back | home

Info:

The fifth chapter of "Radio Static," in which Ingo has a visitor.

DISCLAIMER: Pokemon and all of its characters belong to Nintendo/Game Freak; I'm just borrowing them for fun.

Words: 1,665

The cold winds stung his face and hands as they whipped to and fro. Sneasler cried at him, her meaning clear: we should already be inside, what are you doing?

“Forgive me, Sneasler,” he apologized. “But it seems we still have a stray passenger out here.”

The figure in question was only a couple yards away, but the snow was already so thick, he could hardly even make out their silhouette.

He and Sneasler had hardly had enough time to make their way back before the storm had kicked up so badly he could scarcely see. He doubted that this person would be able to find their way to wherever they were meant to be safely in this weather.

“Hello!” he bellowed, his thundering voice still heavily obscured by the wind whirling around them. “Dear passenger, this is no weather for traveling in! Please, follow me!”

To his relief, the figure seemed to have heard him, as they approached until he could make out some details. The first thing he noticed was the uniform - the second was her face.

“Warden Ingo?” she asked, once she was close enough.

“Miss Akari! What in the world are you doing so far out in this weather?” he replied.

She seemed to go a bit sheepish at that. “I wasn’t actually meant to be out so late… but I lost track of time, and by the time I noticed, I could barely see through the storm.” she confessed.

He sighed, but couldn’t help a twinge of fondness at her youthful enthusiasm. He didn’t know her very well just yet, but somehow, the situation felt familiar. The reminder of all that he had forgotten made him a bit sad, so he did his best to put it out of his mind.

“Well, Miss Akari, you are welcome to stay here until the storm passes. Come, I’ll start a fire,” he offered. She brightened up at the suggestion and bounded along after him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Something about her reminded him of… someone, maybe a few someones. He thought he remembered a ponytatail like hers, but curled and fluffy where hers was straight and soft. Someone, just a bit younger than her, trailing after him like a ducklett after its mother. Bits and pieces, but nothing concrete - he wasn’t even sure they were part of the same picture.

Sometimes he just couldn’t help but think of it, but be reminded of things that he couldn’t actually recall. Sometimes, though, it was just… nice. Homely, maybe. That kind of familiarity with something, anything, even if it was just an idea, was something he yearned for, maybe clung to just a bit too much.

As they stood by the entrance with the fire crackling behind them and the wind whipping in front of them, he noticed Akari glancing at him periodically, as though she didn’t want him to know. She seemed like she wanted to say something.

“Is something the matter, Miss Akari?” he queried.

She startled just slightly. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. It’s just…” she began.

“Yes?” he encouraged.

She fidgeted with her hands, then said, “Well, I wanted to ask you something, but I don’t want to overstep or anything…”

Confused, he did his best to put her at ease.

“You can say whatever you’d like, I’m sure I won’t mind,” he assured her.

“If you’re sure…” she said, still hesitant.

“Certainly. Anything you’d like to know, I’d be happy to answer to the best of my ability,” he said.

“So,” she started. “You’re like me, right?”

He scratched his head, feeling lost. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied.

“You’re not from here,” she stated plainly. She met his gaze, and in her eyes, he saw that familiar desperation for something, anything to know her.

Ah.

He answered, “No, no I’m not. Why do you ask?”

“I just…” she sighed. “My home… I can’t remember a thing about it. All I know is that everything here feels… different, like I don’t belong. I just can’t forget about it, even for a minute, no matter how hard I try. I… I wanted to know, could you tell me anything about where you come from?

“I just… I want to know if I’m the only one. I didn’t want to forget, but… I don’t know.”

He felt her words weigh terribly on him. To hear his own worries reflected back may have brought him some sense of ease, in that solidarity. But to hear it from such a young girl, to see her so downtrodden so early in life broke his heart.

“...You should sit down; I believe this is going to be a long conversation,” he said, finally. She slowly sat in place, and he was quick to join her. For a moment, they just sat and watched the snow swirl in the air.

“I am also like you, in that I have entirely forgotten where I came from. Sometimes, small parts of it come to me, but these are only the barest of traces. I’ve often wondered about it, myself - where it is that I come from, and how I came to be here,” he told her.

“It feels, however, as though I am missing something - something vital, yet without any proper memories, I haven’t a clue who or what it could be,” he finished.

She was quiet for a moment, and looked down to the floor, contemplating. She looked back up at him, something empathetic, knowing in her eyes - again saying “I’m the same as you.”

“I feel like that a lot, too,” she said, fidgeting with her hair. “I think… there are a lot of important people I’m missing. I don’t have any names, or any faces, but… they’re there, in here,” she said, putting a hand over her chest and smiling wistfully.

She sighed, but she didn’t seem as weighed down as she had before. There was something youthful, spirited in her face, now.

“I try to just keep holding onto that, onto them. I keep hoping, because hope’s really all I have. I can’t afford to give up, because I know I’d want to go back if I could remember,” she said.

She chuckled, “Maybe it’s cheesy, but… even if I don’t remember, I think my heart does. Sometimes, when I’m around those close to me here, I get this warm feeling, and it reminds me of all the people I can’t remember. It makes me sad, but it also keeps me going.”

Ingo leaned back a little, letting her words seep in like the warmth of a nice, hot soup after a long day.

He felt himself smile - on the inside, at least. Akari’s own outside smile made him think she understood, anyway.

“I believe I know exactly what you mean,” he said, then faltered. He figured that if there was any time to ask, it was then, but did he really want to burden her with it?

She noticed his hesitance, then lightly bumped her shoulder against his.

“Hey, my turn now - what’s up?” she asked.

He didn’t even try to fight a little huff of laughter - there she went again, reminding him. He could almost see long, tightly coiled hair and determined brown eyes. He wondered if he perhaps had daughters, where he came from. Somehow, this felt just to the left of that.

“There’s something else, about my memories,” he started.

She gestured for him to go on, saying, “Tell me, I might understand.”

He cleared his throat, looking back out at the storm, and began. “There’s something I’m missing, something other than my memories, or simply not belonging. It’s… like I should be feeling something else, like I’m missing one of my senses, almost. I’m not sure. All I know is that it feels as though it’s of great importance. However, I haven’t a clue of what it could be.”

She looked at him a bit strangely, contemplating. He turned to face her again, and she met his gaze, almost searching. It was a strange sensation, to feel as though this child could see straight through him.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I don’t know what it could be, either. It doesn’t sound familiar. Sorry I can’t help more.”

“That’s quite alright, Miss Akari,” he said. “In fact, I had feared this might be the case. I’ll simply have to figure it out some other way.”

She closed her eyes and crossed her arms, then leaned backwards with her legs still crossed, humming exaggeratedly.

“I think I have an idea… I’m not really sure if it’ll be any help, though,” she said.

“I assure you, any ideas you may have would be better than continuing on with none, even if they do get dismissed,” he told her.

“Well, then, I was thinking,” she started. “Maybe the problem is the way you’re thinking about it. Maybe it’s not really about your memory at all. Maybe it’s just… you.”

There was silence between them for a moment, before her eyebrows shot up and she instantly backtracked.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” she barked, embarrassed. “I meant, maybe it’s… maybe there’s something about you, something unique, but now that you’re here… it’s gone, somehow.”

“...Perhaps you’re right,” he said. He found that he wanted to go back home, wherever that was, more badly than ever.

He glanced out at the storm to see that it had cleared in the time they had been talking. Akari noticed, too, and stood, dusting off her trousers.

“I should get going. This was… nice,” she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back, in his own way. “It was. You’re a wise girl, Miss Akari. Stay safe, don’t forget to check safety,” he reminded her.

She nodded and said, “You too.”

She paused at the exit, then turned slightly to look back at him. “If nothing else,” she said, “It sounds as though there’s something, someone important waiting for you, too.”