Sidestory - Childhood's End (A justification for Hilbert having his moments)
Cheren thought had a fairly clear understanding of reality. When his three best friends were scatterbrained, although in different ways, someone had to man up and make things clear. He was also the only one of them to wear glasses, so being reasonable was expected of him from the start.
What he expected, what most people would have expected, would be for the hospital room to be clean, shining pearl-white, and sterile.
Instead, over time, it had become something of an afterschool spot for the four friends. Hilda visited the most out of all of them, long after they'd initially gotten the news and often ate dinner there. Snack wrappers and empty bags of chips were often scattered across the floor, though she was considerate enough to pick them all up before she went home for the night.
When she went home for the night. She'd gotten better about her habits after the first couple of years. By the current year, 2008, she generally visited once a week.
That's not to say that he and Bianca didn't care about Hilbert. They were all best friends. Hilda was just… more attached. Unhealthily so, by his guess. She had known him longer than anyone, since it was her parents that helped ease Hilbert and his mother into life in Nuvema Town. It was hard to lose a fixture like that in your life, Cheren knew, if more by observation than personal experience.
Bianca wasn't always there when he and Hilda were. But just as often, randomly throughout the week, she'd charge off to the hospital on her own to see him. He'd followed on a hunch, though by the same quirk of her personality, she never noticed. She sat there for hours, chattering on and on, as if he was a journal for her thoughts. She never complained, though.
Cheren recalled reading somewhere that comatose patients were vaguely aware of their surroundings while asleep. He never prodded, but what he assumed was that she was trying to make his dreams a little lighter.
Even when she failed, she didn't excuse herself like their other friends did, the ones that showed up initially with flowers and well-wishes and looked surprised when Hilbert was mentioned in conversation in the following days. They'd moved on as if he was dead.
And why not? He practically was.
Cheren wanted Hilbert to wake up. He had the ideal clear as day in his mind, with the four of them walking down Route 1 with more best friends, new Pokémon by their side, together and ready to take on the world.
But that day wasn't likely to happen, no matter how much he prayed for Zekrom's thunder to make it ring true.
One of them had to be a realist. To have so much hope in a boy dead to the world was bizarre, and they knew it. Hilda was alright with being a pariah, that was just who she was.
What was the point of that ideal, anyway?
Cheren began to resent that image in his mind, because it was fake. It wasn't reality, and it never would be. Things would never be like in his games or on TV, because those were fantasies. They were meant to be, and he could never dream of making them reality.
He began to believe that believing in good things was foolish, that hope was only a road to despair, that ideals only led to disappointment when reality fell short.
And then, browsing the GTS forums one afternoon, Cheren heard about a little show called Gurren Lagann.
They made a weekend out of it. 27 episodes, 18 hours if they were being generous. Food and breaks needed to be accounted for.
Hilda brought enough soda to replace a person's blood with, and she likely would with the amount she usually drank. Bianca brought a pile of blankets and pillows so tall that when she held it, it scraped against the door frame.
Hilbert brought the company.
Cheren shook off the vaguely morbid thought as he connected the DVD player to the hospital's CRT. They were going to have a good time, he asserted. It was like Bianca's method of reaching out to Hilbert, only a little more lively.
They'd gotten permission from the hospital staff and their parents beforehand, though it took some Wooloo-herding on Cheren's part to get Hilda and Bianca to finish their homework ahead of time.
Cheren powered the player on, grabbed the remote, and settled in as the theme song played.
…
"So, all the lights in the sky are our enemies?"
…
"Gurren Lagann! Spin on! Who the hell do you think I am?"
…
"This is the tale of a man who has yet to realize his destiny."
…
"Drills are your soul, ya got it?"
…
"Your drill is the drill that will pierce the heavens!"
…
"Go beyond the impossible and kick reason to the curb! That's the way Team Gurren rolls!"
…
"Don't believe in yourself! Believe in me! Believe in the Kamina who believes in you!"
…
"LET'S SEE YOU GRIT! THOSE! TEETH!"
…
"...Listen, Simon. Never forget. Just believe in yourself. Not in the Simon that I believe in; not in the Kamina that you believe in. Have faith in the Simon who believes in you."
From that point on, they were enraptured. Bianca seemed to be half-asleep, but her eyes fluttered open every time some badass declaration was made, giant robots fought or combined, or someone mentioned drills.
Meaning, of course, her eyes were open the entire time.
Breaks only lasted minutes if they could help it.
There was a character Cheren felt was too similar to him to be comfortable, both in appearance and attitude. They were a realist forced to make hard decisions who had gone down the wrong path.
That was solved by a punch to the face by the overwhelmingly idealistic hero. It was also something of a wake-up slap to Cheren.
Reality and the show's world of idealism were incompatible, he thought. You couldn't make things happen by believing in them, or just fighting spirit alone.
As they continued watching, though, that thought continued and lingered in the back of Cheren's mind, ingratiating itself within his spirit.
They couldn't make ideals reality. That wasn't the point of ideals, not in the real world, at least. What they could do, though, was fight on, spiral upwards and towards that ideal until they got as close as they could get.
"I wonder if I'll ever go…"
The man on-screen smiled, his eyes shaded by his hood.
"Sure you will. Because the lights in the sky are-"
Hilbert's hand tensed like his fingers were talons.
His heart pulsed.