I squinted at my sister in frustration as she turned down the offer to join my daughter and me in town. I had hoped to use this opportunity to discuss some things with her and maybe give both of us a chance to cheer up a bit, especially after the fight we had the day prior.
I had also grown worried about my twin. Since my arrival on Melemele Island last week, she had been jumpier than normal, spooking at small touches or softly-spoken words. Though I had always known her to dislike silence and stillness, she spaced out far more often than she should have, and her usual constant singing was quieted to just a small tune here or there.
From the few meals we had shared since I arrived, it appeared she had lost much of her appetite. Her normally toned muscles had begun to diminish, and her clothes were becoming loose. As well, she had clearly not been getting enough sleep. I could sometimes hear her tossing and turning in her bed as I walked through the hallway for a trip to the loo or the kitchen for a glass of water.
I wanted to sit down with her, away from the house that seemed to be the starting point for all the most recent trials and events, to talk. Though I admitted that many of her strange behaviors could simply be signs of her recovering from the poisoning earlier, if that were truly the case, then her healing was taking far too long, especially for her, who had remained healthy and strong for nearly all of her life. So, I wanted to get her away, even if only for a bit.
Instead, she looked back at me placidly, her pale brown eyes unbothered by my irritated glare. That was one of the few differences my twin and I shared. Her eyes were a pale brown like tea with cream, while mine were dark, like coffee. Or at least, that was how our father compared us. He said Sashi was as sweet as cream, but I was as hard as a strong cup of joe, just like our eyes.
"And that's not a bad thing, of course," Father had said after the very first time he told us his thoughts, laughing at my outraged rebuke. "Sometimes you need a nice refreshing drink, but other times you need a good, rough wake-up call."
Weird comparison, I know, but he is a peculiar man. My whole family is. And with as much as I grumbled about their crazy antics, you'd most likely assume I hated them, but I genuinely didn't. On the contrary, I found them to be a very entertaining bunch. I would just rather watch than join in.
Because Sashi and I were mistaken for each other so often as children, as just about every aspect of our looks was the same, I had ensured there were some differences in us for people to use when telling us apart at a single glance. The most significant difference I made was my hair. I cut mine short and kept it that way. Since childhood, I hadn't let it lengthen past my chin, and I had grown rather fond of the easy care and styling.
On the other hand, while she didn't care about her appearance as much as I did about mine, Sashi kept her thick, black hair long and halfway down her back. She usually left it hanging down flat against her head or, when she was working, up with a hair tie in a ponytail or bun.
The hair tie she used was one that had been given to her by her one and only friend, Cinny, when Sashi and her first began their Pokémon Journeys together at ten. It was made from a black stretchy fabric and had a single, shiny bead in the middle of it. Even though the thing was now over twenty years old, my stubborn sister still refused to part with it. Instead she'd repair what she could and go on using it as always.
Now, I watched my twin, her usually carefully brushed hair tangled and messy, as she walked off silently toward her door, refusing my offer with the claim of "needing to do her research".
Sighing, I took my daughter by the hand, and we made our way off my sister's property. I didn't want to cause another fight with her by insisting she comes with me, and I feared I may already be treading on thin ice.
Early this morning, I had fallen asleep swiftly after returning from the long shift in the hospital on Akala, but Himiko had grown grumpy at my refusal to start my day with her when she awoke. However, when I groggily promised her a treat in town, she settled down and let me get a few extra hours of sleep.
It had been a rather lovely day, as Sam had stated. The sun shone brightly but did not bring too much warmth with its glow. Despite last night's severe weather, the sky was a deep shade of blue now, with no clouds in sight. The constant sway of the ocean was soft and subdued as it brought in the smell of saltwater and fresh air.
Even with Himiko's short toddler legs, arriving in Hau'oli City didn't take us very long. We made one of our stops at the Pokémon Center to drop off the bird I used for air travel across the Islands. As much as I disliked the creatures that my sister and her husband, as well as my parents and other siblings, had devoted their lives to, I had learned they were a somewhat helpful tool in times of need.
The PokéAssist that Kabir used, for example. Though, in my head, it made much more sense to simply use a white cane when you were blind, the little blue and white creature he called Tinsel, did seem to add an extra sense of "sight" for him. And while I wasn't a fan of it, the bird that Kai had caught and raised for us to use for communicating while he was out to sea had been a very valuable asset. It was useful both in helping us stay in touch and even now, after his passing, to use for a far swifter flight than any ride pager Pokémon I had been provided with in the past.
Even if it weren't so useful, I didn't think I would ever be able to rid myself of it. There were many things I hadn't been able to part with yet.
I glanced down at the capture device on the counter as the pink-haired nurse took my information down before I left. The ball was primarily half green and half white. Four orange and one yellow dot adorned the green side of the casing. My husband had told me it was some kind of special PokébBall, but I didn't care enough when he informed me to devote it to memory then. I found myself regretting that choice as I tried to recall, even just the sound of his voice.
It had only been one year since his ship was caught in a storm and capsized while out at sea. There had been no survivors. Most of the bodies of his crew mates were recovered from the wreckage for their families. A small few were lost, their very existence seeming to have vanished off the face of the earth. Kai had been counted among the lost.
At first, I had searched desperately for any sign of his survival. I spent countless hours every day flying back and forth on his Pidgeot, scouring the ocean, hoping against all hope that I could find even one sign. After several weeks of long days flying, each one turning up empty, I had finally agreed with all the experienced sailors and islanders telling me there was no hope. They had been hundreds of kilometers from land when the accident took place. There would have been no way for him, or anyone else lost, to survive.
"Okay, Doctor Māhoe, we'll heal up your Pidgeot and hold onto it until you come back," the kind voice of this center's Nurse Joy told me, pulling my mind back to this day.
"Thank you," I said with a terse nod of my head.
I looked around for a moment to locate my three-year-old daughter and found her sitting by the water fountain, her tiny, caramel-colored hands sticking in as she tried to touch a small heart-shaped fish Pokémon contained within.
Though her skin tone was the same as mine, she still looked so much like her father. Her bright blue eyes shimmered like the sea. Her white-blonde hair was the same color as the sun. Even her laugh sounded so close to his that sometimes, I caught myself reminiscing about him while she played.
"Hunny, leave the poor thing alone. You'll stress it out, bothering it like that," I chided her softly as I walked closer.
"No, Mummy, I want to play with the fishy," she retorted, giving me a grumpy glare, her temper quick like mine, and then she returned to her playing. The little fish jumped out of the pool with a small leap and came back down, gently splashing my daughter with water. Rather than be irritated by the sudden soaking, Himiko laughed joyously and stuck her fingers back in. I saw the small pink creature swim up to her outstretched digits and rub its body along them, eyes closed in what seemed like happy affection.
"That Alomomola doesn't normally take so quickly to strangers!" the man at the shop's section of the center said with a laugh. "It seems your daughter has a way with Pokémon. She'll make a great Trainer someday." He addressed me conversationally.
I nodded my head curtly but kept my tongue silent. Himiko had always seemed to make faster friends with Pokémon than with children her own age. This annoyed me, as I would rather her not grow up to work with them. If it was a matter of her happiness, I would support her however I could though.
"Come on, baby girl," I called to her once more, placing one hand on her shoulder and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "We have one more stop to make, and then we can grab lunch from wherever you want. Does that sound good?"
"Coming, Mummy," she answered back, pulling her hands out of the water and waving to the Pokémon as it jumped into the air one more time, calling out to her as we left.
We made our way further into the city, nodding to the people who greeted me, either out of politeness or as someone I had met. Though I lived on Akala, a few of the islanders here knew me from my time spent training at the Melemele General Hospital under my mentor's tutelage. I turned into just that very building with my daughter. Walking to the door, I found the automatic function had been turned off. I knew we wouldn't be allowed inside, what with the flu going around. Instead, I rang the large blue button and waited for an answer from the front desk.
"Welcome to Melemele General Hospital. Is this visit for General, Surgical, or Emergency?" The voice of a man buzzed pleasantly over the intercom.
"General," I answered.
"Please note; due to the flu, at the current time, we are not allowing any admittance, but patient and staff," he said, then paused for a moment. "Please state the nature of your business."
"Doctor Māhoe to see Doctor Ōpūnui regarding patient Ashoka, Kabir," I answered, growing impatient, despite knowing the man was only performing his job.
"One moment, please," the receptionist said, sounding unconcerned by my tone. The line went silent for a short period. Himiko wiggled with boredom beside me, but she stayed obediently quiet as we waited for the voice to return.
"He'll be out in a few minutes," the intercom said, then silence once more.
The man wasn't wrong in his guess of timing as the old doctor appeared by the door and pushed it open far quicker than I had anticipated. His appearance was more ragged than his normally well-put-together self, but I knew yesterday's events had taken a more personal note for him and his family as well, what with Kukui's injury.
Stepping out into the bright sunlight, he greeted me with a polite "Doctor" and nodded his head at me, a dark look behind his normal smile. "I arrived only just recently, but I had a chance to look over everyone's charts. I had been wanting to speak to you as well," he told me as he walked over; his medical assistant, a Comfey, floated serenely by his head.
Most medical professionals on the Islands of Alola had some type of Pokémon they used during their work. Ōpūnui had offered to bring me a creature of my choosing when I finished my studies, but I had refused. Not only did my colleagues keep these beasts with them the whole time while working, but they also brought them home with them too. I did not desire to care for something like that at home after having it follow me around all day.
"I see you've brought Himiko too." The old man said with happy affection, dropping to his knees so my toddler could run into his outstretched arms for a hug. After Kai's passing, Ōpūnui had taken it upon himself to ensure Himiko always had someone to watch after her, knowing just how jumbled my grief had caused my mind to become back then and how much more work I would need to take on to keep up with the financial aspects of my life, seeing as I was still only a few years into my field. Being a widow now, I still found myself calling upon the older man to watch my daughter, though far less often in the last eight months, as he had recently adopted his twelve year old niece.
"I'm here to check on Kabir's condition," I said abruptly, trying to push the conversation on swiftly, not nearly as patient and loquacious as my old mentor. The senior doctor tended to ramble, and I just didn't have the energy to deal with that today.
"Nothing has changed. All his vitals are normal, and his brain functions haven't differed." He rose painfully to his feet, he knees giving a few loud snaps. His usual smile faded at the start of a serious topic. We walked slowly over to a stand of trees casting shade over a bench and took a seat. "I actually just got off the phone with your sister. She sounds unwell," he added with concern.
Himiko took off running, having received a small toy from my bag. She bounced about, calling out to no one in particular, making use of the large grassy field in front of us, as she made-believe one scenario or another.
"That's not too abnormal for him," I responded, wanting to avoid the topic of Sashi at the moment and instead looking over to watch my daughter play, unconcerned by the somber conversation between the adults. The Comfey by the old doctor's head flew off to join her in the game.
"Though, he hasn't had an episode like this since we were children," I confessed while I viewed the playing. "Before he learned to control his psychic abilities, he would be far sicker, far more often than he is now. An incident at school was what finally led us to learn that his powers had been causing his sickness. He had been keeping it under check for the most part since then. Yesterday was different, though. He had never, to my knowledge, tried to communicate with such a large group, especially with humans involved. And, well, you saw how he looked when he came in. I was certain we would lose him for a bit there."
"Does Sashi know that?" The older man asked, snatching my attention with a turn of his head, looking me in the eyes, worry filling their gray depths. "Does she know how worried you are about Kabir?"
"No," I shook my head, closing my eyes from his searching gaze as shame flooded through me. "I didn't have the heart to tell her, but I think she realizes just how serious this is."
"I see," he said thoughtfully, pausing briefly before the simple phrase. Ōpūnui returned his gaze to the field once more before releasing a long, weary sigh. "I believe it would be wise to bring a specialist in."
I looked up at these words, surprised at the swift decisions he was making here. It had barely been twenty-four hours since the incident. Kabir had been incapacitated for far longer than that in the past, as his medical records would clearly show. No doctor had offered to bring someone in when he fell ill before now but would instead wait a few days to see if he woke up, which, to this point, he always had.
"That's an awfully decisive choice to make so early in Kabir's treatment," I said, trying to search his gray eyes for a hint of an explanation.
"I have my reasons," he said simply, looking straight back at me, his serious expression now locked into place. Then he continued, "His charts show that he's been under the care of someone well-qualified in this particular field. So, I think we should bring her in on their care this time."
Their care? The question flashed across my mind. It wasn't like the old healer to have a slip of the tongue, so I could only imagine there was something deeper behind those words. I pushed down the curiosity to ask, "This Doctor wouldn't happen to be from Johto, would she?"
"Yes, she is. Why? Is there a conflict of interest?" he asked, dropping his voice and looking at me scathingly. I don't blame him. My quick temper and sharp tongue had put me in trouble far more often than I'd care to admit.
"Not in the way you'd think," I answered. I paused and took a breath as the man in front of me raised a curious eyebrow. "That Doctor is Kabir's mother."
