Chương 47: Chapter 41

Charlie only leaves once Miss Ryuko settles into sleep. I should follow her, but I'm not terribly tired right now. And also… I don't get it. I hurt Miss Ryuko, and she understands. Except that I do get it, since she understands. Worse, she was expecting it to happen at some point. I need to keep reminding myself not to start systematizing again. Charlie isn't here. But Miss Ryuko should be disappointed. Or angry. Or admonishing. Or anything but… understanding. Patient. What am I supposed to make of that?

It's become obvious that everything I'd known before finding myself here was– What? A lie? A carefully maintained illusion? And Miss Ryuko doesn't expect anything from me? She doesn't want me to win, or protect her, or even to help with understanding other pokemon. Well… that last one is only half true. She would like it, but she doesn't want me to feel like I need to. It's all so different from Johto. Too different. And I can't help feeling that Miss Ryuko is almost too patient, too understanding.

I know she's not Mitsuaki. I know she's… She's a better person than him. But being reminded of that fact is uncomfortable for some reason I can't place. I can try, though. Why did I listen to him? Follow him through the gyms and fight after fight? I… don't know. Because that's all I knew? Because that's what I was supposed to do? Because that was my purpose…? I can't tell. I can't even remember that much from the early years.

I don't want to remember everything from after to now, either, but that doesn't mean I can't. But then Miss Ryuko took all that away. And she's been so nice. She just wants me to be safe and healthy. Except that I know it's more than that, she wants me to be able to be… me. And I hurt her for it. And she was expecting it. Her lack of disappointment or judgment just makes me feel horrible about doing it. I don't want her to feel that, even if she's ready for it. Especially since she was ready for it.

I shouldn't have sent so much at once. I know she can't handle it. But Charlie's energy shaping was so interesting! And weird! And Fascinating! And Impossible! And I– I should have just asked Charlie instead of Miss Ryuko. Energy doesn't move like that. It– It can't move like that. Shapes don't work like that! Yet Charlie seems to know things that don't make sense. Things that they've known are explicitly wrong, even by their own admission. I don't get it. I don't get them.

I don't understand how everyone can feel so many different things and still keep it all under control! I don't get how they can look at me and not– Oh. I just woke Miss Ryuko up. And… I don't think Weaver ever fell asleep. She's watching me, and I hadn't noticed. I can feel myself relaxing as my bond shifts, sitting up as her mind feels around our connection.

"You can't sleep? No…" She murmurs.

'You aren't tired,' She finishes mentally. I send her assurance and as much contentment as I can muster. It's not a lot. I follow up with somnolence and harmony. I could let her sleep pull me in if I wanted. I think I sent more than I wanted to, though. Or maybe she is getting better at feeling the bond. She's had it mostly open the last few days. She frowns, and as much as I want to know what I can feel her thinking about, I've messed up enough recently.

"You need something to put your mind to," She eventually says.

"You don't have anything stimulating to keep occupied with. That's my fault." I send denial. Obviously she hasn't done anything wrong. That just makes her concerned. She doesn't say anything for several seconds, thoughts turning, her attention focused on me. It shifts to the dark-type briefly before resettling on me.

"Would you like it if I read to you? It might give you something else to think about." She emphasizes her question with just how much she cares, but I can also feel how tired she is at the moment. I don't know what I should answer to that, and my indecision ends up making the choice for me. ▲▲▲ ▼▼▼ My drifting through the city comes to an inevitable end as I spy a clock and realize I should be headed to the ranger base soon. It's almost five-twenty, and Weaver always wakes Onaga up at five-forty.

Ranger shifts start at… always, I think, but they start patrolling at eight-ish. Still, turning to start flying that way, I'm a bit disappointed that I couldn't find any sign of Celebi. No massive glow or anything. I didn't find a 'shrine' either, although I'm not sure what one would even look like. Or how you go about… anything to do with visiting one. I'm really thinking about learning, though.

And I don't even know what 'somewhere South' means, since Marshal hasn't been here in a hundred years, and things can change a lot in that kind of time. Is it near where the city turns into farmland? More North? More South? Would it even still be around one hundred years later? I'm at least fairly sure the answer to that last question is yes. A shrine to a very real spirit feels like something people would keep around. For historical reasons, if nothing else. It's also not like I was entering many buildings.

Most places close overnight, and the ones that don't are mostly emergency services or the rare convenience store. Well, and some places that are obviously attempting to cater to nocturnal pokemon. Which mostly just means they stay open at night. Honestly, I'm starting to love this city. And maybe part of that is just what I usually taste when flying around. People are generally happy. The planning is nice too. It's dense, but not crowded.

I pass by a whole group of feline pokemon, hanging all over and around the second-floor balcony of… a flower shop. As usual, although some of them look up to watch me, they're only mildly interested– That meowth just gave me finger guns. Okay then. That seems to have made a few more of the cats pay attention. Still, there's nothing negative in the air, and I keep flying along. The city simply cuts off once I reach the edge, and I'm floating at an angle over a dirt path.

I speed up a bit, the ranger base coming into sight shortly after. I wonder why it was built here? I know there's another actually in the city, on the east side, and another down South in the town there, but the locations can't have been arbitrary, can they? Then again, it's a relatively young organization. That somehow owns a whole castle. I really need to put some work into learning more history, both local and global… No, I'm going to finish that thought. I should see if Onaga can get me stuff from a library.

Put my Sinnohan literacy to work. Actually, I'm certain Onaga can help because Weaver loves reading. And on that thought, Weaver– Hmm, Weaver is typically awake by now, but not Onaga. Did something happen? They're all in the kitchenette, Onaga just pouring a cup of tea… Espeon is tired. I'd bet she's feeling a lot of that. Weaver is the first to notice me. Of course. She knew I was here before I even made it through the wall. The weavile beckons me down to table-height.

"How'd your night go?" She quietly asks, prompting the ranger to notice me as well." I mostly spent it flying around," I say at the same volume, shrugging.

"Marshal visited my clearing. We didn't talk for long since all you mortals seem to need too much sleep, but I asked her about celebi, and she said there was a shrine to them somewhere south when she lived here." Weaver gives me a flat look at my sleep comment, although she starts nodding once I finish.

"I guess that makes sense. Although I can't really help there," She says, grinning.

"… But," I prompt after it becomes clear she's waiting for me to do so." Ryu's decided we're taking it easy," The black cat says, waggling her eyebrows.

"Also, she needs to look for some things for Espeon, and Karlos isn't going to say no unless he has to. So we'll be doing some shopping, and probably get to do some stuff today." I glance at the woman, currently taking her time mixing a very small amount of milk and honey into her berry tea.

"You know, she asked me about that yesterday," I say, looking back at Weaver.

"And there are some places I've seen that I'd like to look at when they're open. I'm guessing there's a catch, though?"" It's not like we can go too off route," Weaver nods.

"Or stay in one place too long, Ryu will still need to be on duty." I look back over at Onaga again to find her focused on us now, slowly sipping her drink. She looks between Weaver and me, "All caught up?" She asks, amused.

"Did Weaver tell you what the plan for today is?"" I assume so," I reply, nodding as I side-eye the cat in question. I receive a too innocent look from her." That's all for later," Onaga says, looking over at the ever-silent Espeon. She considers something for a moment before seeming to decide against whatever it was, sipping her tea again.

"For now, let's get started on the morning."

Onaga starts to slow down, eventually hitting a walking pace before letting Espeon drop to the ground." I've passed this place a few times," I say as we approach a storefront. One of the larger buildings, three stories and rather more modern in style. The signs out front read six apartment numbers and… Something that I think has to be wordplay of some kind, because I can't recognize it at all.

"It was never open."" When did you do the passing?" Weaver asks, already smirking." No idea," I shrug, floating up to the windows for a better look at all the things stacked inside.

"After midnight, probably." Now that the curtains aren't drawn, I can see a wall lined with various board games and books, alongside shelves covered in dice, trading cards, assorted toys, and comics. A geek's haven, I remember these from when I was alive. They always seemed interesting. It's funny to think how I never took the chance to look inside one while I was… Okay, ignoring the depressing past-me thoughts." So, we're here to get stuff for Espeon?"

I ask, pulling back from the glass as I notice Onaga and Espeon already inside." And us, if we find anything" Weaver corrects, wagging a claw at me.

"Trust me, Ryu knows how you get bored, too. But yeah, Espeon." I stop myself from saying something defensive. Weaver's right, I've just been trying not to get too involved with Onaga. I should really change that at some point. Nodding, I float backward through the transparent barrier. Weaver rolls her eyes as she has to use the door, and then immediately heads for the wall of books. … What do I look at, now? Onaga's talking to one of the people behind the counter, asking about something for Espeon.

That doesn't give me much direction. Weaver's already engrossed in looking at what I suspect are tabletop books. Maybe trading cards? There's also a back corner I haven't seen yet, semi-separated from the rest of the space by shelves. I drift to one of the shelves stocked with cards. I've seen kids playing with these during one of my few daylight jaunts around the city. They're pokemon cards, although not like the ones I remember from way back when. Makes sense, of course they'd be different.

Like baseball cards instead of the card game. I take a look at the stand of opened cards and see several different kinds of art on display, as well as real photos. Neat, but not really my thing. What even are my 'things'? … This is one of those thoughts I need to address, isn't it? It's hard to answer, though, since I spent most of my life trying to just keep going. Sure, I had projects, but all except maybe two of those were basically maintenance or work.

I still enjoyed most of them, however, even when it was back-breaking. That's not exactly a 'thing' though, that's a career. Internet videos, I guess? I don't think those really count. They were more of a distraction than anything, and it would be like calling watching TV a hobby. What else? Friends? Amy– Nope! I really don't want to touch that landmine again. Not here, at least. Not where there are people around. And those aren't really 'things,' either. What about further back? Oh, hey, pokemon.

Back when I still played. Holy fuck, my life was empty. I can remember so much, but the more I look, the worse it gets. Just… big patches where I clearly didn't bother remembering anything. Because why would I? There was nothing important, just a haze. For most of my adult life. I really wish I could see some of my friends again, I need to thank them. I think they might be the only reason I managed for so long. So much for 'ignoring the depressing past-me thoughts.' I need to stop.

And I phased out at some point, so let's start by fixing that. Doing whatever it is that puts my me-puppet back in reality, I just– I take a moment to remind myself that things are better now. Better than they were yesterday, even. I'm better. That's how I can look back and see all this for what it is. And, more recently, I have found things I like doing. Even if I don't know if I can call them hobbies. I like flying. I enjoy messing with my powers.

I even had fun when Marshal tore me apart, and that one really surprised me. Being bothered by how much time I have to get bored with now is much better than simply– What? Shutting down? How else could I even describe it? I can't remember enough to really put it any other way. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. No, the way things are now, even with the annoyances and looming dreads, is infinitely better.

I give Weaver what I hope is a reassuring smile, since she's watching me over her book. I guess I've just been floating here for a bit too long. Now properly re-centered, I drift farther back into the store, getting a look around the corner. Oh. I wasn't really expecting to see video games here. Or… at all, outside of arcade machines. Although I don't think they're being sold. The back corner contains two tables with six chairs each, a long couch, and a large—for a CRT—television.

There's a small grayish-blue and yellow lizard, a totodile, playing an eye-searingly neon-pastel game on the TV. I can't even tell what's supposed to be happening in it, but she's focused. I'll leave her be. Well, board games for me, I guess. I need to drift around one of the clerks as he shows some things to Onaga. That puts me right next to Weaver, so I take a look at what she's doing.

The weavile has her snout buried in some kind of rules book, holding what I assume is the index page open while she flips back and forth between it and other parts." Anything interesting?" I query. She gives me a raised eyebrow, and I shake my head. She holds the look a bit longer before shrugging, thankfully deciding not to push the matter right now. She returns her attention to the book.

"I don't know yet…" She hedges, tilting her head back and forth.

"I want to think it could be fun, but the more I read the more it seems purpose written to kill players off." She stops, looking up from the book before turning to me." Do you know what this is? I can explain, I think."" I think?" I tell her, equivocating.

"We had something called 'Dungeons And Dragons,' I'm assuming they're pretty similar, although I've never actually played it." I take a moment to try to read through the stylized font on the cover, then cross that with the dictionary in my head.

"Mystery Dungeons, Master's Guide," I say, looking at how many—or few, in this case—books share its pattern. There are a lot of different games on this wall." Yeah," Weaver nods, going back to leafing through pages.

"It's definitely made for humans, though. It has a lot of rules around how certain pokemon should act," She says, flipping to the index, then another page before turning the book to face me.

"Like this part." I've already committed the page to memory, but my reading is still slow. I try to zero in on what she could mean. That part looks like a lot of descriptions in order… and the symbols look familiar– Those are types? There are fifteen of them. I parse through the one with the darkest symbol next to it, already suspecting what I'll find.

'Treacherous, deceitful, and power hungry, the dark–' "Wow," I say, having proved myself right.

"Are they all like the dark-type one?"" Kinda, yeah," Weaver sighs, taking the book out of my face.

"Did you read the ice-type one, too?" No, but that doesn't matter.

'Merciless, detached, and rather antisocial, this is the type that–' "Holy shit," I mutter. Then frown as I realize I can't check what it says about ghosts because that type isn't in there.

"I see what you mean about being made for humans."" Yep. I think I'm going to look at a different one, actually," She says, closing the book." Good luck," I say, refocusing on the shelves around– Is that…?

"So you even have these here?" I say, carefully lifting a brightly colored cube from where it's almost tucked behind a box.

"Out of all the things I've seen be the same, I didn't think I'd see this." It's a Rubik's Cube. Not that it's called that, the tag says… Something phonetic. One of the modifier syllables for possession, then 'Pōnsure' Box, I think. The lack of spaces can make it hard to tell sometimes." Oh, and those are pretty tricky too," Someone speaks up. I glance at the voice to see it's one of the clerks pointing me out to Onaga as he sets a small box down on the counter.

"We don't have a lot of them, but I'm proud to say we're the only store in Vientown to have them at all," He informs us. Chuckling, he adds, "I haven't been able to solve mine."" Could you…" Onaga begins, trailing off as I whip the item over. The burst of shock and apprehension I get from the two men manning the store as the item whips to its new spot is somewhat satisfying.

"Thank you," The woman nods, placing it next to the other thing she's picked out. I don't think I'll be getting anything from here. At least not today. Onaga is already paying for the two things she's buying, and then we'll have to get Espeon back and settled in before getting on with the work day. ***" Ten minutes," Onaga warns, pointing at Weaver.

"And you should get your own card while you're in there." Onaga obviously isn't joining in. My guess is that she and Dodrio will circle the block before coming back to get us. Take it easy today indeed. I think she might be lower on Francois' call list, too. She hasn't been radioed much. Well, that, or it's because Karlos made the executive decision to spread the load and not keep someone on base, even himself.

Probably helps that none of them are handling the forest north of town, since there are apparently still people from higher in the organization combing through it. Not that we haven't been doing things. Obviously. Although not as much as yesterday. And I doubt there's any way you could have a completely uneventful day in a city this size. Onaga has gotten a lot of questions she's had to answer with 'I'm not at liberty to say,' though. For now, I'm hopefully going to answer a few of my bigger questions. Finally.

Although… Where do I start? I'd like to know a bit more history, just because, but I get the feeling folklore might serve me better in the long-term. I would try to look up things on ghost-types, but we're apparently closer to folklore anyway, which is part of that choice. Of course, history and folklore are probably sorted together anyway, so it shouldn't be a problem. Before I can get to any of that, though, "Hey Weaver?" I query." Mmmyess…?"

She practically purrs, skipping up the single step in front of the rather tasteful, large white-stone building. One of the very few free-standing examples in the city." You wouldn't mind helping me find a few things, would you?" I ask as we enter the… Classically Art Deco interior. Wood, stone, brass, and glass. With understated but not muted reds and yellows contrasting with careful grays. As well as artful columns that, on closer inspection, actually are load-bearing instead of purely decorative.

Even the lights are recessed into large, rounded wells that bathe everything in light without exposing the lights themselves." Weaver," I say, taking it all in.

"You said ' a library.' I'm assuming this is the central library here?"" Yep," she hums.

"And of course I'll help you find stuff, just let me take care of this first. Also," She adds, glancing back at me, "Maybe take your voice down a notch." I suppose that's fair.

'Loud' is my default, even when I'm not trying to be. That's just how my voice naturally is. I do have excellent control over it, though.

"Could you point me to the historical section first?" I whisper, scanning all the engraved signs I can see. Fiction… Children's… Young Adult… Non-Fiction… I am getting faster. My recognition of words and patterns is building quickly. Faster than I would have thought…" Back corner, under non-fiction," My feline companion points, having walked up to one of the desks.

"Go on," she says, shooing me, "I'll be over in a second." I roll my eyes, reducing myself to only them as I leave her to wait on a librarian. Once I'm closer to where she pointed out, I do see the plaque on a row of shelves that reads 'Historical.' Now for the hard part. What to look for first? I don't really know.

'History' is a pretty big subject, and I'm looking for… a lot of things, I guess. I start scanning down the shelves, looking for any titles that stand out as important. Most of the titles seem to be referencing events or time-periods that are completely unknown to me. What is 'The Age of Hisui,' for example? Although 'The Complete History of Rota' sounds familiar. Isn't that where lucario are from?" Hey, could you hold these for me, Smokey?" Weaver asks, pulling me out of my task.

Also surprising someone nearby, I think on the other side of the shelf. I turn to glance at what the weavile means. She has a whole stack of books perched in her arms, as tall as she is.

"Sure," I quietly respond after phasing back in enough, carefully enveloping the stack with telekinesis. Doing my best to ignore the mild fear and intrigue. Books, thankfully, are pretty heavy once you get a few of them. And solid enough that I don't need to constantly fiddle with the energy to deal with motion inside." So, what are you looking for?" Weaver asks, twitching an ear to follow something." I don't know, honestly," I admit, holding in a sigh.

"Most of history? Anything about ghosts?" I consider for a moment.

"Stuff about religion, maybe?"" I don't know if we have long enough to search for all that," Weaver says, tapping her chin.

"I can check a few things out for you, though." I almost tell her she doesn't need to, since I won't need long with any book, but… I'm bad at time now. But on the thought of checking books out, "I'm going to be flying these to the base, aren't I?" Weaver smirks in reply, waggling her eyebrows.

'– link between graveyards and sightings of misdreavus is still unknown and currently only substantiated by anecdotal accounts. They may appear similar to shuppet at first glance, however, their coloration–' I don't know how much I like this book.' The Unsolved Type.' Supposedly, it's meant to have information about 'mystic-type' pokemon. In reality, it's dry and fairly light on details.

Unfortunately, there really isn't much information out there about ghost-types, so the only thing it has going for it is the occasional image. I turn my focus back to the memory of the page, inspecting the image of a misdreavus again. It's black and white, a bit grainy, and obviously taken from a distance. Still, I can see how different we look, even without color. For one thing, I'm bigger, longer. Longer limbs, longer dress, larger head. For another, their gems aren't perfectly spherical like mine.

Theirs are more ovoid and held extremely close to their 'neck'. It is nice to get a look at another member of my species, at least. Maybe I should look at one of the other books I scanned through. Although– I refocus on the world around me, checking on Weaver and Onaga. The ranger is scanning around, letting Dodrio carry us on some route through the city. Weaver, on the other hand, has noticed my attention moving back to reality."

I still can't tell if I should be jealous," She hums suspiciously, pulling my arm to move me closer." You have a lot more books than I do," I point out." Yeah, but you can read the ones you flipped through at any time," She counters, frowning.

"Even if you had trouble with the pages." Which is true, needing to use five of my arms to hold a book and turn pages was an experience. Weaver keeps staring at me for a bit.

"What's that like?"" The arm thing? Or the memory thing?" I confirm.

"The memory thing," Weaver says, nodding." I'm a bit surprised you're only asking now," I chuckle." I think it only just really hit me, with what you're doing with it," She shrugs.

"So, spill."" Kind of amazing, kind of terrible," I sigh.

"Kind of terrifying, too." Weaver slowly blinks at me.

"I mean, yeah, I can remember everything," I start to explain.

"That's great most of the time."" But," Weaver prompts. I take a moment to consider what I should say. Might as well bring out the big one.

"Now imagine being stabbed seven times, and feeling the life literally drain out of you while that's happening," I calmly inform her. Weaver has the decency to wince.

"Now that memory is connected to every other instance of what used to be a bright point in your life, and you can't forget it."" That's the terrible part," Weaver says, soberly." That's the terrible part," I nod back.

"I used that as an extreme example, but it's with everything. My near self-destruction, Marshal tearing me apart, those smugglers at my cabin, every time Espeon has a panic attack, the fire yesterday…"" And that's what you mean by terrifying," Weaver says, solemnly nodding.

"Because it's not going to stop. And as far as you know–"" I'm immortal, yeah," I finish the thought.

"I think I have some tools to help manage it, but since I'm not actually that old yet, I can't tell if that's what they're really for." Weaver gives me a confused look before recognition flashes on her face.

"You've said something about your memories sticking in your head," She says, pointing at me.

"Even with all that, I still think I should be jealous," She admits." Who knows," I shrug, "You might end up like me. I don't know how ghosts happen." And I'd prefer not to lose her friendship. She goes silent for a moment.

"So, what were you reading?" She ends up saying, blatantly changing the subject."' The Unsolved Type,' specifically the section on ghosts," I tell her, deciding that she's right, and the previous topic might have gotten a little too heavy.

"Not sure I like it. I was about to move on to one of the books on myths."" You want to see that celebi again," She says, teasingly.

"Do you maybe have a little crush? Should I be worried about you and Leaf? Do you possibly have a thing for grass-types?"" Mmm. Yes. Chlorophyll," I flatly reply, although I can't help a small smile working its way to my face.

"I just– I know I'm forgetting something important about celebi. Maybe reading the lore about them will give me what I need to reconstruct the memory." Weaver hums, nodding.

"How does that work, now that you bring it up? How can you forget things if your memory is perfect?" Um… How do I even attempt to explain?

"Well, how do you remember things?" I ask her, trying to put my thoughts together. The cat-weasel blinks at me.

"I just do?" She says, sounding more like she's asking herself that." Yeah, but when you remember something, it's not perfect, right?" I query. She slowly nods.

"And when you can't remember something, you know you're forgetting it, but just can't put it together."" Right…" Weaver confirms, now thoughtful." All of my memories are perfect, now. Except that the ones I have from before I died didn't magically get brought back, they're all still mostly in the state they were when I died. But," I say, wishing I had a finger to raise.

"That's just it, they're still the same. In every way. So if I can jog them–"" You might be able to actually remember whatever it is," Weaver finishes.

"Definitely jealous now."" I don't think I can trust that kind of memory too much," I caution, "But I can tell what's reconstructed that way from what's not, so it isn't that big a deal. Hell, I had to do that to remember that celebi time-travel in the first place."" That still sounds a bit out there," Weaver chuckles.

"But you're the one with possible knowledge of the future."" Wait, hold on, THEY WHAT?!" Right Dodrio squawks, going from barely paying attention to swiveling around. Middle head starts laughing.

"Have you not been listenin' to them?" She asks between gasps.

"Are you just thinkin' about all the food in here again? Is that why we're so hungry?" She turns her head to point one eye at me, "You keep being weird, Hon'. It's good entertainment." Of course, Dodrio's behavior catches Onaga's attention, the woman shifting in her saddle to look back at us. She holds on me longer than Weaver before seemingly deciding not to say anything. There are, however, the tastes of curiosity and uncertainty, followed by her once again definitely changing that to feelings of support.

Consciously.

"You know, she felt pretty good about how much the two of you talked yesterday," Weaver offhandedly comments. I know. We… I really need to work on being part of the team. It's pretty clear I'm the issue. It's been clear for a while. I'm not entirely alone there, of course. Onaga really might be a bit too outwardly stoic and patient, but the fact that I know that about her probably says enough.

"Well, I guess, sorry about being so distant," I say, directing my words at Onaga.

"I promise it's not on purpose."

"And are you going to live up to that?" Weaver questions, letting go of my arm.

"…We'll see," I sigh.