After covering all of her relevant business in Eterna, such as following up on complaints made against Galactic Industries that had echoed up the ladder, Cynthia decided to make a few calls.
The house call with the Underground Man (that his preferred name was such a pseudonym made him relatively normal compared to most members of their regrettably-termed conspiracy) had gone well enough; he had met Kuroiwa as well and promised that the boy was traumatized before they met, it wasn't his fault, no siree.
Afterwards, she recalled that Hilbert had mentioned that his patron was strongly associated with Unova. It had stuck out because while she did have a villa there (rarely used as it was), he wasn't the only person she was aware of in such a situation.
"Candice," Cynthia said.
"Oh, hey, girl! What's up?"
The fifteen or so year age difference did little to imbalance their friendship. Things like inescapable dread tend to create bonds in those that felt them.
"There was something I wished to confirm with you," Cynthia said. "You are still searching for a specific sort of dreamer, correct?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, totally. His patron has to be Zekrom, Kyurem, or Reshiram, though. I know it's really specific, but if you try to set me up on a blind date, I might have to-"
"I wouldn't do that," Cynthia said, before pausing. "Twice."
"Hm, yeah, okay. So, you just wanted confirmation, or…?"
Cynthia considered the question from a moral perspective.
"Yes, that was all."
She could hear the frost glide across the receiver as Candice sighed. "Ah. Well, if you run into a guy like that, just let me know, you know?"
"I know," Cynthia confirmed.
She contemplated her decision as the receiver clicked off. It was probably for the best if Candice found out for herself, and also if Kuroiwa didn't get kidnapped by someone utterly obsessed with Nobunaga's legacy.
Cynthia still thought it was odd that despite being chosen by its patron, the outgoing girl held so little regard for Limits.
The Lights in the Sky Are Thunderbolts - XX - I'm With You
The next day, Hilbert and Cheryl left for Eterna Forest. She had cleaned up her maps, notes, and sketches of his battle which she insisted she made for research purposes while he reformed the clothing hangers that Golett had melted down over the course of their stay.
The forest was somewhat more humid than it had been before, carrying with it a weakening chill. Some trees were already beginning to sprout new leaves and buds in the morning sun.
There must have been some rain, Hilbert thought, though he couldn't remember seeing anything other than sunny or overcast on the forecast. Had it been a freak storm?
He thought a little bit harder for a second.
Ah, he verbalized mentally.
After retracing their steps (wandering), carefully choosing between trails (wandering), and consulting Cheryl's map (again, wandering), they managed to find their way back to the wrought iron gates.
The Kusanagi ancestral home loomed over them. Each of the roof's ridges looked sharp like a spear, every angle steeped in shadow, every window fogged or opaquely cracked.
Hilbert unpinned his badge from his jacket and held it up to the spiritual presence. "We're here with the permission of the Eterna City Gym Leader. We're not here for a fight and we'll keep damage to a-"
He paused.
"We won't damage your home at all," he claimed.
The rusty lock on the gate creaked. Down the muddied and broken road, around a fountain displaying a tilted stone Roselia, and past the paved roundabout carriages were once pulled over, the front door swung as if pushed by a draft.
He looked at Cheryl and grinned.
"Eh, what's a little-"
"Please don't say it again," she begged.
"Had to get it out before we went in," he said, before pushing the gate open and distractions out of his mind.
It took a minute, but they managed to get to the door without slipping on the patches of ice that littered the walkway.
Pushing the rotted wood inwards, dust jumped off the floor and curled towards the ceiling like smoke.
The air shifted.
"We're not here to fight," Hilbert said. "Don't take this the wrong way."
There was sound like a dozen baseball bats swinging a strike as the dust was blown from the air, thrown down the hallways that branched off of the foyer.
Finally able to get a good look, he saw that the floor was covered in red carpet that may have been plush once but crunched like frost underfoot. The walls were entirely bare, scratched up as if decorations had been stripped from them in a hurry. Standing between two rusted knights was a black-suited butler with a solid, though close-cut head of gray hair.
"Um, hello, sir," Cheryl said, before bowing. "Thank you for having us."
The butler's face didn't move. As they swept and arm out in a beckoning manner, Hilbert saw the utter lack of folds in their clothing or how their elbow didn't bend quite the way it ought to.
"That's an illusion," Hilbert said out of the corner of his mouth as they walked behind it, headed up a set of stairs. "There's no center of spiritual power in their body, either."
Cheryl sighed out a puff of breath. "It doesn't hurt to be polite, does it?"
Blinking, he couldn't think of a reply before they arrived at what appeared to be their destination.
The dining room only had one entrance, and on the opposite wall there was a fireplace, with windows filling the space on the walls between. The carpet, in this case, did match the drapes, as both were damp and seeped with cold if they weren't outright frozen.
"Please, eat," the illusion said simply. "The Lady shall be with you soon."
Hilbert traced its trajectory as it walked out of the room and watched as the spiritual energy comprising it dissolved back into the house.
"That food is an illusion as well, isn't it?" Cheryl asked, tracing the wafting steam with her eyes. Cuts of all kinds of meat, vegetables with all kinds of butters and seasoning, and pitchers with all kinds of drinks lined the table, filling every bit of space between the porcelain plates and fine wine glasses.
"Yep," Hilbert said, putting his hands in his pockets. The table was covered in an uneven blob of spiritual energy.
"It really does look delectable," she said with a small pout. "It's been quite a while since I've had a home cooked meal."
"Really?" Hilbert asked.
Recall, Hilbert definition of home cooked just means anything he had to put on the stove or mix himself.
"I can cook, of course," Cheryl said, before looking off to the side and then back at him. "Perhaps I could make a dish for you sometime?"
"Ahem," came a sickly, crackling voice. It oozed out over the room like water did off of a melting glacier and to the ears, felt like how undried laundry smelled.
Frost poured out of the fireplace like a heavy snowfall, misting before condensing into its true form. The center of its power became clear around the spirit's head, becoming nakedly visible as a purple orb for a split second before instead taking the form of a human.
The spirit had curtains of black hair, each strand looking as brittle as an icicle. Her clothing was hard to look at directly, blurry like a sundress in the wind but at the same time, harshly bright like a winter breeze. Her skin was so pale that the veins beneath it made it seem blue.
Hilbert realized that he was looking at a woman and tried not to crease his brow in thought. He hadn't come across a fully human spirit yet, and certainly not one that was able to reassume a human form like this one.
"I must apologize for my poor manners as of late," the spirit said, sighing dramatically. Whatever liquid remained in the room immediately froze. Trespassers and the like, it's quite terrifying for a woman living on her own, wouldn't you agree?"
Hilbert winced. "My bad."
The spirit regarded him with a look of contempt. "Hm. "Your bad" indeed. And you, young lady? What do you have to say for yourself, associating with such a ruffian?"
Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, Hilbert chanted mentally, unable to rely on Golett to keep himself in check. This was a serious situation, he tried to assure himself. If he messed up, there was a good chance that one of them would die.
"Are you of the Kusanagi family, spi- ma'am?" Cheryl asked.
"Kusanagi… hm…" the spirit pondered, pressing a finger to their cheek. "Yes, that was the family that left me to die in this house and abandoned it soon after, what of it?"
Hilbert felt malice begin to creep up from between the floorboards.
Cheryl seemed not to notice, however, and before he could do anything, she said, "My name is Cheryl Kusanagi, granddaughter of Susanoo Kusanagi. There are no other descendants of our family." She placed her hand on her heart and declared, "This place is my ancestral home and birthright."
"Is it, now?" the spirit asked curiously.
Hilbert's expression tightened. "Cheryl," he said.
She turned to look at him, a bit of surprise on her face for some reason. "Yes?"
"This is the part when we negotiate," he said, before turning to the spirit. "We can't make demands of you, ma'am, I apologize."
"And you? Are you some brute she hired in an attempt to steal what is mine?" the spirit asked, her voice cutting like an ice pick.
"Of course not," Hilbert said, "She's not paying me anything."
"Oh," the spirit said, before turning back to Cheryl and scowling. "So, my grandniece is a whore. I'm quite happy. I would be quite happier if you left before I disallow you from sullying my family's name any further."
"That's not it," Hilber promised, holding his hands up in surrender. Cheryl was probably the least sexual person he had ever met, and he'd grown up with Cheren, so that was saying something. "I would never dream of damaging your family's honor, ma'am."
There was a time and place for arguments for and against free love and all that jazz. A few seconds and a few more feet away from an icicle to the brain was not one of them.
"Hm," the spirit said, though the frost creeping up and over his shoes didn't cease.
"We're not here to steal anything," Hilbert said, declining his head towards the ground. "Cheryl, maybe you should tell her about your childhood," he prodded.
The green-haired girl managed to look up from the ground. "Right, um, great aunt-"
"You will not call me that," the spirit said flatly.
The ice accelerated in growth. Hilbert tried to shake it off without moving his legs.
"Right, ma'am," Cheryl stuttered. "My grandfather recently passed away. He was an adventurer and wrote in all sorts of magazines, but we lived in Solaceon Town. My grandmother passed away shortly before my parents were sent away in the Conflict. I'm," Cheryl started, her voice breaking a little bit, "I'm all alone, now."
Hilbert's heart panged.
"So nice to hear that little Suzy-boy got to see the world," the spirit said, her voice full of disgust. "He got me killed and ran off with the rest of them. And what's this about a Conflict? A war? It's exactly what you all deserve."
He saw Cheryl's eyes widen in shock.
"Don't," he tried to say softly.
"How can you say something so terrible?" Cheryl exclaimed. "Your brother, your nephew, and so many other people died for nothing, and you think that's something we deserved?"
"Do not think to raise your voice at me, girl," the spirit said, face contorting in rage. "I've given you too much leeway."
Focusing on Cheryl's spirit alone, Hilbert reached for his Pokéball belt and said, "Hostile. Duck. You'll know when."
The spirit turned towards him, eye thinning into slits. "You speak Galarian? I thought wrong. The girl's family truly has no standards."
Don't start a fight. Don't start a fight. Don't start a fight.
"And you," Hilbert said, thumbing his chest, "Don't have a chance."
The air shifted.
The spirit's corporeal form was shattered into snowflakes as Machamp struck them with a four-fisted flurry.
Heat washed over his back as Fuego appeared behind him. The windows cracked and shattered as Golett pulled together a body.
"Keep Cheryl out of the cross-fire," he said, before pausing. "I mean the cross-ice."
His heart pulsed with annoyance.
The spirit reformed in front of the fireplace and ditched their human form. The purple core of their being reappeared, layered with white cloth like a mask. Crystals of ice stuck out like spikes on a crown, and droopy sleeves seemed to act as its arms. It had a wrap around its hollow torso, tied shut with a bowed red ribbon.
Hilbert rapidly blinked to keep his eyes from freezing over.
The Froslass screeched, losing all semblance of human intelligence. A dozen Ice Shards formed along the opposite wall and shot towards him, each the size of his head.
Machamp caught four of them and punched the rest out of the air, quickly shaking off the frostbite that encased their fists.
The Ice-type spirit snarled and formed a Shadow Ball at the crest of their forehead. It sucked in the light from the room before exploding towards Machamp.
Machamp's torso shattered like a slab of stone, before dissolving back into raw spirit energy. Their fists dimmed and disappeared entirely.
Froslass turned towards Hilbert, her eyes like chips of ice. She banished all heat from the room and formed an iceberg beside her, snowflakes flying around her like a miniature blizzard.
His heart pulsed and pounded out of his chest in sharp bursts.
Golett melted into glass and swirled around Hilbert's fist, encasing it in a cone of glass.
The iceberg shot towards him in a high arc, scraping against the ceiling and leaving a trail of ice along the paneling.
Hilbert jumped onto the table and punched through the iceberg, shattering both the ice and the glass before he pulled the minerals back into shape.
"You're not hurting anyone else!" he shouted as he ran towards them. "Zekrom!"
A world where friends could go anywhere without a care in the world, where people could live simply without fear of things that came by night, where people could find home if they tried hard enough.
Wasn't that what he was fighting for?
The spirit raised what looked like a wall of ice and threw it towards him hastily.
He swept up the tarnished and warped tableware with his shoe and reformed it like a knight's armor around his leg before kicking into the ice.
"I'll break through any wall you put in my way!" he roared as snowflakes and chips of ice cascaded around him.
He reared back while pushing his spirit towards his fist, making it crackle with electricity as it sharpened once again.
Froslass threw themselves away from him, rapidly moving towards the fireplace in a burst of frost.
He punched towards Froslass. The drill lengthened into a lance before it stabbed through their icy exterior and into their spirit.
"Communion!"
Yuki Kusanagi had been the girl's name. She thought her life was pretty good, if dreadfully boring.
Her first memories had been of awakening in a four-post bed that could fit twenty of her, and immediately being tended to by a woman she would grow to recognize, though not as her mother.
Rich, she was. High status, the help told her.
The Kusanagi family had been tied to the Quillon of Kalos long before her birth, but the traditions of each side hadn't faded since then. Kalos and Sinnoh both had ideals of right and proper womanhood, so she was taught both. Her lessons consisted of Old Kalosian in the mornings and Sinjohan in the afternoons. It was painful to learn the calligraphy of six different written languages from multiple Smeargle- especially because of how prideful they could be at times- but she could cope. She was content, having all of the wooden toys in the world and the cutest little Furfrou to play with in the garden when she wasn't forced to sit still for hours on end.
She hadn't yet felt bitterness, but when her brother was born, a strange feeling called jealousy began to fill the chambers of her heart.
A screech split Hilbert's eardrums, shaking him out of his vision.
Golett threw him back down the table by his bones, just barely out of the way of a wave of knife-like ice shards that splintered the walls where they struck.
"So, you were human once," Hilbert confirmed, rolling to his feet and wiping the blood from his mouth where he'd bit his lip. "Seriously? You were jealous?"
Froslass shrieked again, tears forming in their eyes and becoming icy armor on her face.
He pulled himself back into his stance, gathering silver around his fist with his soul as he said, "Tough shit. You don't get to hurt other people because your life sucked." He cracked his fist against his heart and said, "As long as these people are under my protection, you're not hurting anyone."
Lighting poured out of his eyes and crackled along his arms, before concentrating around the metal surrounding his right.
Froslass threw another volley of icicles towards him.
Dirt and stone exploded through the windows, having slowly crept along the walls under Golett's power. Rocks bombarded Froslass, cracking the ice that they held up around them as shields.
Walls of ice burst from Froslass' core, pushing back the attack before they tried to turn back to Hilbert.
Ice and glass cracked as he punched the spirit in the face.
Time passed for the young woman. Proper dress, posture, tea ceremonies; more and more expectations were placed on her, and while she couldn't fight back, she began to grow resentful.
"Yuki, let's play hide and seek!" the little brat, Susanoo said, having burst into her room.
Yuki kept looking out the window, looking at the sheets of snow that covered the gardens. She used to be allowed to go outside, before it was deemed too improper and she was restricted to the house. Her skin had begun to pale from the lack of direct sunlight.
"Hide and seek isn't ladylike," she said flatly, though even if it was, she wouldn't have agreed. "Go bother Mother, she's always liked you more."
And it was true, which was even more infuriating. Sons carried on the family name, daughters carried on the traditions. He could play however and whenever he wished, because "boys will be boys" while the most she could do was watch.
Hadn't they considered that she might want to explore the world, too? To take Furfrou around the Sinnoh region and see everything that her home was? Hadn't they considered that she might want to be free as any man might be?
She could still be a good daughter if she did that. She understood the importance of their traditions, but she was unable to do anything but resent them from the inside of her cage.
"Please?" he begged.
"No," Yuki said. "Now get out of my room."
"Humor the boy," came the voice of her mother, suddenly standing in the doorway in her usual semi-formal wear, her sleeves coming down only to her forearms.
"And I'm supposed to give everything up at the command of a man?" she asked, tapping her nails against the table and glaring. "Even that child?"
Susanoo frowned.
"It's only a game," Mother said. "There's little harm in it."
"But if I wanted to play by myself, there would be an issue," Yuki said flatly. "Like always."
Mother gave her that sulking look, as if she were contemplating a lifetime of terrible choices. She was an expert at projecting that onto her daughter. "Do I need to speak to your father about your antisocial behavior?"
Yuki turned away. "Do what you like. Nothing will change."
"Please," her mother said softly. "Just this once, be kind to your brother. For his sake."
She glared at the window. "Fine."
Susanoo cheered and ran off further into the mansion.
"Just stay inside the house, will you?" Mother said.
Yuki scoffed.
Froslass pushed him away with a burst of frozen air before retreating into the fireplace.
"You're not getting away that easy!" Hilbert shouted, melting the grates and fire pokes on his arms before jumping into the chimney, easily scaling the brick walls even in the dark.
He emerged into the gray afternoon light of winter and saw Froslass darting away towards the center of the mansion.
The roof was patchy, parts of it caved in and rotten, and in some places, missing entirely. The rafters creaked with each step he made.
"So, what, family issues?" Hilbert shot, "You had too much expectations on you?"
Froslass turned with a glare and threw an Ice Shard at him.
Hilbert dodged under the flying iceberg, his bones bending and snapping back into place as the ice crashed into the forest behind him.
"Tough shit," Hilbert said. "You had a family. Cheryl didn't get that. I only had my mom. And there are plenty of people that had it even worse than we did."
Golett began reinforcing the roof with the clay from the brick, lining the peak with stone so solid he could step anywhere and it wouldn't give way.
"You got off lucky. Wah, wah, wah, people expect things of me?" Hilbert asked, before he snarled and said, "At least they were around to expect things of you. Get a grip. You don't get to hurt other people because your life sucked."
Froslass screeched and threw a sphere of Ice TE skyward. Seconds laters, tiny hailstones because clinking against the roof with steady rhythm.
Hilbert tried not to wince as one struck his scalp and drew blood. His skull was fine, but if he got blood in his eyes, he would only be able to see some of what he was doing.
"Machamp, switch with Fuego and keep the place from collapsing on top of Cheryl."
The winds shifted just as Froslass sent another volley of icicles his way, scattering them against the roof.
Hilbert dashed forwards, struggling for balance with each step as he ran towards Froslass.
Just as an iceberg crashed down in front of him, he stopped short and poured his spirit into the frame.
A smooth lash of brick rose from the roof and snapped towards the spirit like a whip.
Yuki swept through the kitchen, the white sleeves of her dress sweeping through like a snowstorm through a valley.
She suddenly stopped as she heard a giggle emanate from one of the cabinets.
Pretending to walk past, she immediately doubled back, yanked the door open, and reached for Susanoo before flicking his nose.
"Oh, darn," Susanoo said, rubbing his reddened skin. "I thought I was the only one that had explored the entire house."
Yuki allowed herself a haughty smirk. "I've been a woman longer than you've been alive, brat. You'll have to do better than that."
"Whatever!" the boy said with a pout. "It's your turn to hide."
Yuki considered it, before slamming the cabinet door shut. "Alright, count to one hundred and twenty."
He was muffled, but she heard his agreement before he started counting.
She ran through the house, actually finding herself smiling for the first time in a long time. They'd already burned through most of the nooks and crannies of the house, and recycling a spot would be rather pedestrian.
She recalled a cellar door she'd seen in the garden when she was little, and though she'd never entered it… it wasn't entirely out of the question to hide there, was it? Susanoo had played outside much more than she had, even at his age.
The door swung open before she padded along the exterior wall, narrowly avoiding the snow that coated the grounds and sticking to the gravel. It was uneven and hell on her feet, since the sandals were much better on solid ground, but she was so elated that she didn't stop to consider the pain.
Soon enough, the entrance stood still in front of her. The hinges and frame were metal, crisscrossing across the finished wood that seemed purely decorative.
Looking behind her to make sure no one was looking, she pulled it open and stepped down inside before slowly easing it shut behind her.
The click that the doors made may have worried her, but her mind was racing with the thought of actually enjoying how she spent her time.
It seemed to be their family's wine cellar. She'd been brought up to understand the logistics and bookkeeping relating to the business, though she'd never seen it in person. It was more of a side bet the family had made when the house was first built rather than a long-term investment.
She could see her breath even more clearly the more she looked around, feeling the chill settle into her skin. Unconsciously, she hugged her sleeves tighter as she walked between rows of barrels and crates of empty bottles and glassware.
She cracked her knuckles against the barrels and could tell that they were full by the echo. Still aging, then.
With a smirk, she put her hands on her hips and waited.
Five minutes passed. The brat was probably running around inside the house, still too young to think outside the box. He'd never had limits, after all. He'd never needed to think around them.
Ten minutes. Still probably hadn't figured it out.
Thirty minutes. She figured that he would ask Mother or one of the help where she might have hidden.
She guessed that an hour had passed when she began feeling worried.
"Alright, that'll be the game," she said aloud, as if she had to justify her every move even when no one else was around. "He'll never find me if he hasn't yet."
She walked up to the entrance and pushed on the door.
A puzzled look struck her face as the door refused to give way. She looked around for a latch or a switch she might have flipped, but found none.
She pushed again. It wasn't that it was heavy, but more like something had shifted in its way and that it could move.
Again. She threw her entire weight against it, certainly bruising her shoulder.
She took a step back, trying not to tremble.
She tried again and again, only stopped when she realized that blood had begun flowing from her battered fingertips and fracturing knuckles.
She raged, throwing empty crates and planks at the doors, but they still refused to budge. Had they rusted shut because she opened it? Were the roof cleaners dumping snow on it?
She sank in defeat, almost immobile.
After hours, days maybe, she walked over to one of the aging kegs and with one of the bars, cracked it open. Wine-dark waves washed out onto the floor before she caught some of it in an empty bottle. It had stained her dress like blood, but she was past the point of being able to care about something so superficial.
She took a deep drink and settled against the steps, feeling how each step dug into her back and smeared grime against her clothes.
She leaned further back and looked up at the closed cellar door. She saw stars in the grains of wood that shut her away.
It would have been funny if she could think clearly enough. Even when she made her own choice, she still ended up in another cage.
"Isn't anyone trying to find me?" she slurred. "Won't somebody come take me home?"
She was stricken by a vision of the doors suddenly swinging open into a kingdom of light, showing her future and the entire world laid out for her. Warmth and heat and hope would sweep into the world, and her family would accept that she wanted to be her own person before she would belong with them.
Susanoo… he was a brat, but she loved him. Was that true? She imagined what she would do once he found her.
She'd sweep him up into her arms, saying sorry for all the times she had been terrible to him, that really, she did care about him even if their parents didn't think similarly. She'd cry and it wouldn't be ladylike or proper at all, it would be authentic and true and show him that his older sister cared that she did that she really did that she did that she-
The spirit screeched, waterfalls of ice exploding from her ice and stabbing towards Hilbert.
He ran along the shingles, trusting Golett to keep him from falling over the edge while he tried not to step through the roof.
Without rhyme or reason, Froslass carved through the roof and sent splinters and planks flying off.
"You were trapped. You had hope and no one cared," Hilbert said sympathetically.
A pillar of ice exploded towards him as Froslass's anger and bitterness filled the air.
He cleaved it in half with a punch and his spirit, bounding towards Froslass.
"But you can't keep hurting people!" he shouted. "Shutting everyone out and hurting them won't keep you safe!"
"You don't know anything!" the spirit shouted, their form flickering again. "What would you know about being left behind?"
"I know enough!" He leapt into the air and kicked at Froslass, sweeping up dust and nails like a pile driver towards her.
A wall of ice condensed out of the air and froze it in place.
Hilbert threw himself over the wall and the spirit, using millimeter-thick stilts to support him as he jumped.
Froslass turned towards him and backed up towards the chimney.
Hilbert let his spirit free and grinned.
Violet gouts of fire poured out of the chimney as Fuego appeared, their blades burning bright and flickering with blue lightning where their armor jutted outwards.
Taking advantage of Froslass' momentary distraction, he reigned his Ideals in and pierced her spirit.
She died. Dehydration, blood loss, and frostbite from laying on the cold, damp floor for days on end.
They only found Yuki after figuring that no, she couldn't have just run away like they initially expected. Her father ordered an extensive investigation of the grounds and the surrounding forests just in case, and it was only by chance that they thought to check the wine cellar. Only a fool would go there in the middle of winter, what were the odds?
But the odds were quite high, and the funeral was quickly arranged.
She was buried, but she hadn't left.
They felt her lingering around the mansion. At first, it was barely abnormal: the fireplace took a few extra logs to keep burning, the ice boxes tended to freeze rather than just chill, and the garden didn't start growing back until long after spring had sprung.
They kept the fires lit well into the summer months. Some of the help reported nearly freezing to death in the night, even with extra blankets.
Susanoo woke up screaming one night, saying he heard singing right in his ears and felt something brush across his face.
That was it. In Sinnoh, there were superstitions about houses that people had died in. They were hoping to avoid it, owing to their dueling heritage, but eventually fear won out.
Furniture was packed into transportation, paintings were arranged for selling or lending to private collections, and all records that the Kusanagi family had ever resided in that aging castle were put away under lock and key.
And so, Yuki was left in that house. She was alone among the emptied halls and fading traces of the family that she had nearly cared for, and the moment she did, she paid the ultimate price.
It's not fair.
I wanted to be with them. I realized that.
Why don't they want me now?
Why was I born this way?
What else could I have done?
Where would I go?
Who cares?
It doesn't matter.
I don't need them
They don't need me.
They left me behind.
I hate them.
I won't be left behind.
What if they come back?
What if they don't?
Did they ever care about me?
Did I ever care about them?
Was there ever any reason?
Is this Yveltal's gift? Is this how long Xerneas's blessing lasts for the ungrateful? Is this the Balance of Zygarde?
I hate them.
Wouldn't a righteous god turn back Time? Wouldn't an almighty god bend Space? Wouldn't he who frees Spirits from their earthly shackles be fair in life and death?
I hate them.
I hate them and their gods.
I hate them.
I hate them.
I HATE THEM!
MY RAGE IS THE RAGE OF EVERY MAIDEN THAT HAS BEEN LEFT BEHIND.
Hilbert was panting with his hands on his knees.
The Froslass was stunned, though she still faced him. A trace of his Ideals lingered in her spirit, crackling over her as they locked her into contemplation of her own ideals.
"You'd had it rough. I get it." He managed to wave Fuego off from attacking immediately. "But you can't give up hope." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Put your dreams on my back, and I'll make 'em come true, if that's what it takes."
He fell back into a fighting stance, one fist in front of him while he gathered his power in reserve.
"I'm… I've gone too far," she said, and though her body was unmoving, her form flickered. "I've killed… by the gods, I'm a murderer."
"I made a promise to myself to save everyone that I can." He pointed at Yuki. "I'll save you if it means saving others."
Her eyes widened slightly, frozen as they were.
He'd seen her soul in its entirety. Everything that made it what it was. He was certain that she would never harm another living being again if he made it so. It was the sort of bet you could only afford to make with impossibly perfect odds.
"I'll show you who I am. If you can't believe in yourself," he said, rapping his protruding heart, "Believe in me, because I'll believe in you."
Yuki closed her eyes.
"Keep moving on and you'll grow a bit with each turn. That's…" he began, channeling his spirit into his fist, surrounding it with the electricity of his Ideals before clenching it. "That's how a drill works."
He held his hand out towards the Froslass.
"Communion," he said softly.
Lightning struck horizontally.
There was a night when the boy dreamed.
Hilbert carefully lifted the catatonic Ice-type and carried her back down the chimney, quickly followed by Fuego who watched his back.
"Would you like to speak with your grandniece?" Hilbert asked, trying to be gentle with his voice.
After a few agonizingly slow seconds, Yuki nodded, though it would be more accurate to say the sphere that centered her corporeal form rotated.
There was a moment of near silence which was only broken by the subtle pitter-patter of hailstones against the roof that remained.
Yuki sobbed, the cold fading somewhat as she pulled her spirit inwards and sunk like a stone. Empty clothes folded into the floor as the spirit wiped at her face. Their form flickered between that of a human and of a Froslass.
"I just," the spirit cried, their tears overlapping as they immediately froze, "I just wanted someone to care about me. I wanted to have someone that I could care about."
Hilbert looked towards Cheryl and waved her over. "Do you want to talk to her?"
"I can't understand her now," Cheryl said, before the uncertain look on her face turned into steely conviction. "But I'll do my best."
Yuki continued sobbing as Cheryl approached and kneeled next to her.
"Thank you," Cheryl said, hugging the Ice-type and seemingly ignoring the frost that began creeping up her sleeves. "You've done well. Thank you for keeping this place safe."
Hilbert looked off to the side and started counting the swirls in the peeling wallpaper, an awkward expression on his face.
"They left me all alone. I thought that if I watched the house, took care of it like they wanted me to while I was alive, they would care and come back."
"You feel strongly," Cheryl acknowledged, "Both hate and love. That's a strength. Thank you for feeling it."
Yuki was racked by another painful-to-even-hear round of sobs.
Apathy is the quiet killer, Hilbert thought, though with a tinge of irony. Apathy let spirits move on without a care in the world to leave behind. No one to hate, no one to love.
"I thought I could never be my own person. I wanted to be myself and still be cared about." The spirit sniffled. "Is that so much to ask for?"
Cheryl stroked the cloth that made up Yuki's back. "Thank you, great aunt Yuki. Without you, maybe my grandfather would never have met my grandmother. Maybe they never would have had my father. Maybe my father and mother never would have had me." She pulled the spirit closer. "And maybe I would never have met you here and now. Thank you."
They continued on like that for quite a while.
"You'll be heading out now, I presume?" Cheryl asked.
The two stood in the properly decrepit entry hall, no longer held in illusionary stasis. Dim afternoon light flooded in through the broken ceiling.
Hilbert secured his bag and belt of Pokéballs. "Yep. Places to go, people to save, things that go bump in the night to be punched in the face. That's how my life is."
"I suppose this is goodbye, then," she said somberly.
Hilbert tilted his head to the side and gave her an odd look. "Well, not forever. I imagine Yuki will want to visit every once in a while."
Cheryl intended to stay behind and work with Gardenia to get the building back into working order. If she was lucky, Gardenia would lend her a few of her gym trainers to keep order. It was the middle of Eterna Forest, and the rumors of Pokémon stealing thugs hadn't subsided.
Cheryl smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. You'll come with her, I hope?"
Hilbert did have a literal sixth sense, but he had the feeling that there was a seventh tickling at the edge of his perception. "Uh, I guess."
"Great! There's nothing better than being among friends." She looked off to the side, suddenly looking doubtful. "Well, that's what my grandfather told me."
The tangent about friends being people you just left behind died on his lips.
"Then I'm glad we're friends," Hilbert said, putting as much honesty in his voice as possible.
Cheryl smiled. "I'm glad as well."
"Tell you what," Hilbert said. "There are lab trainers under the same Professor that sponsored me coming through here soon. If you get your affairs in order by the time they come around, I'm sure they'd be happy to have you. They're real adventurers, I promise."
Cheryl's face lit up. "Really?"
"Listen, my whole thing might be Ideals, but I still care about the truth." His mother taught him well. "I wouldn't lie to you like that."
He gave her their descriptions and told her that Barry and Lucas would be challenging the gym, so she could keep an eye out on that front.
"Goodbye isn't forever," he called over his shoulder as he walked towards the gate, "It's only until we meet again."
"Good luck, Hilbert!" Chery called after him as she waved.
He waved back and willed the door shut behind him.
He was lucky to get a few minutes to himself with just the road, the trees, and the afternoon breeze to keep him company, before there was a disturbance.
Yuki appeared over his shoulder, appearing as a human but so lacking in density that normal people probably wouldn't be able to see her. "Now that formalities are out of the way, I believe we should talk about the terms of our agreement."
Hilbert tried not to grimace. "Right. The terms."
"I, of course, expect the best care both as a woman and regrettably," she made a face, before flickering to the form of a Froslass's core, "As a Pokémon, while we travel around this region. I regrettably must deign to grace the field of battle."
He held himself back from saying that she was just too snooty to get dirty, but it seemed to have slipped onto his face.
"I will allow your unspoken criticism to remain unspoken. Additionally, I require independent bedding no smaller than queen size, as even in death sharing a bed with a non-relative is improper, as well as three hours in the bath per day in order to keep my appearance and youthful complexion in order."
"Right. Is that everything?" he asked.
"Hm. For now."
"Great."
Hilbert immediately put all memory of the list out of his mind.
"And in exchange," she added, "You have my blessing to marry my grandniece."
Hilbert was trying really hard not to make a face.
"Which I remind you, I have the right as the last remaining relative to grant, and-"
"Yuki. I am eighteen. I don't have a job and my current responsibilities will probably get me killed before the year's out. I'm not having kids when I know it'll be my fault if they turn out worse than I did."
"Well, I want to be tied to my family again, and there's no better- Wait a moment. Have I missed something in the last few decades? Aren't teenage males supposed to be doggedly obsessed with sexual intercourse? Are you not attracted to someone who shares my metaphorical flesh and blood?" She sounded legitimately scandalized as she asked the last question.
"I'm not having this conversation with you right now," Hilbert said tiredly. "Can it wait until we're out of Eterna City?"
"Hm. I suppose. But I would quite like to have my great grand nieces and nephews be able to speak with me, and you seem of decent stock."
"I'm pretty sure that's not how my powers work."
"It's the best chance I have, isn't it?" she asked haughtily, before disappearing back into her anchor.
He had linked her to a Pokéball for record keeping sake, however, that wasn't what she preferred to possess.
Rather, it was a long, heavy white scarf that was red at the tips, like someone had unwoven the clothes of a Froslass and laid them out. It was wrapped around his neck and frankly, absolutely terrible at its job. It was colder on his skin than the February windchill. It might have made him feel badass if it wasn't making him the exact opposite of hot-blooded.
It would probably be rather nice in the summer, but at the moment, it was another annoyance.
His annoyance at the topic that Yuki had brought up had actually kept the idea in his mind.
Golett, do you think that our power can be passed down? He asked internally.
His heart pulsed.
What the hell are epigenetics?
There was another pulse, one which lasted two beats.
Okay, how the hell do you know what epigenetics are?
Long after the sun had set, Hilbert stood beneath the stars on the outskirts of Eterna City, the Cycling Road just inside his vision.
Double checking with double the sight of most, he verified that he and Golett were completely alone.
He kneeled down in the sodded sod and allowed Golett to begin sculpting a body.
He made the same motions in Eterna that he had in Sandgem, that he had in Jubilife, that he had in Oreburgh, and that he had in Floaroma.
There were two arms like tree trunks, woven with twigs. There were two legs like loamy earth, twined with weeds. There was a body with a spiral at the very center, devoid of life.
He meditated for a moment, taking inventory of the energy that he'd brought into himself throughout the past week, and pushing a bit of all of it into his forefinger.
"Singularity."
Minutes later, with the glow of the forest fading, he walked to the mouth of the open road, just beside the layers of earth that had been broken and left exposed in its construction.
"Ready?" he asked with a small smile.
His heart pulsed.
Earth rose and rolled into itself, creating the frame of a motorcycle before condensing. Golett's light shone out of a spiral where the speedometers would have been, the wheels smoothed to a near frictionless degree, and the seat settled like a bag of sand.
Hilbert hopped on and grabbed the handlebars, his smile only widening. "Let's go, Golett!" he shouted.
With a thrum like a thunderclap, the two sped off down Cycling Road.
AN:
A little bit rushed and late, I apologize for any QA failures.
For the record, I am not skipping Team Galactic. They are still involved in the story, I'm just putting my own spin on things. If they showed up directly at this point in time, there's a greater-than-zero chance that the plot would get derailed and Hilbert would end up in prison.
I know Rotom is canon for the Old Chateau. However, I watched the Pokémon Generations episode about it and decided that having a Froslass would be cooler. Rotom will show up later (does that count as spoilers?). Also, it's funnier this way.
Btw, the name Yuki comes from Yuki-Onna, a Japanese mythological figure which Froslass is based on. It makes little sense in-universe but that's whatever. She's more intelligible to Hilbert because she started life as a human instead of as a Pokémon or a conglomeration of excess spiritual energy. Again, it's funnier this way.
This wraps up the second arc, basically. I to VIII was sort of the intro, IX was filler, and X to XX set how I generally want things to go. Hilbert breaks off, meets someone new, opens up a bit, pushes through struggle, and moves on while not forgetting.
And I'm sure that the pattern is clear by now, but every chapter is named after a song I was listening to while writing. This one is from an Avril Lavigne album, but listen to the live version if you want to better match the vibes.
Please read and review! I get a kick out of seeing people enjoy and/or engage with my work.