♦ Dedicated to mawile_xoxo yet again because guess what it's twinsie's birthday tomorrow and I'm going to be asleep when the clock strikes twelve. Thanks for always being there for me no matter what, senpai, I'm so glad you existed and were born the way you are. I love chu <33 (and I hope you liked this shit ton of Mawile angst oops) ♦

and. whoops what have i done i hardly have the motivation to write this book anymore xD only random spikes of guilt here and there~

:I do not own Pokemon or the images used in the cover, but the plot, personalities and the edited cover belongs to me. You may not copy, translate, or reproduce it in any form unless given permission by me, @izayoix.:

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❝ Smile

if it isn't because of your life

still smile.

smile for those who made your life possible.  ❞

Mawile

I was scared.

I folded my arms, staring at the cave's blank, smoothened walls—worn from years of weather—as my crimson eyes concentrated. My gaze was ferocious—the glare was almost murderous, as if I wanted nothing more than to tear my home to pieces.

Despite my tough exterior—at least, my efforts to keep up one—I was feeling apprehensive about tomorrow morning. And I hated it—since my clan had been destroyed, I'd never been weak—I'd never dared to show weakness.

Yet, something in that Jirachi's eyes had shaken me—had convinced me otherwise. It wasn't the fact that she was a Legendary—I had come to dislike all Pokemon equally , after all—but I recognised the elusive glimmer.

It was something that I was all too familiar with—I could tell that the so-called wish-maker was hiding some sort of loss. It must have been painful, too—the same kind of sadness that plagued her gaze had been obvious throughout her frame.

I can't sympathise with her, I reminded myself. No matter what experiences we had, we're enemies. Goddamn enemies—she can burn in hell if she wants to. I. Don't Care.

Yes, that was what my mindset should have been from the start. Jirachi was my opponent, and I would beat her. Perhaps defeating the Legendary wouldn't be enough—perhaps an utter victory over her was needed to prove my strength.

"Hesitating is a form of weakness," I snapped at no one in particular, spinning around to a gleaming rock—a faint image of my own reflection stared back at me. And that weakness was why I lost everyone to those Flygon. If I had just a little more power, I could have saved even one person. I could have saved my Mother.

I didn't want to be hurt. And, in order to do that, I hurt others. My mother had always told me otherwise—become the one that gets hurt instead of hurting people—but to hell with that. My mother was dead. And the Flygon hurt her.

Being weak like that didn't get me anywhere. I had learnt that years ago. To survive, one had to be strong.

But then why am I still hesitating? My original problem had resurfaced, and it was more than starting to annoy me—it was one in the morning, after all, and I had only seven hours before the battle. Why...why am I starting to think like someone who's weak?

༺༻

Jirachi

Seven fifty-five. I huddled amongst the leaves of the nearest tree—I had been lucky to have found one that hadn't been destroyed by the Mawile. It gave me a reasonable camouflage, hiding my small frame amongst the dense sea of green.

I didn't know why, but I felt better. I knew that the Mawile's fate had to end in death today—and I had volunteered to be the one who would carry out this duty. Despite my previous fear, my apology to Cresselia had made it better.

These Pokemon we'd killed—death was the best wish that could be granted to them. No amount of physics-defying desires would ever satisfy the emptiness that they held—this was an escape from the hells they led.

As much as I hated it, I couldn't afford to be selfish any longer. I had to learn from Cresselia and forget about the period in time when I'd hated her—unlike myself, the Guardian of Dreams was strong in her own way.

Just as I had fallen into this pit of despair, my friend had accepted it. She accepted the consequences of a wish and moved on, choosing to stay silent—because sulking would not do anything.

And, as the mental rambles in my head chose to die down—finally, I thought, it's about time—the inner clock inside of me notified me of the time. It was eight o-clock—these foolish monologues could wait until after my job.

"Welcome," I stated, flying out of my makeshift perch as I spotted my opponent below me. "I assume you are ready."

༺༻

Mawile

I might have been trying my very best to keep up, but Jirachi was a Legendary—it was clear that her power far exceeded that of a normal Pokemon like me, and it was almost impossible to close that gap that years of experience had filled.

Hell, I knew that I was losing—in fact, I'd known that even before the battle—but my stubborn self refused to admit that I was weak—that there was someone stronger than me. I'd spent most of my life training to defeat stronger ones.

Living with such everlasting passion—which in turn translated to a reckless, spirit-draining hatred for every living thing around me—was the singular way I could contain my insanity. If I even tried to live a peaceful life, my mind would consume me.

This is unfair, I often thought to myself. To have a future, with fun experiences, family and friends...why does everyone else get to have them? Why don't I? Why don't I have anything?

My opponent gave me no time to dwell on the injustice that had been doled out to me, however—Jirachi's fist became sheathed with a cloak of golden that swelled every second, the Legendary rushed towards me with every intent of winning.

Panicked, my instincts took over—a feral instinct that had granted me the ability to keep hanging on to my life all these years. I was grateful for the momentary lightness—my body seemed to move in perfect sync, spinning around at the last minute and opening my jaws wide in an attempt to shield myself.

Of course, the hardened appendage couldn't overpower the assault, and pain coursed through the sensitive skin and struck at my heart—but it was better than taking the attack head-on. Other more delicate parts of my body wouldn't be able to stand the impact so well.

Snarling, I forced an angered cry—when in fact I was reconsidering my earlier viewpoint about destroying the wish-maker—I readied a counterattack, my aching jaws glowing white and solidifying even further into a state of unbreakable metal.

I lunged towards my enemy, biting down with all my might—but Jirachi had already dodged, shooting even further into the air, and my teeth met with nothing but cold morning air.

Dammit, she's just taking advantage of her stupid ability to fly—I used a nearby trunk—broken and fallen from countless days of training—to propel myself into the sky, aiming for the soft flap of skin resting against the Pokemon's belly.

The Legendary evaded my attack—her eyes were half-closed, as if she was already bored with the battle. She had already given up on even striking back—and the message she was trying to convey was nothing but clear. "It's not worth putting in the effort to attack," the silence chanted. "You're weak. I wouldn't need to lift a finger to win."

"Shut up." A snap left my mouth, aimed at no one in particular—and I lashed out once more, my jaws opening wide and my razor-sharp teeth lengthening, swirling with darkness as they searched out their prey in eager excitement. "You know nothing."

It irked me even more to see the creature floating to the left, avoiding any contact with my attack—and a circle of energy pulsed through the makeshift battlefield, aimed not at me but at the fallen pieces of wood and debris, clearing them away so they were out of my reach.

Then, she moved to the highest tree she could find—and I now had no way to get up. She's trying to lure me, I rambled to myself, she knows the only way to get to her is to destroy the tree. She knows that I haven't destroyed this tree because it's too big; it resists my powers.

"To hell with that," I hissed, my ruby eyes as toxic as some form of sulphuric acid. "You're so annoying, you know. So damn annoying."

"I do not get this," Jirachi sighed back in response, watching as I cut through the perch in a single hit—the strongest Iron Head that I had ever performed. "What are you trying to prove? Everything you are doing is just hurting yourself."

Tiny fangs were revealed as my mouth parted. "You want to know why?" I drawled, pausing to wince at the pieces of stray wood and large splinters that dug into my skin. "It's because I hate people like you. You think you're so great, but you never help us when we need it. Tell me—where were you when these Flygon killed my family?"

Jirachi's eyes narrowed as she performed a flip in mid-air, conjuring a barrier of psychic energy around her as she crafted a reply. "We have our stories as well," she reasoned. "What we do is not decided by us. Our actions are approved by Arceus—who in turn gets his orders from Fate."

An icy laugh was my initial response. "So what?" I spat. "After all that flowery language, you just mean that you're weak. Well, I'm going to defy this Fate you speak so highly about—today, I will defeat a Legendary."

With that, I slammed into my opponent's shield, a Play Rough being sufficient to break the wall—however, a stabbing pain was Jirachi's answer, my heart throbbing and feeling as if it was being torn out of my chest. Is this Fate's punishment? I don't care.

"You may be a Legendary, but I trust that you've learnt about the food chain," I growled. "The weaker ones get eaten and defeated, and to survive, you stay at the top of the chain. You become the strongest."

As I grunted—another piercing pain to my right—Jirachi tilted her head to the side. "That is also defying Fate," she muttered. "Death is inevitable to mortals like you. After all, we all have to accept that it is part of us, and that there is always something stronger waiting for us at the end of life."

She dodged yet another Iron Head—I was attacking in a blind fury now and I didn't care—and I couldn't be bothered to stop myself in time, instead crashing into a pile of debris and feeling a large branch pierce through my tender skin, centimetres away from my heart.

"I do not want to kill you like this," the Pokemon mumbled. "If you die here today—or any other day—it will be of your own free will. You have self-destructed enough, and I refuse to go any further. We will cease our battle."

"And...if it helps, I was like you not too long ago." A simple Psychic was enough to lower my weary body onto the ground, and I could only stare up, flaming gaze widening as I realised that there were tears in my enemy's eyes—tears, as contrasted to the kind smile spreading across her face.

"I let my friends die." Her voice was quiet, as if reminiscing the past. "And I wasn't able to move on for it because of my weakness. And now, I'm not fully one hundred percent yet—because I'm not strong yet. And I don't mind it. I understand how you feel."

Jirachi knelt on a bloodied patch of grass next to me, her voice soothing and warm and all too true—it hurt my ears, but at the same time, it was strangely calming listening to my opponent speak—like a disinfectant, she supposed.

"Do you know what I'm trying to say...?" The wish-maker's eyes were moist as she tried to rub the evidence of her tears away. "It's fine to be weak—just have others to support you."

"I'd like that," I mumbled back, "but everyone who would have supported me is gone."

"Life is not absolute," came the gentle reply. "I have checked in with Yveltal. Your family and friends are due for reincarnation, but they have refused. They're waiting for you, you know."

"I can tell." I lay relaxed, allowing the Legendary to wipe a stray bit of of blood away from my mouth. "And they wouldn't want to see me like this. I lost sight of why they wanted me to live, didn't I? It's kinda stupid...how this amounted to nothing..."

"I am ready to grant your wish." Jirachi spread her hands. "You just need to say the cue."

I nodded—my body was growing heavier by the minute, my ears dulled with exhaustion and the need to just sleep—the simple action was all I could manage. My voice was raspy, and it seemed like it belonged to someone else.

"Please let me see them again, with this face," I choked out, an uncontrollable smile spreading over my features—it had been years since I had lost that childhood expression of mine.

"Thank you."

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uh

i have no words okay bye

Thank you guys for 2.4K reads and 284 votes! My next goal is...I don't even want to have a goal because no one reads this anymore and I don't want my 玻璃心被打坏 (my glass heart to be broken)

Read, vote and comment as always, critiques are extremely welcome and now *salutes* Nyx out! :)

~ nyxia ☆