♦ Dedicated to silentdroplets because reasons also thanks for being a vv good irl friend. I'll try to hit you less in future and good luck on your future (and current) books !! ♦

wheeeeeeeee i actually stuck to the schedule

: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.:

༺༻

❝ Being a hero

isn't like what they say in fairytales.

Because a hero knows

when they have to

let others save the day. ❞

Cresselia

A hero of justice, the Absol had told us.

I had never liked fairytales. Even when I was first created, I had never felt much of an emotional punch—or connection—to those perfect beings that existed within the creased pages of dusty books that I never paid much attention to.

They were just too perfect. Something about their flawless personalities and ability to do everything right irked me—even as a young, unknowing Legendary who'd just been created, I was never one to read these stories in my free time.

If creatures such as them had existed, there wouldn't be issues like these happening in the world. The hero would be able to do everything. They would be able to erase all of our problems and sadness with one simple touch.

I'm certainly not a hero, then. I wouldn't have wanted to be one either—despite my current job, I was one to have darker thoughts in the corners of my mind, but I wasn't a hero. Maybe I've tried to be one—maybe that's why we're lonely. Because we tried to be heroes—and in the end, we were disconnected from other Pokemon. We stood on a whole other level—and thus, we became lonely.

Breaking out of my trance—It was becoming much easier to fall into one than it had used to—I tried to analyse the situation. Jirachi seemed to be thinking along the same lines—she turned to me, a slight frown settled on her face as she spoke.

"This is something we cannot help," she uttered in exasperation. "His problem ties back to the root of Mother Nature itself. I understand that he emulates these heroes, but surely there is another way to save them? Another way to deal out this supposed justice?"

Meloetta sighed—she had been a few metres away from us, keeping an eye on the Absol and trying to make small talk with him, but she now flew over to us. "I believe that this is Arceus' way of justice," she replied, melodic voice stained with sadness. "A traditional method that we need to break away from eventually."

"Justice is wretched," I suggested. "In trying to save others, look how reckless we become. Even if we had not intervened, he would destroy himself over time. In seeking people's approval, justice has become something that imprisons his mind."

"Perhaps it will not be the case this time..." The Melody Pokemon lowered her head. "At least, I do hope so. He has been struggling for such a long time—and I want to help him. I want to help him to stop clinging on to this destructive idea."

Jirachi was about to reply, but her head reared up as she sensed a sharp movement to her right—and she veered around, noticing the Absol stepping forward and glancing at us with a curious expression.

"Please do not be concerned about me," he smiled. "All I want to do is carry out my duty—no matter how long and how hard I take, I am sure that I will be able to reach my goal in the end—to reach it by myself. And, if you want to try to convince me otherwise, please do not waste your time."

"...Is he not being selfish?" I tried my very best not to sound like I was scorning him; after all, I wasn't—I was just curious about his mindset. "Is he not being proud? He wants to save them, but he just will not admit that he needs help."

Next to me, the wish-granter tilted her head in the Absol's direction, dark eyes glinting in sorrow as she studied the Pokemon's movements. "It seems that pride has clouded his mind," she commented. "Though a good thing to have, pride can also be a flaw that corrupts one's mind—a flaw that ruins people."

Though it was painful to perceive the Pokemon before us in such ways, Jirachi was right in saying that the mindset had destroyed creatures—it was all too often that I saw Pokemon fall victim to this sin; years and centuries of looking into creatures' pasts had given me that wisdom.

Our discussion was halted, however, as the Absol raised his head to the sky. "I apologise that we never did get to have a proper conversation," he spoke, inclining his head towards us. "But I can sense something—a major earthquake, I think—and I would like to go now. I would like to help the residents once again."

"Once again...?" The Wish Pokemon had taken on a firm, mocking tone—it seemed that she had other ideas to go about this than being gentle—no, she thought that it would be best to beat the harsh truth into him. "Why would you say that?" she scoffed. "You have not helped them in any way. You have been nothing but selfish, and that has not helped anyone."

Freezing, her insults seemed to have effect on the obstinate creature for a moment—behind his veil of white fur, I could see his muscles tense—he was starting to flinch, and though he tried to mask it, the action was plain to see.

"Then, I rephrase my sentence." His voice was as calm as it had been, and I took a second to wonder just how he had managed that. "I would like to help them. It is as simple as that."

All three of us knew that what he said was a lie—it wasn't that simple. He was trying to prove something—he didn't just want to help them. He wanted to help them no matter what it took—by himself. He didn't want anyone's help.

"You will only get hurt," Meloetta advised. "As a Legendary, it is my duty to protect Arceus' world, and that is what I am trying to do. Have you not learnt from past experiences? You will not be able to save them by yourself—if you do want them to be alive, then it would be best to ask Jirachi for assistance."

A heavy breath tainted the silence that followed—and it was evident that the Absol was getting annoyed with our attempts to reason with him. "Meloetta, I appreciate your efforts." His voice was still gentle—however, it was just a matter of time before he ignored us altogether. "But I have made up my mind—I can save them, just you watch."

He nudged past the barrier that we had formed—we hadn't noticed—even past the weak burst of power that Meloetta had put up in a final attempt to stop the Absol from leaving—and with that, he was gone, racing towards the village with desperation clouding his mind.

༺༻

Absol

It was their fault, I tried to comfort myself.

Yes, if they hadn't tried to stop me, maybe I could have done better this time. Maybe I could have been the hero this time—the hero that other Absol hadn't been able to become. Maybe, for once, I could have saved the entire village.

The Jirachi's words rang in my head—I had tried my very best to respond with calmness, but they had taken its effect on me. Yes, I admitted that I was being selfish, but that was what heroes always were in the end weren't they?

Heroes were supposed to be the ones who saved the day—something I hadn't done. But it had always been done with their merit—with their courage and strength alone and with their overwhelming justice that had always beat whatever obstacles that stood in their way. They'd done it themselves.

...right?

Now isn't the time to ponder about these things! I snapped to myself, noticing that I had slowed to a sluggish jog in these few moments my emotions had consumed me—and I sped up once again, nagging at myself that there wasn't enough time to be sloppy and that I had to hurry.

I'm at the city now. And I could certainly see the impact that the earthquake was bringing too—the ground rumbled like distant thunder, and I could even hear the muffled sounds of furniture rattling as if a freight train had just passed. Buildings had already start to collapse—there was a sizeable amount of debris already starting to collect and oh Arceus so much has passed.

Trying to calm myself down—hysterics were not necessary for this—I rushed into the town, horn glowing with the signature radiance of a Night Slash as I tried to bring some order to the mess.

I tried to unearth some figures from the pile of rubble that they were stuck in, and I'd succeeded in doing that—but it didn't matter because most of the humans were already dead. I had managed to free them from their makeshift prisons, but that didn't matter if I'd been too late.

Deciding not to dwell too long on the fact—I did feel bad about blaming the Legendaries for this, but it was the one thing that made me able to move on—I leaped up, moving on to the next pile with growing desperation.

That mess contained nothing but a few corpses—ones that had given me hope for a moment—and thus, I moved on to the next.

And the next.

And the next.

I hadn't been able to save the whole city—just a few meagre lives, but a sense of pride filled me nonetheless—at least I'd managed to save some of them. The death toll far outweighed the survivors, though—and that shook me. If that happened, I couldn't achieve this justice. This would still be an overall failure.

...The mayor's house—I told myself to check next. I prayed that it was empty, that they had somehow managed to evacuate, but it seemed that just the mayor himself had been lucky. The man took one glance at him before his expression wrinkled into a scowl, raising a pistol to his head and preparing to fire.

I somehow managed to evade the shot, instead racing closer to the house—cracks were already forming, goddamit—and tried to ignore the angry shouts that were coming from the man behind me. Now's not the time! I shouted at him from my panicked mind. I need to save them. I need to—

My mental sentence was interrupted as my mind just stopped thinking—and pain ricocheted through each cell of my body. All I could assume was that I was hit by debris—maybe I'd reached the house just as it'd collapsed? I honestly didn't know—my thoughts were slowing to a standstill.

This shouldn't be happening. I didn't make a mistake, did I? I did try to save them—so why couldn't I move? Why did my legs feel like blocks of wood that had betrayed me—I couldn't even budge an inch.

A hero wouldn't get injured like I did, right? There wouldn't be any events like this—a hero would be careful—he would have known about the possibility of something like this. I aspired to be a like a hero—yet, I hadn't even done anything.

"That's because heroes like that can't exist in real life." A familiar voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked up to see the Jirachi above me. I couldn't make out my surroundings—most of my vision was dark, consisting of broken concrete, but I could see the Legendary as clear as day.

"I never approved of your traditional thinking style," she scolded. "Unfortunately, I am unable to change your fate. Death will claim you, and that is Yveltal's business—not mine. I am here, however, to offer you a last redemption."

"What is it?" I asked. I had lost all the snark in my tone—and it was because I was powerless. I couldn't do anything—even Jirachi had admitted it—and if it was beneficial to the city in any way, I would have no choice to accept.

She tilted her head. "Make a wish," she urged. "I can see it in your heart—you are already willing. If you want to save this city, then make a wish."

I felt myself nod slowly—it sickened me, but it was for the best, wasn't it? Still—why wasn't I angry that I wasn't the hero this time? 

"I wish to save everyone in this city."

"Good," she confirmed. "Your wish has been granted. I am glad you learnt—you will be a true hero this way."

༺༻

Darkrai

My head snapped up at the sudden series of images that had pierced its way into my mind, as if an iron had burnt the thought into my head—and the scene kept looping itself in my head like an annoying movie that refused to just go away.

What was that?

I could feel my eyes narrow at the notion—my sister was doing something—something to signal that Arceus and I were falling further behind.

What was that memory?

༺༻

i'm tired af now

Thanks for 2.8k reads and 304 votes !

yay