I never know what inspires me, ya'll. xDDD

Ever.

But here is, I suppose, Akatsukishipping? It can be viewed as platonic though. Because. Platonic love is the best.

And if I owned Pokemon, I'm afraid... it'd be quite a bit different.

i.
Once, when she was young, she could remember a man with dark circles under his eyes, ashen skin, and hollow cheeks.

She could remember thinking of him as dead.

She could remember wanting to stop him, to end his madness…

She remembered wanting to reach out and grasp his hand. To lead him back to the light and tell him everything was going to be okay.

As a child, she had wanted to teach him how to love.

ii.
She sighed, tired of her title. Cynthia was the closest to her power still and she definitely overshadowed the woman—as much as she enjoyed the ex-champion's company, she wanted to pass on her title.

She could remember the freedom of being unknown, of being this child that everyone underestimated.

But she was a woman now, so much older.

But she was still young.

He hadn't been that much older than twenty-three, she realized.

And he had seemed old, too.

iii.
She was tired of waiting for his return. She had already given him so long.

Every hero needs a villain. He was hers.

She missed him. Him and the old Team Galactic and the arrogant Saturn, the pompous Jupiter, the ever-so-odd Mars. But times were different now.

She had returned to the mountain.

She simply stared at where the portal had once opened up and reached.

iv.
She returned to the mountain so often, sometimes challengers would search her out there.

She didn't like them to do that, she realized. She preferred it to be a place of his memories… So she'd reject them. She would turn from them, she would step deeper into the cold, and rumors soon began to spread.

"She's seeing someone." They said. "She's losing it." Others added.

v.
"Hey, hey, hey, they're getting worried. What's going on?"

She met Barry's eyes, the man still as everywhere as he had always been. He was used to her silence as well and, grinning, reached out and grabbed her hand.

"It's gonna be okay, kay? C'mon, you can't be late, I'll make you pay a million dollars!"

She returned the grip, letting him lead her away, before falling into step and reliving a time that seemed to be a lifetime ago.

vi.
Finally, one day, as she dozed off against the rocks, there was a loud noise, a whirr.

Dazed, she forced herself up. And there was the portal.

"Giratina." She whispered softly. And that was all she said as she stepped through into the darkness.

vii.
She wasn't sure how long she searched, how far she went. The world was familiar though, she had revisited it often in her dreams.

She was stepping off the rising waterfall when Giratina appeared. She blinked at it and it called out at her, causing her to slip and fall. It caught her and she leaned against its cold skin. "Thank you." It didn't seem to be enough but the pokemon accepted it, carrying her somewhere she d—

There he was.

He barely looked older. There was some grey in her hair that she knew couldn't have been there then.

He turned and blinked, his eyes not quite as frightening or cold as she remembered.

Just old.

viii.
She stepped down and Giratina left.

Cyrus' eyes had hardened more by now, narrowed. He was trying to figure her out, she realized… And was hurt. But she also forgave him in a moment, the place making her feel more like a child than she had been in a while. "Hello." Her voice was so hoarse from lack of use; she hoped he could understand her. "It's… it's me. I don't think you ever learned my name."

She wasn't entirely sure what else to add but his eyes morphed with recognition and he scoffed, "It hasn't been that long, she was just a child."

"The only other person who came here was Cynthia." She croaked, "I see you've given up on your new world."

He glared at her a moment, studying her, before his face smoothed over. Blank. Just as it had been in her memories. "Are you still meddling in things larger than you?"

A dry smile was probably reply enough but… she felt like speaking to him. More than she had felt like she wanted to any other person. "Not because I want to."

They lapsed into a silence. It was neither comfortable nor awkward.

Finally, she asked, "Are you ready to come back?"

And he nodded.

ix.
There was an uproar when she brought him back, the only person truly understanding being Cynthia.

Barry and Rowan tried to understand, though. They did.

She protected him though. She did. She shielded him from the critics, the gossipers. She mustered every ounce of charisma she owned, she tried intimidation, she pleaded with them on an emotional level.

More rumors spread.

She decided it was time to ignore them.

x.
"Why?" He asked one day and she turned, blinking at him in confusion. His frown was slight, barely changing his expression, but still there. "Why," he clarified, "are you defending me?"

For a long moment, she couldn't answer. She honestly couldn't.

After all, she was the hero in this story and he was her villain.

She was supposed to take him down.

She wasn't supposed to protect him.

When she had her answer he had seemed to turn away, uninterested.

But her voice was clear when she replied, "Because everyone deserves a second chance."

And she at last understood just what had bothered her for all those years.