The room was cold and moldy, too disgusting to even be considered a room. It more resembled a dungeon, and in a way, that was what it was. Liquid covered the floor, a mix of blood and tears and whatever else had been spilled in this wretched place. He held in his desire to retch as the stuff covered his feet and ankles, knowing that worse was to come if his father had his way.
His father. Some said N resembled him, and the prisoners cowering in the endless cells were proof of that. It had confused him at first, but then he'd realized: they thought he was Ghetsis. It shouldn't have been surprising. He resembled his father down to the last detail, from his hair to the bridge of his nose. No traces of a mother he'd never gotten to meet, no proof of the existence of another parent. It bothered him, to say the least, but he'd never dared complain. Not when complaining meant punishment.
The doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and N Harmonia was thrown into the room by the guards on either side of him like a discarded toy. He silently thanked Arceus that the floor was straw covered, but he only had a second to do that before he was hauled up by the grip on his bare forearm. The eyes that stared back at him were empty of love, of compassion, even while looking at it's own offspring. What should have been love was instead disappointment, and dread filled the air.
"You disgust me." Down on the floor again, flung this time. He smothered a groan of pain as his bones creaked. He was almost eighteen; why was his father treating him like this? He was a King, even after all that had just occured. Kings should have been respected. Yet even as he asked himself why, he knew. His father had seen, desperate as he had been to hide it. His father had noticed his unwavering affection to the girl with the determined eyes, as subtle as he'd tried to be. His father had noticed his admiration of her as she fought with her captured dragon, white as snow. Maybe he'd even seen N's foolish idea of kissing Hilda, his abrupt storming off. Either way, N would be punished.
The dream, or flashback, more like, shifted, and the boy was leaning over the stand, his hands gripping the ends as the whip dug into the tender flesh on his back. It didn't matter how much he pleaded for mercy. The cracks of the whip did not stop, and he gritted his teeth against the pain.
"Don't you understand, boy?" He kept silent, too busy dealing with the slashes in his back to care. "She has dreams too. Fatal ones." The whip snapped again, with more vigor. "Dreams that will contest yours and destroy everything we have worked for. Stupid boy, don't you understand?!" Searing pain on his back, so much that he threatened to pass out. "She will kill us all!"
And N, renewed at the thought of Hilda, managed a few words before he gave into the darkness. "Perhaps that is not a bad thing."
The whip snapped again, and N felt himself falling.
"No!"
N sat up, sweat wetting his temples and his hands grasping at the sheets. It was a dream. Just a simple, meaningless dream. That was all. He drew in a couple of deep breaths, covering his face with his slender fingers. Just a dream. Vivid as it was, it was only that.
With that realization came another: someone else was in the room.
Someone who looked strikingly like Hilda, except he knew it wasn't Hilda because Hilda was not the type of girl to clean things. And said figure was doing just that as she scrubbed the top of the dresser vigorously, the crease between her brows making an appearance ever so often.
The woman of the house didn't even glance up as she spoke.
"Good morning, dear. Or good afternoon, I should say. Hilda's outside practicing, if you were wondering. You should probably get cleaned up before you go see her. You're not going to woo a woman with that bed head, you know."
He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, but before he could stammer out a reply, she had moved on to another room.
He ended up following her orders eventually, running a brush through his hair and tying it back messily after he'd gotten dressed. Hilda's mother hadn't been far off when she'd mentioned the wooing thing, although he really wouldn't call it that. It was more of a desperate attempt to gain her affection that occasionally worked in his favor. But he'd try forever if he could just keep her out of the arms of another.
"Emolga, use Thunder!"
The squirrelly Pokemon didn't hesitate: sucking in a breath, electricity covered it and everything surrounding it, leaving the grass beneath its tiny feet charred. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to impress the brunette watching.
"My Arceus, you're getting better every day, Emolga." The smile that graced her face was unashamed, the arms that welcomed the Pokemon unabashed. "I'm so proud of you. Always have been, y'know."
The creature chirped happily in reply.
"Was especially proud when you took down N's Zekrom all by yourself." That wasn't true; Reshiram had done away with most of the other dragon's HP, and Emolga had only needed to Discharge the last point away, but Hilda pretended otherwise, if only for Emolga's pride. "I think we might not have beaten him or Ghetsis had it not been for you." Another chirp, and the trainer continued, lowering her voice to a mock-whisper. "Personally, I think N is just weak."
"I beg to differ." The voice, silky like a cat's, made her whirl and subsequently arch an eyebrow.
"What? You don't think Emolga's tough?" Said Pokemon, which had made a perch on Hilda's shoulder, puffed out his chest almost comically at that. She smothered a giggle.
N, once leaning against the wall but now deliberately drawing closer, had to fight the small smirk fighting its way onto his lips.
"No," he began, just inches away from her now. "I'm not weak."
She stuck her tongue out in response, dancing back away from him as she did so. "Whatever. You lose every time we battle."
He followed as she moved, letting her evade him even though he could have caught her if he wanted. "Only because you're incapable of losing."
She paused, pretending to think it over when really she was just fighting laughter. "Or maybe you're just prone to it."
That did it. The smirk broke free, and he was chasing her around the backyard, both of them laughing like maniacs. It took him a while, but he finally caught her, nearly tackling her in the process as they fell onto the grass. People stared, but Hilda was used to it. In fact, she wanted them to stare. She wanted them to be jealous because N belonged to her and none of the pretty floozy girls that lingered around the village. She might have been sick of the spotlight, but a little attention here and there didn't hurt.
He hovered over her triumphantly, panting from the chase. "I win."
She smiled delicately, her finger tapping his nose. "For once."
He huffed at that, brushing his own hair away from his face. He didn't need to do so with her, as her hair was perfectly tied back in a flawless ponytail. His, however, was less than. "You're just mad because you're as bad a runner as you are with words. When you go back to the Pokemon League, they'll have to give you cue cards to read off of."
And it was true. She was horrible at speaking, whether it be telling stories or making threats. When Ghetsis had cornered her that day, she had barely been able to stammer out a 'No.' And when N had flew away on Zekrom later on, she had barely been able to protest. She spoke more often nowadays, but that didn't mean she was skilled at it.
She frowned a bit, and her gaze went distant.
"What is it?" Three words and N wasn't hesitant about speaking them. If something was bothering her, she'd hesitate to voice it unless he encouraged her.
"There's something I need to tell you." Her gaze fled from his face as if ashamed, and went to her fingers that fiddled aimlessly with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm going to be leaving a bit..uh, early."
It felt like he'd swallowed a stone. "Why?" No, a stone wasn't accurate. It felt like Ghetsis all over again, like his father slapping him or the whips burning into his flesh. It felt like he was six again and his father was leaving him in the care of Pokemon again.
It felt like abandonment.
Thankfully, her gaze met his again. "I want to travel again. Staying at home isn't cutting it for me. And.."
"And?"
"And.." she paused a bit more before she spoke. "Alder has requested I get back into the public eye. Without you."
He felt like he'd been slapped. "Without me?"
She nodded slowly, purposely, as if she were speaking to a child. In a way, she kind of was, what with his innocent demeanor. A very, very good looking child with amazing kissing ability, but still a child in every way. "It's bad for my image, for me to be running around with the fallen Team Plasma King. People might start to assume things."
His emotions turned from 'please-don't-go' to 'how-dare-you' in an instant.
"Assume things?!" He sat up, rolling away from her embrace like she was poisonous. "Since when have you cared what the public eye sees?"
"Since I became the champion and defeated the King of Team Plasma, and since I saved millions of Pokemon from his reign of terror!"
Oh, now that had been the wrong thing to say.
"Wait, N, I didn't mean-" But he was already standing, too offended to really care about her apologies. Not being one to let something just walk away, she chased after him like a wild Pokemon, spewing apologies until he finally snapped.
"Is that what I am to you? Just someone planning to take over the world? Because that is not me. That is my fath-Ghetsis. If that is how you see things, though, then I think it is best I leave. Wouldn't want to humiliate you in front of your precious public." And he was gone, leaving her with her thoughts.
[]
[New chapter, guys! This took me a while, and I was stuck for a bit there, but today I suddenly got inspiration to finish the chapter. Hopefully it's not too horrible, haha. Enjoy!]
A tap on the door disturbed the silence of the night, and more importantly, disturbed N's packing. He didn't turn around, even as he heard the door squeak open and closed.
"Go away, Hilda."
"Actually, my name is Persephone."
He whirled at the voice, coming face to face with Mrs. Black herself. He expected anger, or retribution; after all, that was what most adults seemed to have a tendency for. But instead all he saw was pity.
"What do you want?"
She shrugged, mussing his hair as if he were her son and not a stranger. "Just to talk." She made herself comfortable, plopping down on the bed, although in technicalities she had the right to. It was her house.
"You remind me of my son, you know."
Okay, he hadn't expected that. But expectant or no, the words called him to sit down beside the woman.
"I do?"
"Yep. All quiet and careful, hidden away in a shell in every situation but ones that involve things you love. For Hilbert, it was Pokemon battles. For you..well, maybe it's Pokemon too, but from what I saw earlier, I think it's Hilda."
This woman had a tendency to make him blush. "You saw that?"
She nodded, her smile knowing. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. I'm happy that Hilda found someone that she can attach herself to. I was worried she would end up alone and I'd never get any grandchildren."
His usual response would have been shock, but after so long he was used to Mrs. Black's blunt manner. "Well, with the way things ended, I might have ruined your chances at that."
He felt an elbow nudge his side. "You can still fix things with her, you know."
"How?" The inquiry lingered in the air.
"If I know anyone, I know my daughter. She puts up that false toughness and tries to act like she doesn't feel, but in reality she cares. You just need to push past the bravado to see it."
N nodded once, pausing before heading for the door. "I understand."
His hand touched the knob before he thought of something. "And, Mrs. Black?"
"Yes dear?"
"T-thank you. I've never, er, had a mother figure before." He didn't know why he said that.
"Anytime, dear, anytime."
[]
"Hilda?" Another knock, but this time it was his own hand disturbing the silence.
"Go away!"
He sighed, leaning his head against the door. "I would like to talk to you."
"Well, I don't want to talk to you." Her voice was closer now, and he got the feeling that she was as close to the door as he was.
"Please?" he paused. No answer. "If you leave before I can say goodbye, I'd hate myself forever."
The click of an unlocked door sounded through the air, and before he knew it she was pulling him into the room.
He expected a slap. What he didn't expect was a pair of arms to wrap around his neck like a vise, and for a weeping girl to wrap herself on him like a Serperior.
"P-pl-ea-a-se d-o-o-n't-t b-e m-mad-d a-at m-m-m-" she could barely get the words out, she was crying so hard. Arceus, why was she crying so hard?
"Hey, hey, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it." His arms slid around her, wrapping her up so tight that she couldn't move if she tried. He hadn't felt more compassion towards her since Ghetsis had cornered her into a battle.
"B-but I-I d-d-didn't-"
"Shh. It's fine, I know. I know."
She'd eventually calmed down a few hours later, when he'd released her from his embrace and she'd covered the room in tissues. Now they sat in silence, and he left it to her to break it.
"I still have to go."
"I know."
"Public eye be damned. You're coming with me." You are, not, you can.
"And what about Adler?"
"Adler be damned, too."
For the second time that day, he tackled her. But it was for the first time that day when he kissed her like he was suffocating and she was oxygen.
In a way, that was true.