It was normal for Volo to release Lucario once he was settled at his camp at dusk. In truth, he had no understanding of how 'aura' worked - Professor Laventon's term for a Lucario's mysterious insight - but he had always imagined that Lucario needed time to settle into his surroundings, before his mind could begin scouting for any potential threats.
Volo had continued in that belief for years, for no harm had ever befallen him while Lucario was standing guard. Why change what wasn't broken?
Night had already fallen, the fire was almost out, and still Lucario remained in his Poké Ball. Volo had been cradling the ball in his hands for so long that his palms had become clammy, and tainted with the faint bitter smell of apricorns. He pressed the capsule to his lips.
I'm sorry. Things have not been right with us since that day. But I need you to forgive me.
Volo did not speak the words out loud, but he held them in his mind as he gently threw the ball past the campfire's dying embers, aiming for the dark edge of the clearing, where Lucario had carried out his nightly patrols many times before. Volo's hand remained in the air, as always: palm open, waiting for the empty capsule's return.
Seconds passed.
Silence, except for the murmuring wind, and the distant clicking of a few Gligar.
The first time he had seen the Professor demonstrating the use of a Poké Ball, Volo had been part of an audience on the main street of Jubilife Village. The only street, at the time. Togepi was hidden under his apron, to conceal her from any suspicious eyes in the crowd. For this was a very suspicious crowd, full of fearful whispers and quiet grumbles.
"These people must be mad!"
"Do they really think a little wooden shell could hold a Pokémon and its powers?"
"I can understand the desire to learn more about them, but why would you want to carry a dangerous creature so close to you?"
Volo had clutched Togepi to his waist, a thin film of moisture forming over his eyes as he imagined what might happen if he were to accidentally drop her, trapped in that tiny prison, over the edge of a cliff, or into a lake…
Somebody else in the crowd must have had the same thought. Volo did not hear their question, thanks to his own imagined wails of horrified grief ringing in his ears - the cliffs around Lake Verity are so steep, and the lake so vast, he would surely never see his beloved Togepi again! - but he watched as Laventon and his young assistant repeatedly demonstrated how the balls would return to one's hand, over and over, just as neatly as if they were attached by some invisible thread…
Volo's fingers twitched now. His palm remained empty.
All technology can fail sometimes.
It had happened before. A different kind of failure. Togekiss had broken free of her capsule, but only ever to be a force for good, to protect her trainer from some impending threat.
If Pokémon could do such a thing, perhaps Lucario was gone.
Volo had been carrying his fears of this day for a while. Lucario - a Riolu, as he once was - had joined him freely, because Volo had made an impulsive choice to sweep his Togepi out of harm's way, and place himself in the path of attack. His more recent actions had tipped the scales, far outweighing that single act of self-sacrifice.
Volo felt that Lucario could leave, just as easily as he'd come. After all, Volo had given him false hope. He had lied, led him to believe that he'd be serving a worthy person…
But the idea of losing him was unbearable.
"Lucario!" He couldn't be that far away, and even if he was, surely his powers of aura would make up for the distance. "Forgive me, please!"
Just as Volo leapt to his feet, intent on running blindly into the trees, the ball came whistling back and struck him squarely in the knee, hard enough to make his eyes water. A cruel thing to befall someone who had to walk miles each day. Especially here, in the mountains.
Biting back a cry of pain, Volo reached down to pick up the ball. It was warm in his hand, the metal clasp even warmer when he brushed his thumb across it. It wasn't empty. Its resident, it seemed, had simply refused to be at his beck and call.
He would awaken at dawn to see Lucario's shadow upon the blackened remains of the campfire.
