Just riff a little.”
Xiaohui harrumphs and sits back down, massaging her forehead. After just a few seconds, the old man breaks.
“I have a confession to make,” he says, audibly haunted. “My village sent me here to request a bountiful harvest from the Wishmaker. That’s true. But I had my own reasons for coming. My wife doesn’t see me the same way anymore. I’ve grown old. Age has turned me creaky and leathery and fat in ways that repulse her. I’m like dirt to her now. I’d hoped that coming here, I might... I might find someone else. Someone who sees me as a person, who makes me feel loved again. And... every laugh, every smile I’ve gotten from someone here, I’ve felt myself clinging to it so tightly. I just wanted someone to look at me kindly, and so many of you have. But it’s left me wanting more. It’s like I thought I was just peckish, but being here has made me realize that I’m actually starving. Starving for affection. Desperate. And I hate that part of me. I hate what this has turned me into. I feel like I’ve lost a part of myself, or finally accepted that a part of myself was lost a long time ago. I... have not been the man I want to be. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry to my wife, and I’m sorry to all of you. I’m so sorry.”
He begins to sob and just stands there doing that for a while. Uneasy murmurs break out among the audience but no one says anything to the man, and eventually they cautiously resume their eating, and the old man just stands there all the time, sobbing, a statue of defeat and melancholy in the corner of the room.
Xi smiles and rubs his hands together. Yes, all according to plan. No chance that man will be receiving his wish now. “Excellent work, Xiaohui. Just one more to go.”
“Um... Look, I’m not sure I can do that again. That was pretty fucked up. I feel gross.”
Xi shoots the slowbro a glare. “Don’t be a fool. You didn’t force that man to do anything but admit to something he had done himself. Really it’s best everyone knows. What if he had actually taken advantage of someone? We’ve done the inn a great favor. And now you will do it another one.”
He fixes his gaze on the last target. He’s a slight thing, dressed in baggy clothes, sallow with thick black hair that covers his eyes. “You see that one? With the long black hair? Yes. I need you to speak to him. Say this: ‘You are a coward. You came here under the pretenses of seeking help, but really you’re just running away again. If your pokémon doesn’t recover, it won’t be your fault, but the Wishmaker’s for not choosing you. That’s what you’re telling yourself. And it’s a lie. You’re responsible. You were always responsible. And run all you like, for you will never outrun the guilt.’”
Xiaohui looks distraught, but she doesn’t protest this time. Xi’s heart flutters with delight as the young trainer begins to react to the words in his head, mouth twitching downward, shoulders tensing. Then he stands, too. Xi can hardly wait. His goal has almost been realized.
“Attention, everyone,” he says. His voice is gentle but loud, a quiet assuredness that doesn’t at all match the emotional state Xi was hoping to instill. “I believe there is a psychic in this room attempting to manipulate us. I think its tactics worked on that old man. Well, they won’t work on me. I have mastered the art of positive self-talk. Reveal yourself.”
Xi’s blood runs cold. Would it be too suspicious to duck below the counter now? Now he’s the one frozen in place. The young trainer brushes his hair out of his eyes as he surveys the room. Slowly, slowly, Xi forces himself to float toward the kitchen doorway, hoping to pull himself out of sight. If he were to be caught—
“This guy,” Xiaohui bellows, hopping up and waving her arms frantically at Xi. “It’s this guy right here! This guy is doing all this to you! It’s the gardevoir!”
“You idiot! You’ve ruined everything!” Xi seethes, taking Xiaohui by the shoulders and forcing her back under the bar. But it’s too late. The young trainer’s eyes are fixed on him now. Xiaohui is chuckling. Xi’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest; he feels like a pikachu has driven its electrified tail into his sternum.
“You! It’s you!” the trainer cries. “Everyone, chase this gardevoir out! It’s trying to steal the wish for itself!”
An angry clamor springs from the tavern, and too many guests rise from their seats, heads whipping to see where the young trainer is pointing: right at Xi.
Panicking, hyperventilating, Xi raises an arm and screams. The young trainer is surrounded by a field of black energy; then, with a slight pop, he disappears.
He didn’t want to have to teleport anyone. He really didn’t. But what else could he do? It’s all that stupid slowbro’s fault, that treacherous oaf. When Xi gets his hands on her, he swears he’ll—
“What the fuck? Did that gardevoir just kill that guy?”
The tavern is in an uproar now. They’re charging at Xi. There’s no way he can teleport them all. Xiaohui is still giggling obtusely as Xi pushes past him and rushes to the tavern exit. He has to get out of here.
He thinks of Suyin as he passes through the tavern’s entrance, dress drifting over ash-covered grass. What will Suyin do when she finds out? Where is she right now? She’ll understand. She has to understand. This was for her—it was all for her. Xi had been the best partner, he’d given everything, he’d—
There’s an explosion in the distance. Xi instinctively drops to the ground and braces himself for a shockwave, but none comes—at least not a physical one. But a streak of light like fire appears suddenly in the sky—the Jirachi comet—and with it a powerful psychic presence, like a blanket so heavy and suffocating Xi can hardly hear his own thoughts, can barely remember why he’s face down in the prickly grass.
He peeps one eye open and makes out a small figure floating a few dozen feet in front of him. White ribbons trail from the small body, doll-like face crowned with a golden five-pointed star. Its eyes are closed peacefully, as if asleep, but its belly bears a large eyeball the size of the figure’s head, black pupil on golden sclera. It stares right through Xi.
The Wishmaker has awoken... earlier than expected, by a hair.
There’s a sound behind Xi, and with great effort he cranes his neck to find that the mob behind him has all fallen to their knees in respect, heads bowed. The Wishmaker grumbles deeply at this, evidently pleased.
“I ᴀᴍ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇ,” it proclaims simply.
“Wishmaker,” Xi squeaks out, barely a whisper. He presses his forehead to the ground, trembling. His mind is dominated completely by the staticky ambience of the Wishmaker’s psychic field. It’s like being awake, somehow, through a dreamless sleep.
“Fᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀs I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sʟᴜᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ. I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀs, ᴀɴᴅ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇᴇᴅs.”
Deeds...
He knows that the Wishmaker is a peaceful god, but as he trembles on the ground, Xi finds himself praying that its white-hot judgment does not burn him away.
“Jɪᴀɴɢᴜᴏ. Hᴜᴍᴀɴ. Sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ.”
All the air leaves Xi’s lungs. He’s been passed over. And yet... he’s failed. It’s over.
He manages to pry his eyes upward and sees the old man, of all people, advancing. His calloused hands are shaking.
“Yᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪsʜ ʜᴀs ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪsʜ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ʙᴏᴜɴᴛᴇᴏᴜs ʜᴀʀᴠᴇsᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ... I sᴇᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ. I sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴡɪsʜ. Tʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇᴠᴏɪʀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇss ɪᴛ. Yᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. Aᴍ I ʀɪɢʜᴛ?”
Xi’s heart sticks in his throat. Me? His mind is too encumbered to process what’s going on. There’s a long silence before the old man grunts out a response, but Xi doesn’t catch it.
“Yᴇs. Tʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀsᴜɪᴛ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ... Iᴛ ʙʀɪɴɢs ᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴡɪsʜ. Bᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇᴠᴏɪʀ ɪs ᴀ ᴍᴀʟᴇ. I ғᴇᴇʟ ʏᴏᴜ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪs.”
“Oh,” the old man says, just audible over the rushing of blood in Xi’s ears. “That’s fine. I think I might swing both ways and I'm ready to explore that part of myself. I mean, if he’s down with it, you know?”
“Iɴᴅᴇᴇᴅ. Wᴇʟʟ... I ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇᴠᴏɪʀ's ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ɪᴛs ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ I sʜᴀʟʟ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ɪᴛs ᴡɪsʜ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇʜᴇsᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ... Xɪ. Gᴀʀᴅᴇᴠᴏɪʀ. Sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ.”
What? This old man’s wish was... Xi?
Confusion laced with dread, heavy-handed, seizes Xi and lifts him to his feet. The Wishmaker burns so bright that it’s painful to look at. Its true face looks so gentle, so tranquil, but its third eye seems to stare into his very soul.
What is it finding? How will it judge him?
“I ᴅɪᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ. Bᴜᴛ sᴏ ɪᴛ sʜᴀʟʟ ɢᴏ. I sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇsᴛ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ-ᴅᴇsɪʀᴇ ɪs... ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪsʜ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴀɪɴᴇʀ. Vᴇʀʏ ᴡᴇʟʟ. Sᴜʏɪɴ. Hᴜᴍᴀɴ. sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ.”
She does. She looks so delicate, bathed in the Wishmaker’s cleansing light. Only now does Xi realize his face is wet with tears. Suyin gives him an intense look that he can’t discern, then turns to the Wishmaker and kneels.
It’s happening. Her wish is being granted. Somehow... It’s happening.
“Sᴜʏɪɴ. Nᴏᴡ ᴡᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪsʜ. Aɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪsʜ ɪs... ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪsʜᴇs ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏᴋᴇ́ᴍᴏɴ. Wᴇʟʟ, ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ɢʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ.”
“Wait, what?” Xi gasps. “But that’s... that’s not the right wish. She wished for—”
“Tʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪsʜ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ʟɪᴇ,” the Wishmaker declares.
Suyin hangs her head. “It’s true. Realizing that boasting about my wish was attention-seeking behavior and therefore impure, I crafted a fake one in order to avert attention from my true heart-desire: the happiness of my pokémon. Xi, I’m so sorry you spent your wish on me.”
Xi doesn't have words. He can't move. His plan had been foiled, but his victory had been arbitrarily yanked from the clutches of oblivion anyway... and it had been for nothing? He's an idiot. An idiot. He could have wished for Suyin's mother to be healed directly—no, actually, he could have wished for anything at all. In this situation, the rules are bypassed, and even a selfish wish would have been granted. Instead he had made the most selfless wish of all, and for that, no one had received anything. He’d even convinced Xiaohui to do the same. He’d ruined everything.
“Xɪᴀᴏʜᴜɪ. Sʟᴏᴡʙʀᴏ. Sᴛᴇᴘ ғᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ. Yᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪsʜ... Aʜ, I sᴇᴇ ɪᴛ. Yᴇs, ᴛʜɪs I ᴄᴀɴ ɢʀᴀɴᴛ.”
It can...?
Xi’s head is spinning. Maybe Xiaohui had been the wise one, maybe she’d wished to heal Suyin’s mother explicitly, and it would all be fine—
The Wishmaker’s glow intensifies so much that Xi is forced to cover his eyes. For just a moment, his mind feels like it’s on fire.
And then it’s over.
The Wishmaker sinks a little, ribbons kissing the grass, and its light dims to a wan glow. The Jirachi comet dims with it, blurring out of view, and all that’s left is the crimson sky. Slowly, the Wishmaker’s third eye closes, the suffocating psychic field of its presence recedes, and its true eyes open: black and beady.
“Tᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ... Fᴏʀ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ... Aʜ...”
After just a second, the eyes are covered again by white lids, and Xi knows the Wishmaker has returned to slumber for another thousand years.
He feels numb. Xiaohui. He needs to find Xiaohui. There’s still that chance. He needs to know if she—
The grass crunches behind him. Xi turns his head to find the old man—Jianguo—shuffling forward. “So,” he says. “I’m sorry that your wish didn’t really pan out. But... okay, look. The Wishmaker kind of messed things up by getting ahead of me, and I didn’t mean for it to come out this way. But I think you’re really... handsome? Pretty? And I respect how hard you work. And I kinda did just give up a legendary wish for you. So I know it’s a little awkward, especially after my speech in the tavern, but I swear I’m actually a pretty normal guy under regular circumstances, haha. So I was wondering if you—”
Xi screams with everything he has, until he feels completely emptied out, and the old man disappears with a pop. Xi collapses to his knees. He hopes the old man lands in the fucking sea.
“Whoa. Someone's angry,” Xiaohui remarks, emerging from behind Suyin’s legs. “But hey, this wasn’t a total wash. This hotdog is... Well, actually, it’s not as good as I remembered it. But hey, at least we got something, right? What? Why are you looking at me like that, Xi? Want a bite?”
“A hotdog?” Xi sputters. “A fucking HOTDOG?” He laughs, but it's really more like a sob.
“Oh, yeah. Well, I wanted a cheeseburger at first, but I guess I changed my mind.” Xiaohui shrugs and takes another bite of the hotdog. “Meh. Want a little, Suyin? Last call.”
-
