Have you ever noticed that sometimes you don't cry at the moment you see something upsetting, but when you recoil away?
When I was twelve, my cousin died. He'd just graduated, then a week later he'd been in a fatal car accident, alone in his van and away from any family or friends. He was always the light of the family, and of pretty much the whole town. It seemed everyone I'd ever known was at the funeral. As we were all jam-packed in the hot, humid chapel, we were treated to a eulogy from his best friend, and I had to look away. I'd been sad and grieving throughout, but it was only then that the waterworks started. I'm sure we did some things after that on that day, but it's as far as I remember before it becomes a blur.
As I kept walking along the dungeon, the clouds covered the sky and the path grew darker in front of me. Good. Even though no one was near me anymore, it added another layer of protection to the tear streaks that had appeared on my face.
Since the funeral, I had learned that I had to face my problems head on. That waver, that glance away, that turn of the head: all simply gateways to weakness. If I wanted to be emotional, I would be, but I didn't have time. I had to know what was right, what actions to take. I had to determine what to do and be defined by my actions, not my feelings. The second I pulled apart to reflect would be when everything shattered. And, oh, there was a lot waiting to crash down at the moment.
My mind was screaming at me to not take this time, but it was as if my body was moving on its own. I could only watch. It's too late, now, anyway. I just had to find a place to let things out, and then get back to the group. Stars were scarce. The torch illuminated the path well enough for me, but I already couldn't see the campfire behind me. My step was too quick.
Looking to my left, I spotted the basin. The only sounds around me were the wind, my breath, and the occasional crackling from the torch. I sat down cross-legged and just stared at the water and the orange ripple the fire reflected onto it.
Inner calm was trying to take over, and I wanted it to. I wanted it to so bad. Why couldn't I just walk out of this plane of existence and wander back home? Such were my thoughts when I didn't have anything to gnaw on. It wasn't good. Spiralling some more, I thought back to the fact I'd realized back at camp: we weren't sure there was an end to this. We'd only assumed so.
The alternative utterly terrified me.
At home, as a human, I exercised, ate right, and made sure to get a good amount of sleep through the week. I'd heard of what a bad lifestyle could do to you in the long run and was determined to hold myself to a high enough standard to avoid complications. I played the violin, read, had fun and spent time with my family whenever I needed it. I'd thought I'd lived a pretty fulfilled life, or as much as I could being only fifteen. Except it didn't matter at all. Things happened on their own even with all the precautions I'd taken.
The worst part was that I didn't think I ever took my life for granted. I'd done all I could while I could do it, and it still didn't feel like it was enough.
As my hand reached for my face, it grazed one of the swirls at the side of my head. I still wasn't used to having ears that big, so my muscle memory had betrayed me by making me acknowledge them. I clenched my eyes shut at the sensation, and refused to look at the glistening water before me. I'd avoid my reflexion for as long as I had to. I didn't want to see those things. I wanted them gone. I didn't want to see them, touch them, or feel through them. I just needed them to disappear and be back home again.
I stayed like this for what felt like hours. I didn't want this, and I imagined myself coming home. I could see the white walls and blue roof, my mom and step-dad leaving for work, the stop sign on the street where I'd wait for the bus. Then the bus showed up and it— it got eaten. It got destroyed, crushed by the vortex and try as I might, I couldn't visualize it arriving to its destination. I pleaded my mind's eye to let me escape, and a horrible sob emanated from my throat before I could stop it.
At that point all I could do was lean back on the bricks, holding the torch upright with a lazy grip. I let my eyes leak, let my gut hurt, let the clouds pass me by. When tears ran dry, the sounds from the jungle hadn't changed one bit. There were no footsteps or hushed voices.
After all that, I had to admit to myself that no one would come to get me. Was that really what I wanted anyway? I'd gone for some alone time, did all but announce it, and that was what I got. No one would come. It just stung to have it confirmed. They'd stayed close to Micheal. Was I that alone? I sat back up and another pitiful sob rose up.
No. Face it. I'm done with this.
My lip didn't tremble and I didn't wipe any more tears. I stared deep into the basin, just focusing on where I was right that instant. The white bricks with an orange gleam. The unkempt grass. A small carved detail I hadn't noticed in the rock; a depiction of a pyramid. Cute. My body wasn't what it used to be. I closed my eyes and figured I'd practice a Hidden Power. I was barely aware I'd done it before hearing the water splashes in the pool. I needed to focus more on what I was doing! La dee dah, I was taking a moment for myself and wanted it done fast so I could do everything else!
Focus on what's around again. Bricks. Statues.
Huh. That was weird. I hadn't noticed that statue next to the pool the other day. Wasn't it that Grumpig thing Kieran had pointed out? Maybe there were doubles of statues. I sighed. This, and the carving? I was getting rusty. There was a difference between only putting attention into what mattered and being plain unobservant. And yet, it seemed I'd picked wrong on which facts to cling to. I didn't want to be aimless. Not here. I would walk home someday. And there was the sob again. Ugh, shut up!
Someone cleared their throat. I whipped my head around, brandishing the torch like some angry member of a witch hunting mob. Kieran jumped back in surprise and I lowered the weapon. There was awkward silence as he tried to calm his wing twitches down. I could only wipe tears and hope he hadn't noticed much.
Soon, he had it under control. "Hi."
"Hi," I answered.
"You, uh, left kinda abruptly. You doing okay?"
"No," I admitted, keeping responses short so I could concentrate on not being emotional. "Homesick."
The Beedrill paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side, somewhat taken aback. I was good at not being like this usually. It was nice to have it confirmed. He walked to my side and sat down, the both of us staring at the water.
"I feel that. I want to practice the trumpet so bad," he said.
"You play?"
"No, I'd sound like hot garbage but I still want to do it."
"Hm." Knowing Kieran, it was either a joke or a completely serious statement. He probably wasn't even trying to play competitive; he didn't have a conscious filter for that. Either way, what he said didn't elicit much of a reaction out of me. I let out a breath, too short to be a sigh. "What happens if we die here?" I asked.
Efficiency would usually be my excuse to get to the point so fast. But tonight, I was so tired that the words just tumbled out. Call it a reflex or habit. I wanted to get over this. An answer or certainty of any kind would stop my mind from racing so damn much. Kieran sighed.
"We don't," he answered, a sad smile on his face. "Pokémon don't die. We live forever."
He grinned and elbowed me. Whether or not this logic followed us here from the game, the thought was reassuring. I chose to believe it for the time being. He'd done such an effort to be a friend that I had to take those words to heart. I smiled back… before breaking into a final set of sobs again. Damn it!
"Okay, I literally cannot hug you or anything," Kieran said, "but uh, I'm patting your back in spirit."
"You aren't telling this to anyone," I sputtered, wiping my face.
He shrugged. "You don't bring up the 1984 presentation again and I tell them I found you chokeholding a bear."
"Nice try."
Feeling a bit better, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, grounding myself for real this time. I heard wind and breath, and leaves and water. In this state, I noticed something I hadn't before. I could still feel the water generated from my Hidden Power. With a little mental nudge…
"Yo, what?!" Kieran exclaimed.
I opened my eyes again to see many droplets of water rising above, floating a few feet over the basin. Funnily enough, the water still had that faint purple hue. I grinned. "My pool now."
"Excuse you, I made it poison first!"
"Nope, mine now. Let's head back."
I let the drops go, then they fell like soft rain into the basin. I got up. My legs were shaky but my step was stable. I figured some walking would get some circulation back in, and there was a little ways to camp left to go. Solid ground felt good under my feet. Down the path again, I started following Kieran, who didn't throw many glances my way. Some sliver of privacy, I suppose. I didn't feel like talking more. And I had had more than enough feelings for today. I let my eye wander to squint at the foliage and statues in the dark.
Suddenly, the clouds uncovered the moon, and I noticed something in the deep. I gasped, and Kieran's antennae twitched sharply at the sound.
"What?" He asked, jerking around.
I'd reflexively put up my fists and crouched slightly, but the problem wasn't that I saw something. The problem was what I didn't see.
One of the statues I was sure I'd seen tonight was gone.