Chapter Text
“Is there anything besides the list you sent me that you want shipped?”
It was the first official morning in your new flat. You had picked up the keys just yesterday, the landlord being a kindly lady from Hoenn who offered you some tea and matcha cookies when you first met.
You scanned the empty walls of the studio apartment. It really wasn’t much to look at, but it would be home for the next six months, the length of your contract at the cafe. The ceilings were high and it was one big room, perfect for your Aurorus to stretch out and only take up the majority of the floor.
“No, thank you, though. Just those few boxes should be good,” you say, rubbing sleep from your eyes. It was lunch time in Galar, so it was just after sunrise here in Unova. While your body had adjusted from the time difference, you weren’t sure if your heart ever would.
There was a pause in your conversation with your aunt. You look at her, and she gives you a soft look. You think she’s about to say something as she opens her mouth, but ultimately decides against it.
You don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse, but you know you don’t want to ask.
A glance down at your phone confirms the time. 7:32. Ah, time to leave, then.
“Anywho, I have to get moving, but thank you for shipping those things, Hillery,” you say, letting out a sigh of relief. It would be nice to have some things from your old home to make this one feel more cozy. Not a lot, but a few blankets and clothes and art pieces.
After saying a brief goodbye to your aunt, you stand up and look in the mirror next to you. You nod to yourself after a quick once over, before grabbing your rucksack and throwing it over one shoulder.
Then you turn to the incubator, sitting rather ceremoniously on an empty cardboard box that Licorice had let you bring home until you could go out and get an actual futon and end table.
Snomlette was very close to hatching. You look back down to your phone, swiping through your texts quickly. You had agreed to meet Emmet this morning at 7:50 to show him the egg again, he said he would meet you at your station.
It was very thoughtful of him, you think. You were also very excited to see a Joltik in person, as he had said he was most likely to have one on him at the time. You had seen them before, obviously, but never up close and never as a direct comparison to your beloved snom.
Plus, you really liked the idea of making a friend in Emmet. You descend into the subway, waiting just a moment for the train to pull up before you nearly hop on in excitement. Thankfully, you grab a seat and set Snomlette in your lap before pulling out your phone to look at your texts.
Emmet (⚡🕷️)
wdym you dont know if you’ll have a joltik or not
they are verrrry tiny
I am Emmet
I cannot keep track of all of them
wait how small are they?
Pretty small! Usually 3 - 6 inches when they hatch
in? oh you mean inches. hold on
I am Emmet
I forgot you use the wrong system
it’s not wrong if the rest of world uses it
snom hatch at 10 -14 inches if my math is right
that seems verrrry big
at least I can keep track of them
sorry if that was too much
im sorry
It is okay!
I am Emmet!
I am not offended
I had a challenger
oh good!! I was worried I had gone and made you upset 😖
do not worry
you are verrrry fun to talk to 😁😉
you too!!
The train pulls into the station far too quickly for your liking.
You step off the train, head swimming full of thoughts of the snom line and different facts to impress Emmet. You glance down at your watch.
7:45.
Ah, so you were just a little early.
You glance around the busy station, bringing the egg around to your front so you could cradle it with one arm. You tap your fingers against the acrylic once, twice, thrice - looking around the station.
Surely being a little early wasn’t that much of an issue, was it? You don’t see him immediately, but eventually spot a hat that looks very similar to the one you remember. Wide brimmed, large red stripe. There was a small difference.
You look down at Snomlette, steadying your nerves. The cool acrylic against your fingertips helps ground you. With a rehearsed walk - one you had used when challengers approached you at the gym - you stride up to the taller man.
His back is to you, initially. You cradle the egg with one arm, before reaching up on your tiptoes to tap the man on the shoulder.
This is the precise moment everything fell apart.
7:46.
He turns around to face you, you notice his chrome colored eyes first. He looks confused, but it’s probably because you were a little bit earlier than the time you agreed upon.
But his frown is what rattles you the most - he looks upset. Did you interrupt him? Maybe you had made a mistake by showing up early, you think immediately.
Neither of you speak for a second, but his frown deepens. You open your mouth to apologize but end up just standing there like a magikarp, probably looking incredibly stupid in this moment.
The black jacketed man looks down at the egg, his eyes flashing in recognition for a second. He looks at you again, giving you a hard look. No wonder you looked familiar, you were the trainer on the league card that Emmet had been carrying around with him for the past week.
Emmet had taken nearly every chance he had to show off the card to every Unovan trainer he had the chance to. He had begun to justify showing off the card so frequently in a multitude of ways.
To Elesa, it was to show off the amount of Snom you were surrounded with - something that he compared to his Joltiks. To his Uncle Drayden, it was to show off how efficient they were for professional trainers (like you, for example) to write notes to gym challengers. To the old woman who ran the bodega near their apartment, it was the way your Aurorus’ mane shimmered with both holographic and glitter effects.
To Ingo, it was very obvious that his brother was smitten.
But why were you here, talking to him? He looks around at his watch.
7:48.
You, on the other hand, are terribly confused. Why was Emmet so upset today? Did something happen this morning that had made him upset? He had been so cheerful over your texts.
The man dressed in black opens his mouth to speak.
“Oh, my apologies -” is all he’s able to get out before you’ve bolted in the other direction, skittering through the crowds, your egg cradled against you firmly. His voice echoes across the station.
You take the stairs up to the surface two at a time, only coming to a stop when you reach the end of the block away from the underground entrance. You look back at it, before your eyes start overflowing with big, watery tears.
That could’ve gone worse, you think ruefully as you wipe some tears on your sleeve. Was this just something he did? Trick unsuspecting tourists into thinking they’ve made friends?
You step into the cafe, the scent of coffee overwhelming you in a way that you never thought possible. It’s warm, filling your body’s nooks and crannies in a way you needed at the moment.
Licorice is already striding up to you, holding your latte in one hand and a clipboard in the other. She hasn’t looked up from her clipboard yet, but hands you the paper cup with your name written in her script on the side.
“Alright, so, the game plan for today is you’re gonna be the main Cafe Master, so Regan and Klara will be on deck,” she begins. You sip your latte, grateful that Licorice had that weird ability to make the perfect drink every time. It’s cozy, and reminds you of home. Of warm couches and thick blankets in Circhester.
“Oh, we got the uniforms in, too, so at some point I want you to try yours on so I can order more,” she finally looks up from her clipboard, before her face loses all color. You sniffle, but sip your latte again, ready for her to continue with her notes.
Immediately, she grabs your wrist and pulls you over to one of the oversized couches on the side of the room. She sets your egg and bag down next to you after she hastily removes them, then pushes your shoulders down firmly. She’s forcing you to sit down, and you sink easily into the plush dark chocolate armchair willingly.
“What happened?” she asks, sitting across from you, her own drink suddenly in her hands. Her clipboard is on a nearby chair, thrown off to the side.
You frown into your paper cup, debating on how much you should tell her. You do consider Licorice a friend at this point, but she was also your boss so you didn’t want to overshare or come off as foolish or naive even though she was probably the same age as you.
“It’s nothing, Miss Licorice, really,” you nearly whisper, though you try to convey how grateful you are through your words.
“Ugh, I told you to stop calling me miss, it’s weird,” she says, throwing herself back into her chair, arms crossed. She looks like she’s pouting as she says, “we’re gonna stay here until you tell me what happened.”
You look at her, finally laughing for once. Her expression changes to one of a small smile, but her posture doesn’t change. You take a deep breath, before everything comes out at once. You tell her of the train ride to the pokemon center, how you were so desperately tired and how a man named Emmet helped you to your destination. You pull out his business card at this, and watch in confusion as Licorice makes a face but doesn’t say anything.
You continue, mentioning your league card and how you gave it to him only to realize that Unovans don’t use league cards, so now he had this obnoxious card of you instead of a normal business card. Licorice demands a copy of your league card at this, and wants a signed copy, but other than that waits for you to continue.
Finally, you come to this morning - you relay how you left early to be at the subway station and had found him again, but instead he looked so angry and upset. And then when he spoke, his voice was so loud, you didn’t even comprehend what he was saying to you, just that it was incredibly loud and focused entirely on you. You had run away before he had a chance to say anything else, and that’s how you ended up here.
At the end of your story, Licorice sits up, pulling out her phone.
“What color was the man you spoke to this morning wearing?” she asks, opening her photo album.
You pause, thinking about that question. That was a weird question, you thought, but mindlessly answer, “black and red.”
Licorice pulls up a photo of a man in black and red. He’s frowning and pointing at something while a Chandelure floats dreamily behind him.
“This is the man you saw this morning?”
You confirm by nodding your head. Licorice’s eyes widen for a second, before she laughs, full bellied and loud. You don’t know what to say, you’re so confused, but Licorice recovers for a second before she swipes to another photo.
It’s two men this time. One in a white hat, one in a black hat. There’s a poorly photoshopped flower crown on both of them, but you can still make out that it’s the same hat you had seen before. The man in white is smiling, while the one in black is frowning.
They were twins.
Fuck.