Chapter Sixteen – Like Father, Like Son

It hit N all at once. With the realization that there was still some hope left, that he could still stop the Shadow Triad and his father from hurting anyone else, his heart began beating again. The pain that gave a reminder of life radiated suddenly through his body from the epicenter at that beating heart, and he clutched his chest, folds of fabric pulled into his hand. It all hurt so much.

He cried out, and his weak legs gave out beneath him. The snickers of the Shadow Triad were barely audible over the sound of his own sobs, but they were there nonetheless. The group let him have his moment of vulnerability, however, surely presuming that in a few short moments, N would realize the pointlessness of existing in a world without Hilda and give himself up to them.

So, N buried his face in his hands and cried. Everything stung: the burning tears against his cool skin, the sensation of a thousand needles prodding at his heart. Even his breath came out jagged and painful, like there was some filter in his airway that only allowed him to gasp for air.

Once when N was young, he had fallen from the ramp while skateboarding and scraped his knee. Concordia and Anthea hadn't been around that day, so he called for his father of all people. Ghetsis came, only to chastise the little boy for crying.

"Stop with that incessant crying. When has that ever solved anything? When has the clocked reversed over some tears?" Ghetsis demanded of N. "Don't be so weak."

N had absorbed those words. It was true, anyway, that nothing changed when he cried. The scraped knee would still be there—Hilda would still be dead. And to a little boy, Ghetsis's words meant everything. He was the cold and calculating man N aspired to be. Emotions didn't fit into the beautiful formulae N admired, and those words calling him weak whispered forever in the back of his head.

Hilda would still be dead when N's tears dried up today. But Ghetsis's voice wasn't the only one in his head anymore. N knew well what Hilda would say.

"Well, crying might not solve anything, but it sure does make you feel better, huh?" She'd smile at N, maybe put a hand on his shoulder. "I see nothing wrong with shedding a few tears. It's healthy. Some things are worth crying over, you know? I couldn't imagine what life would be like without a good cry—because once I'm done crying, I usually feel a hundred times better and stronger."

Her smile lingered in N's mind, and his grip on his shirt loosened. The Shadow Triad had killed someone so beautiful, someone who lit up the world with that smile, and they had the nerve to laugh about it.

N stood up again. The Hilda in his head was right: he felt a hundred times stronger now.

"You're going to take me to see my father now," he barked at the Shadow Triad, and they all glanced at each other—in silence. Their snickers had ceased just as N's tears had.

"Oh?" a Shadow questioned, and when the three looked back at N, they were smiling again beneath those black masks. Their eyes narrowed with the movement, the glare in them a bit ominous. But they bowed to N, anyway, though they didn't lower their gazes like they usually did. It was a challenge. "Of course, my lord N. Lord Ghetsis will be so happy that you have come to your senses."

They turned and gestured for N to follow them. It was equally as dark in these caves as it was in the sewers, so N took the opportunity to make his move. He ran his hands along the walls, digging his fingers into the loose, moist earth surrounding them and leaving a crevasse behind. Slowing his steps behind the Shadows a little, he moved his fingers up and down.

"Lord N, this way," the Shadows called through the darkness.

N quickened his steps again, still dragging his fingers along the wall as he caught back up with the Shadow Triad. They didn't question it, but they seldom cared about others' actions if it didn't immediately affect them. It was more likely that they didn't care about what N was doing because it would bring everyone exactly where they wanted, anyway.

But N was bound to make them care soon enough. He glanced up at the stalactites and saw exactly what he needed. With a short, low whistle, there was movement above the group of four.

"Lord N, we ask that you please refrain from causing trouble. We are almost to Lord Ghetsis," a Shadow warned, and N dropped his hands from the walls.

That was no lie. Just a hundred or so feet in front of them, N could see the glimmer of orange light, probably from a flame-lit chamber. The Shadow Triad stopped him before they entered the room, however, holding their arms out in front of him to block his path. But N could see some of the torches nailed into the cave walls from the angle where he stood.

"We must announce your arrival." The Shadows each walked forward into the room, pivoting on their heels to the right and kneeling on the ground. "Lord Ghetsis, Lord N has come to request an audience. We did what you asked of us."

N could practically feel Ghetsis's cold smile as the man hissed, "Perfect." A shiver crawled up his spine.

The Shadows tilted their heads towards the boy and nodded, and N stepped forward into the room. It was a large cave chamber, lit entirely by the bright orange flames of several torches, and at the far end of the room on the right sat Ghetsis exactly as N remembered him: crooked, hard, and determined. Somewhere between his being broken and now, he fixed himself.

N's heart hurt again seeing that man before him, though the sensation wasn't exactly similar to how heavy his heart weighed in his chest when he thought about Hilda. Ghetsis had betrayed him, after all. No matter how desperately N wanted Ghetsis to redeem himself, the man tricked N into believing a lie and used him for selfish desires—ones that N wouldn't have gone along with of his own volition.

He doubted that Ghetsis's heart was as heavy as his, but didn't his father feel something? If N could feel this, and Ghetsis believed him no more than a freak without a human heart, couldn't someone with a real heart feel even more? Shouldn't he?

But the expression Ghetsis bore was not pained. He sat on an ornate chair, one that wasn't quite a throne but one that was the best the Shadow Triad could bring him, with his head propped up by his only fist against his chin. His eyes, at least the one uncovered, betrayed some dark intentions, and the way his brow furrowed upon seeing N brought discomfort to the already dank chamber.

"Just when I thought I was free of you," Ghetsis began. He turned his gaze on the Shadow Triad. "He does not appear broken to me."

The Shadow Triad all bowed again, and unlike their bow to N earlier, they didn't hold eye contact with Ghetsis. "We told him, my Lord," one of the Shadows explained quietly. "If you saw him then, you would know that he is indeed broken. The tears he shed for her…"

Ghetsis smirked at this and looked back at N. "I always knew you were weak."

N's heart sunk further with every word. "Father, I—"

"Do not call me that!" Ghetsis roared, lifting his head from his hand. The sound alone made the flames flicker on the torches, but the sheer force of the words made N step back. "I am not your father, just as you are not my son. You are a tool, one that failed to fulfill its purpose and should have been disposed of long ago."

Only the snapping of the fire filled the silent room now. One Shadow stepped to N's side, one to the other, and even without looking back, N could feel the presence of the third behind him. If Ghetsis wanted to fight, they weren't going to give N a choice to fight back this time. By coming to this place, N already sacrificed himself, and the Shadow Triad wasn't going to let that be in vain if they could help it.

"You can still redeem yourself! You can repent for what you did to Hilda!" N yelled back, but the immediate burst of laughter stopped him from commenting further.

When Ghetsis stopped chuckling, he leaned back on his hand. "I didn't do anything to her. The Shadow Triad did that completely on their own knowing that I had plans to conquer Unova again one day. I did always wonder why she never showed up," he pondered, but he bore a sly grin now. "That's one less annoyance to worry about now."

"One less?" N repeated.

"Well, if it wasn't for you, the second annoyance would already be dead, and I would have already gotten what I wanted." Ghetsis's expression turned dark, and his eyes shifted to the trio in black. "You didn't happen to take care of her, did you?"

The Shadow to N's left bowed again. "In progress, my Lord."

N's body went rigid… how was he supposed to even help Rosa from in here? He could only count on Cheren right now, but how could he when he didn't even know if the guy was okay? Who even knew if Cheren planned on coming back? And if he didn't, then the only one who knew Rosa was here was N.

To the Shadows, the whole thing had to be something like poetic justice, but it just made N feel sick.

Ghetsis looked pleased enough, though. "Which leaves one annoyance left." He held up his index finger and then slowly pointed it at N. "It's terribly hard to find loyal help these days, but I do believe the Shadow Triad has proven itself, don't you? Without them, I would have given up completely."

"As you should!" N countered, and Ghetsis laughed a wicked laugh.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you? Quitters never win, and I will win." Ghetsis rose from his chair and walked towards N with a limp. But he towered over N, standing so tall and so broad that the man practically radiated power from his very being. Physically, even with Ghetsis's impairments, N didn't stand much of a chance.

Ghetsis raised his hand towards N just as something else entered the chamber. He lowered his arm and watched the Bisharp approach his master, the Shadow on N's left. The blade on one of its arms was bloodied, the crimson liquid still dripping off the edge even now.

"It seems we have visitors," the Shadow commented.

With a scowl, Ghetsis looked towards the entrance to the chamber. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he gestured at two of the Shadows. "Go. Kill them all."

No. Cheren had to have come back—who else could the 'visitors' be if not Cheren and, quite possibly, Rosa? And if the Bisharp's blade was bloodied, that meant that someone was in trouble… and the two Shadows were about to make it worse. If any more people died because of N, he wouldn't know what to do…

"Ghetsis, stop!" N shouted, and Ghetsis finally struck him across the face. The boy fell backward at the third Shadow's feet.

"The world can perish for all I care!" Ghetsis screamed.

N's eyes went wide, and he stared up at the man he could barely call his father without the faintest recognition of what that word meant. What was a father? Ghetsis was the only one he had ever known, but this couldn't be it.

There was no helping him, was there?

N couldn't pretend any longer. He couldn't hope to save a man beyond saving—one who didn't even want to be saved.

"I hate you," he muttered, and then the words exploded from him. "I hate you! You're a terrible person—you're the one without a human heart!" All of N's feelings came to a boiling point, all of the neglect he felt over the years and all of the pain he suffered for this man. "You used me for your own schemes! You didn't ever want me! I'm through making excuses for you! Why should I try to help a man who wants me dead?"

It was not a feeling that N particularly liked. It made his stomach churn uneasily, and his hands shook in rage. Hatred wasn't easy—it was easier to like someone, or at least try to tolerate them, than to feel pure hatred. But Ghetsis had never given N a reason to feel anything but hatred towards him.

N didn't want to hate the man who raised him, but Ghetsis gave him no choice. That man had never cared for him.

"If only you could have felt that hatred sooner. You would have been of more use to me." Ghetsis stared down at N with his eye barely open. "Now," he added to the two Shadows, "destroy them."

Author's Note: I see N as the type of guy who cannot hate easily. He'd look for the best in people because that was what Hilda (or Hilbert, if you prefer) gave him hope for.

I know how easily influenced children are. N would have taken all of Ghetsis's words for truth and put all of his trust in him; he wouldn't have viewed Ghetsis's treatment as abuse, when that was clearly what it was. So for N to realize that, yes, it was, is a big deal for him.