A/N: Okay, technically day 5. Like I said, few things got out of order here due to time and inspiration constraints. Hoping to catch back up tonight and tomorrow.
This one gets a warning for implied child abuse. I don't know when my Gen 5 headcanons started getting so dark, but yeah. Warning.
Bianca was prone to crying at little or no provocation.
Just the same, Hilda had always been there to dry her tears. Very seldom did she even question what had sent the blonde, her best friend for as long as she could remember, into hysterics. She would always just hug her, stroke her hair, and tell her things were going to be okay. No problem – not skinned knees, not a Mincinno stealing her first pokeball, not Cheren rejecting her valentine gift in sixth grade – had ever been too much for Hilda to solve with a little patience and affection.
In more recent years, she'd made an effort to help Bianca cope on her own. They weren't children anymore, and with their pokemon journeys looming on the horizon, it'd become obvious that Hilda wouldn't always be around to soothe her friend. She still rushed to her aid at the first sign of tears, however – just that she met her with a soft hold of her hand and kind words of encouragement, urging her to calm down, rather than the smothering embrace of years past.
Hilda knew that Bianca's father had forbidden her to leave, the day Juniper delivered their pokemon. Cheren likely knew it too, but it was like him to stay out of other people's problems, both out of self-absorbtion and a sense that everyone else should have the same sort of self-reliance he did.
"Your dad changed his mind?" the brunette had whispered eagerly, out of their other friend's ear shot, as they clutched their new pokeballs with all the protectiveness and affection a mother would their newborn infant.
"S-sort of," Bianca had answered, not meeting her eyes. She gave a quiet shiver, one hand slipping up her arm to hide the darkening finger marks
For as much as Hilda had wanted to raise hell over the situation, to be angry at her friend for lying and outraged at her father for providing the situation that had lead to her horrible decision, she instead felt an inexplicable sort of pride rise in her. The nerve it would take to run away from home, to leave on a pokemon journey despite her father's explicit orders, was extraordinary and certainly beyond what the tomboy thought Bianca capable of. Her only fear, as she reached over and gave her arm what she hoped was a soft, comforting squeeze, was that the possibility Bianca wouldn't ask her for help if she needed it. She'd been subtly pushing her to stand on her own, and the tiny, forced smile flashed her way made her afraid she'd succeeded at exactly the wrong time.
By the time they arrived in Nimbasa two months later, Bianca's luck had run out. The news had run a report when her Munna had been captured in Castelia; as it was, she'd barely been staying one step ahead of her father, but he'd been able to cut her off at the pass with no effort. That Hilda was with her when he found her seemed like her last thread of luck; her hand was out and ready for her before she even reached for it, the color drained from her face at the sight of him.
Maybe some of Hilda's luck rubbed off on her in that instant, because Elesa's appearance felt like nothing short of a miracle, and her way with words seemed to calm Bianca's controlling father before he had a chance to bring her to tears.
Those came later, the two snuggled together in a ferris wheel car as Bianca sobbed into her friend's arms.
For once, Hilda didn't try to shush her, didn't tell her things would be okay. For the first time, she felt truly scared things wouldn't be alright, at least not any time soon, but she knew better than to say so. Instead she just quietly brushed her fingers through the blonde's hair, her lips pressed silently to her forehead as she did her best to hold her own tears back.