AN: the song for the chapter is actually one of the songs I listened to most when I was writing Kindred Souls. Cover image credit goes to doodleblah on Tumblr (I won a raffle contest so I requested them).
Song: 'Waiting for Love' by Avicii
The rest of the day was spent parked on the sofa, but with more talking. He talked about his team, and how he met each one. She talked about her two best friends, who were like brothers to her because she was an only child. One of them wanted to be a Pokémon researcher, and the other was in the Battle Frontier of Sinnoh making a name for himself. He talked about his mom, and how she had raised him on her own with enough love to make up for a missing dad. She talked about her cousin, who was also like a brother to her, but so busy that she rarely got to see him.
He was in the middle of talking about Cheren and Bianca – honestly, they were like siblings to him, but at the same time it was a little weird seeing all the mutual crushes towards each other and being the third wheel sometimes – when Dawn yawned.
"Pardon," she mumbled, and Hilbert remembered that although she'd had bags under her eyes for as long as he could remember, that wasn't supposed to be normal.
"You need sleep," he said.
Dawn tried to wave him off. "No need to worry," she began, but Hilbert wouldn't have it.
"Sleep," he said firmly, putting all the authority of a Champion behind it.
Not that it had much of an effect. She just blinked blearily at him back, but nodded and began to make her way to her room. Hilbert stayed behind a little – to turn the television and lights off, and grab a glass of water – before he made his way upstairs as well. Dawn's bedroom door was already shut, so he went into his own room. He needed to take his own advice, now that he thought about it. The battle had been a nice break from the marathon of watching everything and anything on the channels, but it hadn't been enough to let his eyes and brain recover from the experience of being a couch potato.
So Hilbert didn't appreciate it when, the moment he closed his eyes to fall unconscious, he found himself lucid dreaming.
No, not lucid dreaming. The term implied that he had some control over what he did in the dream. This . . .
This was just being forced to have a meeting with something he didn't want to face within himself.
He should have known, should have seen this coming. Reshiram had been too quiet recently, and with the white dragon of truth finally saying something – even if it was to accuse him of being a liar – and breaking the prolonged silence between them for the first time since his fit, Hilbert should have seen this talk coming.
Maybe he did. He just hadn't wanted to worry about it, not when he could have relaxed and talked and just be normal.
Just be normal, and not alone.
In the space of his mind, a vast world both infinite and severely limited at once, Hilbert crossed his arms and glowered at Reshiram. The dragon of truth was tall and majestic, the same size it had been during their battle against N and Zekrom. It was the only spot of pure white, like how Hilbert was the only spot of color, in this pitch-black world that was the meeting room for his soul and the freeloader.
If it could – that is, if it could bend its dignity enough to match Hilbert – Reshiram would have been crossing its arms and glowering right back at Hilbert. As it was, the dragon only gazed at him with eyes the color of a cool blue.
"What," he ground out. Reshiram's white feather-like fur fluttered faster, though there was no wind here. Its face remained impassive, but Hilbert could tell it was angry, or at the very least frustrated with him. Sometimes Hilbert wondered how he and Reshiram had managed to defeat N and Zekrom. Maybe it was just a fluke that led to their victory over the Ideals. A part of him hoped that N wouldn't point that out, and come back for a rematch.
(Another part of him, however, did. And was more than willing to forfeit the match this time around. Hilbert tried to put that part of himself down, but sometimes it really was a tempting thought to entertain.)
I have put up with your silence, Reshiram began. With you shutting me away to a corner of your mind so you could throw yourself into your mortal life. Humans live short periods of time, and to demand their total, unconditional dedication to something is impossible. This I understand.
Hilbert listened. He was going to get chewed out for having 'lied' to Dawn, even though he hadn't really intended on it. Best to just get it over with – the dragon of truth didn't appreciate liars, after all.
But, Reshiram said, voice getting rougher. You lie? You erase my presence altogether for yourself? You discount me from one of yours? Have you forgotten, my Avatar, that you are mine as I am yours? You dare hide the Truth? And from her?!
He was willing to listen to Reshiram's ranting, because a part of him did recognize that he was at fault, but the last words from the dragon made him pause. "Hold up, what?"
Reshiram huffed. Ignorant boy, the dragon of truth growled. This – this is why you should not have shut the Truth out. It has left you sadly lacking, unable to discern the world in proper as you should.
Hilbert ignored Reshiram calling him dumb, because it essentially boiled down to Reshiram having a problem with Dawn. And Reshiram didn't really care all that much about other people. When he nearly burnt Cheren and Bianca with flames that should never come in contact with mortal flesh, Reshiram's reaction had been unimpressed, to say the least. The closest thing to attention Reshiram had shown to another human being had been N, and only to note that Zekrom's Avatar looked thin enough to snap into two.
So why the deal over Dawn being lied to? "What's special about Dawn?"
Even as he asked, he was drawing up details in his head. She was special because she made him feel normal. Because she was a great trainer, strong enough to push even a Champion, young and inexperienced as he was. Because her Pokémon loved her, clearly. Because she made him relax, and just loosen up, and forget about what he had to remember.
She was special . . . because he couldn't discern the Truth from her like he could with everyone else.
Reshiram's mouth curled up in a sneer. Find out yourself, the dragon said darkly, and then disappeared.
Hilbert swore, and meant every last expletive he projected through his face.
Alright. So. Reshiram had some kind of issue with what Hilbert had done. He doubted that Dawn was somehow Reshiram's sworn nemesis. As far as he knew – which was admittedly little, but still more than before this whole Avatar fiasco thing came around – Reshiram had no such nemesis. The closest thing that came to it would be Zekrom, as Reshiram's other half, counterpart, rival, et cetera.
And if it had been his interactions with Dawn that annoyed Reshiram, the dragon would have made its opinions clear to Hilbert much earlier on.
So scratch that.
If it was Dawn being an anti-Truth kind of thing, then again, Reshiram would have reacted earlier on, taking offense at her very presence being near its Avatar. So that couldn't be it either.
But Dawn's influence on him? Maybe that was it – Reshiram did not appreciate her essentially giving Hilbert a chance to lie, even though it technically wasn't a lie.
That sounded more likely, but it didn't explain Reshiram specifically pointing her out. Like she was someone special.
Which she was. Beyond all the stuff her presence helped him with, he meant. Because to ignore Reshiram's power, passively resting inside him as it was? That was something no normal person could do. Ever since he had gotten it, after Reshiram broke the shell and woke up to the age that came after the time of magic and miracles died and put a piece of the past's mythical powers into him, there had been no one he couldn't pull the truth out of.
Hilbert ran a hand through his hair messily. His opinion, and like or dislike of Reshiram didn't matter at this point. The fact that Reshiram had singled Dawn out meant she was important.
It was no longer a time to just enjoy Dawn's mysteriousness. Tomorrow morning, when he woke up, he would mention something – not lie, just not give her the whole Truth – before asking her why that might be. He'd actively try to use his Truth powers, too, instead of passively letting them run around – but not enough to pull the flames out. Not those again, never those again.
This, he knew, might break this tranquil, ethereal thing they had. This might signal the end to the vacation time. This might be him taking a hammer to something he found and grew to love very much with his own two hands.
And Hilbert absolutely hated it, and himself, for having to do just that.
