Piplup

He wished he could see the stars. After everything that happened, that was the least that he wanted. Just to glimpse up and watch the night sky, to get lost in the countless bright dots above. It was the least he wanted, but all he really needed right now. Just the simplicity of a clear sky, just once tonight, so he could concentrate on something other than the hollow ringing in his heart.

To say it hurt was an understatement. It stung, a pinch harder than the sharpest thorn could ever tug at the skin. Dug deep, a rose without petals rolling back and forth against his chest. He wanted to scream, cry, rage into the dark of the night without a second thought to distract him from the blind fury he intended to release upon the world. Every trace of his being wanted to tear it all down, scorch the ground and start from scratch. Yet even as these thoughts raced in his head, even as his muscles tightened with preparedness at the idea of destruction in the name of the fallen, he could do nothing but slouch. His body and mind may have been ready for wicked acts, but his soul remained sequestered, locking up the movement he required to begin his rampage.

There may not have been any stars to guide him into the dark, but there were plenty of leaves above him that shadowed the tears streaming down his cheeks. Froakie. Of everyone who could have been taken away, it was Froakie. And it seemed that, not even a few minutes after he was gone, the whole world had moved on without him. Charmander, Torchic, and Chikorita seemed more invested in what these Wardens—what his brother's killer—had to say about a secret war beneath the Nations than in Froakie's demise. It sickened him. Like there was some kind of a rot he couldn't see or touch, something that hadn't caught up to him quite yet, but had infected his friends just fine. Maybe faced with the truth their hearts hardened. Maybe that was the way things were going to be from now on.

If that was the case, then would anyone miss him when he died?

He sighed. There was no point dwelling on their lack of empathy. Screw them. If they were going to be more interested in Wardens than they were the death of their friend, it wasn't his fault that they were so misguided. All that mattered at this point was that, in some capacity, his memory remained. Unlike the tears that slid down his face, Froakie would never slide out of his heart. Even when the seas burned and the stars fell, they would be brothers. Even if one of them had been lain to rest, had made an unceremonious journey to the dirt, history would remember their comradery. Piplup would make sure of it. They shared an unbreakable bond not even death could trample upon. It was far from enough, but by holding it close in that moment, perhaps he could pretend for a second it was.

Rustling from behind him, too big to be any of his companions. He turned, swift, barring his beak and curling his flipper into a makeshift fist. Glancing around, he tried to make out whatever shape was roaming around in the darkness. Eyes strained, he glared, doing his best to catch the figure sneaking up on him. They had, evidently, not done a very good job of it. Piplup intended to make them well aware of that.

A bright blue flame caught his attention, until he realized it wasn't a flame at all. It was a glow of some kind, radiating a warm aura that didn't feel entirely like fire. The newfound object was illuminating from the creature that had rustled behind him, a creature now standing in front of him. Piplup glared. "Come to finish me off, too, huh?" he asked. "Well, go for it. Now's your chance."

Lucario shook his head. He bent down, slow, turning his palm over. The light followed suit, the small, aqua luminescence giving the ground he ran it above a temporary blue glow. It was transfixing to watch, but not so much so that Piplup forgot who he was looking at. Lucario, meanwhile, had found what he'd been searching for. He picked up the small stick with his unused hand, gripping it tight with his paw. Standing, he placed the top tip of the stick into his blue flame. There was a faint hissing sound as the stick and the light made contact, a little tendril of smoke rising up from the twig. The blue from his palm suddenly went out, but that same azure light now sprung up from the stick. It was small at first, but after a few silent seconds, the flame grew brighter, revealing Lucario's red eyes and serious face peering out of the dark.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "I just came to talk."

"What's there to talk about?" Piplup scoffed. He turned away from the blue light, keeping his eyes basked in the dark. "You and this war of yours got Froakie killed. And besides, you already know what you did to my brother."

Lucario was silent for a few moments. "I know," he said, "that you don't trust me. And you have every right not to. Especially after what I did to you. If I were you, I would never trust me for as long as I lived. But, if you could, forget about me. Forget I'm even here and focus on the bigger picture. Focus on your part to play in all of this, while relinquishing me of mine."

"I can't forget you're here. Not when I see you killing him every time I look at you."

He didn't even know if he meant Froakie or Prinplup.

The Fighting Nation Senator had fallen silent behind him once more. He heard a breath, as if he were about to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. A long eon of quiet stretched by before Lucario, heaving a breath into his lungs, finally built up the gall to say something else. "You…you saw it?"

Enraged, Piplup swung around. "Of course I saw it!" he snapped. "What do you think, I would be this upset if I didn't!? I watched you punch a hole through my brother's chest. I watched you impale him on the Pinprick Peaks! I saw the blood and life drain from his body. What kind of a question is that? Did I see it? Of course I saw it! I see it every day, every night, every waking moment, up until right now, because right now, all I see is the rotten bastard who took my family away from me!"

Shaking he drew in a breath. "I will never understand this world. I have dreamed, have literally dreamed of tearing your throat out. Of taking you apart, limb-by-limb, and using your corpse as a training dummy. Even that isn't the worst fantasy I've been able to come up with in the worst moments of my life after you took Prinplup away from me. But now, now everything's changed. Because all this time, all these years of wanting to avenge my brother have been for nothing."

Piplup turned away again. "You're a monster," he said. "But you're a Warden."

"And that changes things?"

Piplup whirled again, this time looking at Lucario like he was crazy. He wanted to say that it did, but the words were caught in his throat. For a moment he wondered why, until realization washed over him. What did it matter that his brother's killer was now technically on his side when he killed his brother all the same? Why not, in fact, slit Lucario's throat right here, right now and be done with it? Something made him want to leap up and, with as much strength as his flipper could muster, gash his way through Lucario's arteries in a vivid display of passionate revenge. But something else made him stand his ground, gave him pause in the moment and reminded him to keep his wits about him. They were in uncharted territory now, being guided by figures they truly didn't care all that much about—especially the one standing before him right now. But just because revenge was a path he would follow didn't mean it had to be one of swift, loud ease. Perhaps it would be better to listen before jumping to conclusive, damaging action.

"It…does," he said, careful.

Lucario chuckled. "No, it doesn't," he scoffed. "I can read the look in your eyes like a book. You were just thinking of killing me right now, but because you have no idea what this war between Wardens and Reapers has in store, you're holding off until you can get more information."

Piplup shivered. Lucario dropped his gaze. "In a way I guess I deserve it," he admitted. "But I'm not going to let you think I'm stupid."

"I don't think you are. That's why I haven't cut your throat yet."

Lucario's eyed him, surprised. Then a small smile formed on his snout. "I'm glad someone like you inherited the powers of the Guardians," he said. "I'd rather a Pokémon who harnesses his rage and buys time instead of one who charges in with blind vengeance."

"I think you're getting the wrong impression of me."

"I doubt it. You couldn't have survived this long and made it this far from your home Nation after what happened if you just ran into trouble headfirst without a plan."

"I want to," Piplup admitted. "Actually, you have no idea just how much I want to say 'screw it' and kill you, right here, right now. But Froakie, his vendetta was never against you. Nobody has a reason to hurt you except me. So, for right now, we're allies. So until the people closest to me decide having you around isn't worth it anymore, I won't kill you. But don't think that absolves you of anything. Because we both know the truth. You killed my brother, deliberately, all for the sake of a Nation you've since abandoned for a war nobody knows about."

Lucario looked down. His feet shifted a little, his face taking on a serious, knowing look. Piplup hadn't expected this reaction, hadn't expected a reaction at all, really. To see him act as he did now, a look of what almost seemed like remorse in his eyes, was suspicious to say the least. "What is it?" he asked. "You look like you're about to tell me something I don't want to hear."

The former Senator looked up, opened his mouth, then closed it in consideration. He sounded like he was choosing his words carefully as he spoke. "You're right. I have something to say. But given everything you've already experienced today, to lay another burden on you now would be unfair."

"Who gives a shit about fairness anymore?" Piplup stepped forward a bit, getting only a little bit closer to Lucario's semi-nervous visage. "You might as well tell me, since my life's gone to hell anyway."

"But this isn't something you're going to want to hear. It might be best—for now, at least—that you live with whatever idealized lie you've been living with since that day."

Piplup felt his heart skip a beat. He could only hope is face was stonier than the panic now wresting and writhing in his chest. "Is it about Prinplup?" he asked.

Lucario turned away, heaved a great sigh out of his lungs. "I know you'll think I'm lying," he said, "but I need you to understand that I'm not. That I don't want you to know the truth because of what it could do to you. To your vision. To what you've been working towards in the confined, secret lockbox of your heart this entire time. Because let's face it, every step of this journey, I've been there in the back of your mind, haven't I? Don't look away! You know it's true. But if I tell you the truth, then that will destroy everything you've been fighting for up to this point. Every piece of you will hate me for more than just killing your brother, but for killing his memory as well."

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Piplup rasped.

Lucario looked down at his feet. "I didn't kill your brother to protect my Nation," he muttered. "I did it to protect all of them."

The furious rage, his need to pour fuel on the world and light it with fire, spilled over. "No," he said. "You're lying. That's not true! That's bullshit!"

"This is why I didn't want to tell you."

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You piece of shit, you asshole! You're a damn liar! Is this your thing, huh? Coming after me for whatever sick reason, making me want to kill you? Because you're doing a damn good job of it!"

"I was telling you the truth because there's no reason you shouldn't know. Because living with a lie for the rest of your life would be tantamount to putting on a blindfold and calling it a day. I don't believe in that, and I have a funny feeling you don't either."

Piplup shook his head, glared at Lucario. This wasn't a Senator of honor and dignity. This was a demon, a traitor to his own truth. What a pathetic waste of a powerful warrior. But that wasn't important. Not as prevalent a thought as those running through his head right now, making him see red, hardening his flipper which he started to raise as his feet began to kick up dirt in his perilous charge towards the only enemy he had anymore, the only enemy he wanted to demolish and destroy with every fiber of his being. It was one thing to murder Prinplup in cold blood. It was another to lie and tarnish his name. For that, Lucario would pay with his life.

…So then why weren't his feet moving?

"Piplup!"

A shout, emanating from behind his brother's killer. Lucario turned around, waving the blue flame in front of him to see who was approaching. Piplup, however, had already recognized her voice. Chikorita stepped out from the shadows. Even in the dim light, Piplup could see the tear tracks glowing on her cheeks. His heart skipped a beat seeing her, guilt crawling into it soon after. How could he have come out here, thinking that no one was grieving for Froakie, when Chikorita had lost almost as much as he had? Hell, she had lost more than just a sibling and a friend. She had lost a sibling, a lover, and her father. What kind of a world was this when someone as heartfelt as her, as protective as her, could have everything mercilessly stripped away without a moment's notice? Not a world that deserved the innocent, that was for sure.

Lucario and her locked eyes for a moment. Then he sighed. "I'm sorry," he flung over his shoulder. "But like I said. There was a reason I didn't want to tell you." With those parting words, he walked back through the darkness, the blue flame slowly shrinking as he made his way back to the campfire.

They watched him go for a moment. Piplup's chest tightened as Chikorita turned towards him (now he could just barely make out her outline) and asked, "What did he mean by that?"

Piplup could do nothing but shake his head. "It's not important," he muttered.

"It didn't seem that way to me."

"Just drop it."

Chikorita stepped closer. "What?"

"I said just drop it, okay!?"

He heard her take another step forward. "No," she said. "I'm not going to just drop it. You're feeling this more than any of us. More than I could even imagine. So come back over to the fire, Piplup. Come back to us."

"No," he said, firm in his conviction. "No, I won't. Not with him still there. Not with…not after today's gone the way it has."

"One bad day is all it takes to break," Chikorita admitted. "But one good moment is all it takes to mend."

Piplup shook his head. "How can you be so optimistic at a time like this?"

"Because it's what Froakie would have wanted. Do you think he'd want to see you isolating yourself from us? That's practically the same as giving up everything we've been working towards."

"But we were working towards it with him." Piplup stepped forward as well. "We were all going to make it out of this, together. And now, now he's just gone, Chikorita. And he's never coming back. I'll never be able to tell him how much I appreciated him, and you'll never tell him you love him ever again. He'll never, never see the world get better. He'll never see Feraligatr get what he deserves for what he did to our home. And he'll never be able to deliver the final blow that saves everyone he's always wanted to save. So what's the point in doing it if he's not around anymore to see what we've done?"

Piplup turned his back on her. "Just leave me alone already. What is it with everyone feeling the need to come sneaking up on me in the dark?"

No sound came from behind him. Not until she spoke, soft: "I'm worried about you is all."

"Don't be," he said. "And don't waste your breath trying to convince me to come back. I'll come back when I'm ready to."

There was silence behind him once again. Then, rustling from somewhere behind even Chikorita. He sighed. Lucario could try all he wanted to drag him back to the fire, but it wasn't going to work. If Chikorita couldn't do it, then what made the Senator think he could move the process along any faster? Piplup turned, looking out behind Chikorita, searching for the blue light. But it appeared Lucario had snubbed it out, hiding himself somewhere in the shadows. "I know you're there, Lucario!" Piplup shouted. "You come back to shit on everything I've known with even more lies!?"

"Piplup, quiet," Chikorita urged.

"Why? Not like he doesn't know where we are."

"That's not him."

Before he could ask what she meant, he saw the shadow of her outline crouch down. He followed suit without question, peering into the night as he sunk to the forest floor. At first there was nothing, and his beak began to open in questioning reluctance. Then he saw the outline step forward, just as blind in the dark as they were. A pulse now hammered in his throat as the beast began making its way closer to the duo. Even in the dark, Piplup could imagine its gaping jaws trying to ram themselves into him. He could even feel it in his chest, the place where what felt like forever ago one of them had pierced him with its claw.

Without hesitation, he jumped up. Even as Chikorita's cry of protest rang in his ears, his flipper melded to the unknown metal that ran through his body. Perhaps, he thought as he gouged out the approaching Gabite's eye, this was the power the Reapers wanted from him. Maybe his silver flipper was part of the puzzle Froakie would never get to solve, the one they would have to pursue for his sake and nothing more. They want my power, huh? He ran the flipper down the Gabite's face as a blood-curdling scream emitted from its throat. Well then, guess I'll have to give it to them.

A sickening crunch left the Gabite's jaw, as did its life force from its body. He hopped down, flicking his flipper, droplets of unseen blood splattering the forest floor with small pattering sounds. Chikorita didn't need to tell him to keep low after what he'd just done. He understood it because this wasn't their first battle with these animals. So, staying low, he listened in the darkness. Rustling was coming from behind them now. He turned, but just as he did so, there was even more movement from behind. Quick on his feet, he pivoted, but not towards the sound just behind him. As he was moving, something on his left snapped a twig. Eyes wide and ready, he looked, and got lucky. A familiar shadow grazed the surface of his vision. Smiling to himself, letting the rage flow through his flipped once again, he lunged for the nearest unlucky shadow. He would show them all their mistake, one by one, no matter how long it took and no matter how his friends looked at him for it afterwards. He would make them all pay for what they did to Froakie, make them all feel the same suffering he must have in his dying moments. It was only fair these monsters reaped what they sowed.

The Gabite wailed as Piplup jammed his flipper through its skull. The rustling on all sides grew louder.