I want to present the story The Most Foolish Guy to you, my readers! I want to thank Deviantart accountant peo9411 for letting me post the story here on Fanfiction! All credit goes to her, and originally, this story was in Chinese. Warning though; there is character death. This story was also inspired to create my twist of it, Lost Voice and Life. I do not own Pokémon or its characters. Also, I edited the story to match the normal English language.
Original author: Angela_rin
Translator: Cinna
Sound of turning the handle ringing, Emmet opens his eyes. A black figure comes into sight.
"Ingo, welcome back."
Emmet slightly straightens out from the bed, pleased to see the visitor. Ingo comes up to the bed and sat down. His eye focuses on the medicine bottle on the night table. The liquid level of the content is as high as what it was yesterday. "You didn't take the medicine, Emmet. Is something wrong?"
Giving a glance at that brown mid-sized bottle, Emmet lowers his head and chuckles. Just like a kid caught doing something wrong, he picks the bottle up and fidgeted it. "This? It's too bitter for me. I feel very sick to drink it, without sweets as buffers."
"You are not a kid, Emmet." Neglecting Ingo, Emmet goes on, "…what's worse, the daily treatment." Unclear about what he wanted to convey, Ingo keeps silent to wait. Emmet doesn't say anything to follow, only to toy with the bottle.
The dark liquid rattled as the bottle shakes again and again, resounding in the room in a silent tone. "Say, do you love me, Ingo?" Perhaps surprised by the absurd question, Ingo doesn't react at once, but Emmet still talks to himself.
"How do you love me, physically, or mentally…?
"You fool." Ingo cuts in impatiently, annoyed with his abrupt, ridiculous questions.
Emmet opened the bottle quietly, gazing at the liquid. The black liquid surface in the bottle reflects the dim light quietly and images the face of him, emaciated and pale, which gives an illusion of solid.
Seemed to be determined, he sucks the opening, raises his head and drinks all the lotion.
Acute bitterness spreads across taste buds, and the next second fills all the mouth, crashing down to the stomach. Contraction rushes out of his throat, and Emmet frowns subconsciously, struggling to restrain sickness. Putting down the bottle, he screws the lid back on. He gives a look at Ingo, exhales greatly in relieve. "It's really bitter." He rubs liquid off his mouth, and smiles bitterly.
"What happened, Emmet?" Noticing something different, Ingo slightly frowns. Emmet puts the bottle back and leans against the bed again, tilting his head to one side. "I'm OK, Ingo. Don't worry about me!"
Faint light casts on his colorless face, making it paler morbidly. After the bitterness disappeared out in his mouth, his look softens. He slowly closes eyes. With a side look at his sound-sleeping younger brother, Ingo rises and goes out of the room, heading back home. The chilling wind catching up in the atmosphere, Ingo turns up the collar of his coat and picks up the pace.
After work, Ingo goes to the hospital to visit Emmet every day. "I hope you could visit him as often as possible, Mr. Ingo. Personally I think it's beneficial to his recovery." That was what the attending doctor told Ingo in private, on the day when Emmet went into hospital.
"Ingo~" Opening the door gently, Ingo saw the patient getting up, purring like a kitten just wakened. Coming to Emmet's bed side, Ingo checks the liquid in the medicine bottle. "I'm taking the medicine everyday as told~" said Emmet. He widens his mouth as if he is longing for praise. Indeed, since then, the liquid level begins to go down regularly.
In addition, he hasn't complained about the bitterness any more, and it seems that he starts to cooperate with doctors to take such severe treatment, living with unbearable pain. "Working is tiring, right?" Staring at his elder brother, Emmet says in a very faint voice, which is mingled with a kind of sharp smell of hydrogen peroxide belonging to that space.
Since Emmet fell in sickness, both double battle line and multi battle line have to be closed down. As a result, a number of challengers swarm into the single line. Although some approached have been conducted, challenges which Ingo have to receive are still a lot. Single battle hours have to be prolonged. Admittedly, he is a stoic Subway Boss, though; Emmet sees his brother's tiredness from his identical cerulean eyes.
"Thus, come back to the position." Emmet replies nothing as if he was talking in sleep. He lies down, fixing the blanket himself, with eyes open. "A coward you are." Ingo remarks smoothly.
Every time Ingo visits Emmet, the younger sibling usually goes to cloakroom to wash his hands carefully. Sometimes he noticed some dark drips in the sink. Diluted by stream, they vanished down to the sewer.
He rubs his hands with tissue, throwing damp rubbish into the bin, and leaves the restroom for the ward. Hearing the approaching footsteps, Emmet turns around, to the closed door. "Ingo~"
Calling the name of the visitor gently, he greets as happily as usual. "Can you help me open the dessert on the table, Ingo?" He turns his head bizarrely, to his brother above him. "Someone gave it to me, but I cannot open it."
Ingo takes up the dessert. With the tearing down of the swelling plastic bag, the nitrogen is released to the air through the sudden-formed split. On the meantime, a little fortune cookie appears in the bag as a butterfly wearing thick wings.
Ignoring his talking, Emmet receives the golden butterfly from Ingo. He gnaws the thin but crisp shell selfishly, before stretching the paper wrapping in the weak crust. "God will give a hand to who deserve it." Reading those vague words quietly, he bursts into laughter. Shells made from egg patty soften in the mouth, followed with a savory taste.
The condition of Emmet deteriorates day by day. However no one knows why. He takes the dose every day, at least the medicine's content decreases regularly. Ingo finds those little black drips again. They silently gather there and rushed away by water down to the sewer. "Is it interesting, using such a cheap trick? You fool!"
"It's of use although it's kids' trick. I'm so happy that I don't need to bear such bitterness anymore."
Ingo starts to force Emmet take medicine everyday then.
To Emmet, the approaching footstep has become the most fearful sound. He doesn't call his brother's name gently, and cover his head with blanket, leaving his back to the door instead. He even believes that Ingo is bitter, dark and freezing cold as the medicine, what's more, which makes he feel sick.
Emmet is lost. When people finds him in the avenue thousands meters far from the hospital, he is faint for a long time. Nobody can explain how he walked for such a long distance under the freezing temperature in winter, for he seldom leaves his bed in the hospital. The motivation is unclear, either.
When discovered, he huddles himself up in a corner of an alley because of chilliness. Livid appears on the face which used to be pale, and the skin is as cold as ice.
"I'm totally fed up with living on treatment, really." Gazing at the ceiling, Emmet twitches his mouth ironically.
"Is it okay, Mr. Ingo?"
"That is what he chooses," he says, "and it's no use stopping him." As the brother of Emmet he knows it for certain—just like Emmet reading his tiredness from his eyes clearly.
"You funny fool. Emmet."
Out of the church, a little annoy occurs to him. He places a cigarette in between his lips and fires it up. The thick smoke produced by the burning tobacco rises in front of him, gradually obscures the world. He suddenly realizes that he was irritated by the smoke and begins to cough painfully, throwing away the cigarette.
You are the most foolish guy I've ever met, Emmet.
I was listening to Proof of Life, by Rin Kagamine, to help me cruse along the actual translation. The translation peo9411 did is somewhat average, but I manage to figure it out. The link to the actual story is located in a section of my profile called "My Story References." Don't forget to leave a review once you are done reading. Do you like this story? Want to see more inspired writers' work being shared? Hit that favorite/follow button for the author! Now, I hope this story didn't make your day a tiny bit depressing…