♦ Dedicated to Phenomexx for being my fabulous shit of a bro. I guess. I still hate you uwu but maybe you'll redeem yourself with ghost-kuns and vest-kuns and fangirling over shet and writing poems about ferid. ye. (let's! go! home!) ♦

...i have nothing to say i'm very pissed can I get out of here

: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.:

༺༻

❝ We all want to be

like those fairytale heroes of our childhood

and save everyone

be a hero of justice

don't we? ❞

Cresselia

It didn't hurt as much to see the Mawile go.

I didn't quite know why, but although my heart did ache to see the sleeping figure, it brought an odd wave of calmness and serenity that was more than enough to outweigh the choking stone in my chest—as if the little creature's peace was alleviating the guilt of just having killed yet another Pokemon.

A ruby glow rose from the lifeless figure, shaping itself into a compressed sphere of fairylike light that shone with a happiness not unlike that of the Umbreon or Espeon that we'd first seen off, or the twin Ponyta that had let go of their life in order to seek true bliss.

The soft flap of skin on Jirachi's belly opened, revealing the hidden emerald optic that shimmered with an intense radiance—and, with a silent flap of her two streamer-like extensions, the scarlet orb was gone, having being swallowed whole by the ever-staring eye.

Before I could even say a word, the mythical Pokemon turned to me, shaking her head and closing her third eye once again. "You do not need to apologise for anything," she sighed. "Those previous times were not your fault. I was the one who was not strong enough to face death."

A tiny smile formed on the creature's face, and she looked at her hands with an mixture of emotions. "I am the weakest here, but I will learn," she mumbled. "Perhaps...perhaps undertaking this was good for me after all."

Meloetta flew up behind her friend, blue eyes wide as she put reassuring hands on the wish-maker's shoulders. "You really have changed, Jira." Her voice was teasing as the Legendary's nickname left her mouth; yet, a sense of pride and relief was evident in her melodic tone. "That's good."

"Indeed it is," I agreed, and a length of silence followed—and, to break the uneasy quiet, I continued speaking. "Anyway...we need to get back on track. Assuming that this was Passion, and that we have already obtained Solstice and Unity—I suppose only Justice and Hope are left."

Jirachi lifted her head, the next two lines of the poem—prophecy of sorts—spilling forth as if it had already been imprinted into her mind. "Everyone strives for the heroes' allure," she mouthed, "but we may all fall to darkness's comforting lull."

A hero's allure... Though we might have been Legendaries, we'd heard our share of the childish fairytales that younger Pokemon would learn—they had, after all, been a form of passing time in our infancy. She remembered those gaudy "heroes" of the book, always too perfect to be true—they never made any mistakes. No wonder I always disliked these stories.

Because deep down, I hadn't been perfect from the start. I was created to be someone to look up to, someone that was, to others, perfect—but I had failed at that task. I had already let someone down.

"Snap out of it," Jirachi ordered, her dark eyes firm as she nudged me. "We need to concentrate. I can tell that you are falling into a sort of self-pitying trance—I have been there before. It will not help the situation in any way, so just ignore any mistake you have done and carry on."

I nodded—it was a hesitant action, but the Legendary's words still held some semblance of truth to them—and besides, her argument made more sense than mine had. "Thank you for the wake-up call, then," I breathed. "Shall we get back on track."

The wish-maker shrugged. "I believe that this is Justice," she suggested. "I don't know why. Maybe it is because of the phrase 'heroes of justice' that fairytales always try to impress upon us. The two words seem to go well together."

Meloetta—who had been quiet all this while—raised her head, a thoughtful expression playing on her lips—and Jirachi caught the shift in movement.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her three wish tags making a small time as she jolted up. "Or do you know of any Pokemon that might possess this quality? Anyone relevant?"

The Melody Pokemon frowned, tilting her head as she contemplated the thoughts running through her mind. "Perhaps," she agreed, floating up into the air and beckoning for us to follow her—as if she knew just where to go. "Perhaps I do."

༺༻

We were still in Hoenn, at least—it was a sign that we didn't need to waste as much energy this time.

However, I had absolutely no idea where we were headed—we were long past the more well-known cities that had been marked out on the region's map. This was somewhere rural—we passed by an unchanging scenery of forest and wild Pokemon; there was only rare sneak of civilisation that had managed to sneak in on a few occasions.

"Almost there," Meloetta mouthed—and after a few minutes, she signalled for us to touch down. I glanced around at my surroundings—the city we were in was pretty modern for being in an area like this. People were everywhere, making the roads and pavements more than a little claustrophobic—but that wasn't the matter now.

The Legendary seemed to pay no attention to the city, however—she flew on, her long hair trailing behind her as she wove through the crowds with ease. Jirachi followed behind, struggling to keep up—and I, being the biggest, settled for flying overhead, keeping a close eye on the two smaller Pokemon below me.

In no time, we were out of the town, and Jirachi panted, turning to shoot a glare at her friend. "What was that for?" she complained. "You could have at least given us a heads-up."

"Now is not the time to argue," Meloetta replied in her smooth tone, and gestured at the area around them. "Besides, we have arrived. It is best if we leave our attention to a topic that actually matters."

It took me less than a second to decide that I disliked the place. The amount of pollution in the air was more than acrid—it wrapped around my throat like a snake that tried to reduce the fragile organ to mere dust, and the stench of rotting debris and garbage was overwhelming.

Before I could even ask why she would have brought us here, the Melody Pokemon flew forward a few metres, giving herself a slight nod—it looked as if it was an action of confirmation, although I couldn't be sure of the details—and, stopping to hesitate a little, we followed behind.

Then, she slid to a halt, and an uneasy blanket of silence fell over us like a dreary, heavy cloud—one that I was sure had to be nimbostratus, because regular clouds just weren't supposed to be that heavy. And that was when I knew I was nervous—I was overcomplicating the smallest detail once again.

"Look down," she instructed—it was unusual that Meloetta would be the one to command us both. She was a big help, but she'd really stayed in the back like a shadow—she had always been more than a little distant from the rest of us.

We heeded her decree, casting our gazes downwards—and we remained in the air, feeling the need to get a bird's eye view of the situation.

Standing below us was a quadruped, his midnight-toned body swathed in an angelic cape of snowy-white fur. The Pokemon's form was sleek—and the crescent-shaped horn jutting out from his head marked him as an Absol.

What had prevented the exquisiteness of the Dark-type from shining through was the marks marring his dark skin—they camouflaged well enough, but such a large number of scars couldn't be hidden from any sort of Pokemon.

I could feel my eyes widen at the sight—what had happened to cause the Pokemon such injuries?—but Jirachi remained collected, lowering herself so that the Disaster Pokemon would be able to spot her.

"Hello," she called. Her voice was nervous, as if the Absol gave off a kind of intimidating aura. "I think you might know me. My name is Jirachi, and I am the Legendary of wishes. You should recognise my name, I think—I reside in Hoenn. The one over there is Cresselia, and—"

A deep voice replied, and the Absol's baritone voice was kind—for Pokemon who had been daunted by the rugged look portrayed by the elegant beast, the warmth was quite jarring in a way, and we had not ben expecting that.

"There is no need to introduce yourselves," he responded. "I have already learnt of all of you from a young age—and besides, Meloetta has filled me in beforehand. I understand that you want me to die for the sake of the world—but I will have to decline."

I turned to the slim Legendary beside me, asking for an explanation—and the Melody Pokemon was more than happy to give me one. "Being the Legendary of Music, I do not have many jobs," she started. "Even helping around with Arceus' odd jobs do little to pass the time. That was when I ran into this Absol—I've been passing by every so often and taking care of him."

The Dark-type nodded his head in agreement, crimson eyes glittering with gratitude at the memory. "Indeed," he confirmed. "I must thank Meloetta for all her kindness—if not for her, I would surely have died several times over."

"It is no problem," was her short reply—and then, I felt Meloetta's voice filter into my mind—a signal that she was taking advantage of her telepathy to talk to me and me alone.

"I am close to the Absol—perhaps the one he is closest to, but he had not once opened up to me." She was frowning now, a sign that she was indeed concerned about the issue. "Thus, you will have to look into his past. This...this is for the better."

Nodding, I murmured a vague noise in return—even if she hadn't asked me to, I would have done it at some point. My mind concentrated on nothing but the white-sheathed creature before me, and I felt all other miscllaneous sounds pass through an invisible filter and fade to something that could almost be described as nonexistence.

Was it a good or bad thing that I was getting more used to this than ever—stealing glances inside a Pokemon's head, unearthing all their deepest secrets and crushing the walls between past and present?

Holding that thought, I felt myself being sucked into the past once again.

༺༻

I found it surprising that unlike the rest of the pasts I had seen, this one revolved around an area that was almost exactly the same as the wasteland we'd been in mere moments ago. One would have thought that creatures with such tragic histories would have chosen to move away and far from any nasty experiences, but it seemed as if he was clinging to this shred of his past.

The Absol stood at attention—he was quite a few years younger, but it was clear that this was the same creature I had met moments ago. At first glance, he appeared to be normal—but I soon realised that his entire posture was taut, as if he was fearful or something.

"Tsunami incoming," he whispered to himself, jumping off a ledge that seemed much too high and dangerous to be even standing on—yet, he pulled the move off with impressive mobility. "I have to help them."

The lines seemed rehearsed—as if they belonged to someone else other them him—but the spark of concern in his eyes couldn't be faked.

I could feel the thoughts slamming and rushing through his head—ones that made me flinch from the doubt that pricked at the edge of these presumptions.

Can't be too late again, one thought spoke. I don't want to fail to save them again. Mother and Father always told me to be different from those Absol—to save them no matter what. But I've always been too late. I'm sure the people hate me.

He was running now, legs breaking into a sprint towards the nearby city—where I could see the beginning of the disaster. Waves were roaring like a much more intimidating, untamed creature of nature than their usual form—and they swallowed the town in a hazy chaos, as if it was nothing more than an architect's scaled model swept away.

I wish I could have seen him succeed—to save the people from the wild monster, but he had been far too late to stop the damage.

The last traces of water swirled around his lakes, and he saw the city in utter ruins—shattered debris and haphazard disarray met his eyes. Not that many lives had been lost—this place was somewhere who'd been used to disasters—but he couldn't have even prevented the damage.

An accusing shout rang in both our ears, followed by a series of angry yells—and he looked down—he knew it came from the townspeople—he couldn't blame them. They were simply angry.

"It's him again!"

"He always appears when disaster strikes..."

"Get lost!"

"I bet you're the cause of all this!"

Stones pelted his coat and skin—but he stood still as a statue, as if he was used to the abuse; they weren't small pebbles, but they were the largest and sharpest pieces of rock and debris that they could find. Some hits drew blood; yet, he never moved from that spot.

It was as if he wanted to tell them something—as if he wanted to repent.

Did he want to be punished?

༺༻

As I finished my hushed explanation to the two Legendaries beside me, Jirachi fell silent—it seemed that the quiet had become a savoury safe house for her, and I wasn't about to take that away.

"You know," she finally spoke, turning to the Absol, "you don't have to go through all of this suffering. You could just make a wish to save them—and I will be more than happy to grant it for you."

He shook his head in response—a firm reaction that puzzled all three of us.

"I thank you for your generous offer," he laughed. "Still, I cannot accept. I would like to do this myself. It's some kind of complex, I have to say—one might even think I wanted to be one of those cutout characters from a fairytale. Like a...

...a hero of justice."

༺༻

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