Work Text:
It didn't often snow in Nimbasa City, being so close to the desert that composed Route 4, but every so often cold air would blow down from Twist Mountain and snow would descend down upon the city.
Emmet personally did not mind the snow, Ingo was the one more susceptible to the cold after all, but he did admit that it was a hassle. While Gear Station was always prepared for the eventuality of a snowstorm and the issues it would bring their lines, having all the necessary equipment to deal with it of course, that didn't guarantee that no delays would occur. Especially on their tracks that went above ground, such as the Brown Line.
He much preferred it when things were on schedule, so it was only natural that he would find slight annoyance in anything that disrupted that.
However, there was nothing that Emmet could do to impede nature from taking its course, so he merely trudged along to Gear Station just ahead of Ingo.
Now, this was a routine that wouldn't bend to the whims of just anything. Emmet always got up early enough to make the slight detour to Ingo's apartment every morning, where his twin would dutifully be waiting for him so that the two could walk to Gear Station together. Both of their complexes were on the outskirts of Nimbasa City, away enough that they didn't get swept away in the crowd of tourists excitedly flitting to the different battling and entertainment facilities they offered but still close enough to walk to work.
Both appreciated the walk to the station, getting a chance to stretch their legs in preparation for a long day on the rails, and after having done it for years now it was simply another part of the day.
But due to the storm, the streets were wet with dirtied snow, more slush than anything else due to all of the foot traffic and general traffic as well. There was no danger of slipping on ice with the way that the sidewalks were doused with salts the night prior and the hundreds upon hundreds of steps that had been taken over it since.
Trudging through the snow in his boots, Emmet took slight delight in the way his firm steps stamped down on the partially melted snow, even if it was a more unsightly brown and dark grey than the white canvas' Ingo and he would delight in as children in their hometown.
Ingo took more care to mind where he was walking but didn't falter in his pace following after Emmet.
Bar the snow, it should have been a regular morning for the two of them. They were making small talk as they walked, garnering small looks as they debated the merits of keeping certain items up in the Battle Shop. Particularly the ones from the 'Orb Line' as Emmet liked to refer to it as. Emmet was of the opinion that the items had their merits when regulated, Ingo was more unsure. Hesitant.
"We cannot control what trainers do with those particular items once they're out of the bounds of battling facilities," Ingo said, and given the tone of his voice, he knew that Ingo’s frown was genuine. He hummed in acknowledgment of his twin's point.
That day they had been on a regular commute to Gear Station.
"Well how about this, if you feel that strongly we can bring our concerns up to the League. Let them decide. What do you think, Ingo?" Emmet had asked, and because it had been a completely normal morning he looked over his shoulder entirely expecting that his brother was just a step behind him.
But Ingo wasn't.
Emmet stopped his march, hands falling to his side.
"Ingo?" he said, glancing about.
Emmet could have sworn that Ingo was walking with him.
There weren't too many people roaming the streets at that time of day, so Emmet's eyes darted to and fro, expecting to see his brother's black uniform coat somewhere in between. His eyes stalled on a bagel stand at the end of the block and set his shoulders as he backtracked towards it.
It was entirely possible that Ingo had paused to grab the two of them breakfast- something that while Ingo rarely forgot, Emmet himself did have the tendency to race out of his apartment without even glancing at his fridge. Emmet did tend to bustle forward quickly, and while it was strange that he didn't announce, loudly at that, what his intentions were Emmet could forgive him just this once since the cold did often make Ingo more sluggish than normal.
He was fully expecting to see Ingo shuffling the right amount of bills out of his wallet, but the closer that Emmet got the more his stride stuttered to a slow halt.
Ingo was not by the stand.
Glancing at the man behind the counter, Emmet put on his most pleasant smile and spoke, "Excuse me. I am Emmet, did a man who looks like me stop by here?"
"Sorry, I don't think so," the man said and Emmet's smile almost faltered. Strange, very strange.
"Ah, I see. Thank you regardless," and turned around.
Walk with a purpose; walk with a smile. Nothing was wrong. Don't overreact.
He opened his Xtransceiver.
Ingo was at the top of his contact list, favorited for convenience and because simply who else would be Emmet's favorite? He selected it, bringing the device closer to his head to hear better.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
Voicemail.
Hm. No, that was fine. It didn't lead straight to voicemail, which meant it wasn't out of power. And if Ingo wasn't answering...
"Ah," Emmet said under his breath. "He must have realized he left it behind and gone back for it. Yup! That makes sense."
Emmet could easily imagine Ingo realizing and returning back to his home posthaste, forgetting to inform Emmet in his hurry.
Still. What a time for Ingo to act consciously about hollering across a distance to reach Emmet. He wouldn't have even needed to try that hard to do so. The sounds of cars honking faintly and construction workers drilling away stood no chance against the decibels his twin could reach.
He tried again.
Voicemail.
"Ingo," Emmet said, not hanging up before the beep, deciding to leave a message. "Next time make sure to let me know where you're going before running off. I was worried for a moment! Call back when you hear this message. I will see you later for work. Bye."
He felt uneasy doing so, but he had to put trust that his brother would be fine. After all, Ingo was one of the most formidable trainers in the region. He wouldn't get waylaid so easily.
Emmet must continue down his own tracks! They would converge at Gear Station like always. And then Emmet could gleefully scold his brother for acting without thinking, finally getting his turn to do so after all of the times that Ingo had done it to him.
Things would be fine. Emmet hurried to the station, quickly checking the PC box that they had in their office, taking a head count of all of Ingo's and his Pokémon.
Strangely, all of Ingo's Pokémon were accounted for. Huh. He must not have brought home some of them overnight. That was fine. Their apartments weren't big enough for all of them to roam after all. That's what the PC boxes were invented for.
But that meant Ingo currently had no Pokémon on hand. That made him nervous.
No. Don't think like that. Things were fine.
Ingo would show up soon. Ingo wouldn't delay.
Of course, he wouldn't. No need to get so worked up. It had been a normal day.
Barring the snow.
(With a reddened wet nose and fingers numb from packing snow tightly, Emmet hurled a snowball over and through the tree line, his grin stretching across his wind-kissed cheeks. With a sharp thud and a loud exclamation, he knew he hit his mark.
A blur of white and a sharp cry of his own, he teetered backward and fell on his back. His thick snow coat protected him from harm and he sunk ever so slightly into the snow.
He deigned to continue laying there, looking up at the blank grey sky. It was a nice minimalistic view, only blemished by the little specks of flurry hurrying their way down to the earth.
To then be obscured by Ingo's frowning face, nose, and cheeks equally red as he breathed out puffs of white, made visible by the frigid temperatures. He was tightly wrapped in far too many layers, many more than Emmet himself had, that it made him look like a charred marshmallow.
"There's no way that last hit was the one to do you in," he stated, matter-of-factly down at Emmet. "You're far too competitive to give up like that."
"I am Emmet," he responded. "And Ingo is too good at snowball fights. I am downed. Lean closer to hear my dying words?"
And Ingo, ever sincere, did exactly that.
With ungloved, and freezing cold hands, he zipped them up and between the flaps of the black trapper hat, making sure they touched the previously warm and insulated neck of his cold intolerant brother.
As expected, Ingo squealed in shock and from the cold, jerking back until he tripped and collapsed into the snow too. But unlike Emmet, who had laid down ever so gracefully, he kicked his arms and legs frantically trying to pull himself up.
"Emmet!" Ingo whined and were he not as loud as all can be, Emmet was sure that his unrestrained laughter would have drowned him out in that moment.)
It took two years and nine months of non-updates and false reports before Emmet heard back anything substantial regarding the case of the missing Subway Boss Ingo.
And it came from a call from Sinnoh of all places.
His Rotom Phone- a relatively newer piece of technology that was phasing out the Xtransceiver in Unova, but unabashedly Emmet still preferred his over the smartphone, always expecting a call that would never come- had rung incessantly until he picked it up.
"Hello?" Emmet's voice had never been the most expressive not like, well, but he was ashamed to admit that it still held the barest glimpses of hope every single time he answered a call.
An accented voice spoke on the other end, "Hello, am I speaking to Emmet Cardinal?"
Leaning back slightly to check the number, Emmet answered, "I am Emmet. Who is this?"
"This is Nurse Joy of the Pokémon Center in Jubilife City in Sinnoh." Emmet's brows furrowed at hearing that. Why would a center from another region be calling him?
He squashed down the growing hope. It wasn't smart to encourage naivete.
Nurse Joy continued, "Recently we had a patient admitted who, upon intake, identified himself as a man named Ingo-" Emmet's heart just about stopped. "-which was also corroborated by another patient whose name I cannot currently disclose to you."
White noise seemed to fill Emmet's brain, and he shook his head in an attempt to dislodge it so that he could pay attention to the voice on the other end of the speaker.
"It's-" his throat did its best to close up, but he forced the words out. "Is it really him?" Was his brother really found? Found before the time limit that narrowed down every month, every week, and every second, just before the third year mark that was closing in. When Emmet would have to petition a declaration of death in absentia.
Nurse Joy didn't immediately answer, and with how shot Emmet's nerves were, he gripped his phone tighter. He focused on the sound of a keyboard clicking in the background.
She returned, "We at the center were made aware of Ingo Cardinal's missing person case upon an interview with members of the International Police, however, it was recommended by the lead detective that we get in contact with you for identification confirmation on whether the patient truly is Mr. Cardinal."
"Why can't Ingo confirm for you?" Emmet asked, tense.
"The patient is not currently in a state to do so."
It was a trial and a half to force his muscles to relax. He could control his breathing, he could. It made sense that Ingo would not be able to answer. He was admitted to a Pokémon Center. He was a patient. He had been missing for nearly three years.
Ingo was bound to need some sort of medical care. He was getting help. Ingo was fine.
"I see. How is he?" Emmet asked, needing to know what his brother's current state was. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.
More typing. Some clicking. Then, "I am not at liberty to reveal the patient's information to you at this time. However, from the case file that was shared with me, I see that you are listed as Mr. Cardinal's health care proxy. Upon identification, I will gladly share his condition with you."
Great. Wonderful. Not.
If Emmet wanted to know how Ingo was doing he would need to get to Sinnoh posthaste. But...
"It will take some time before I am able to arrive in Jubilife," he stated. He needed to get his affairs in order at Gear Station, find someone to house sit- who knew how long he would have to stay over there... how long before Ingo could return home- or even take care of all of their Pokémon. His travel permit only allowed him four, even though legally he could carry six at a time in Unova. Then there was also booking a flight on such short notice, and those were expensive, nearing up to thousands of dollars. Flights bordering on twenty-four hours long, maybe even longer considering he lived in Unova. Likely a layover too...
"Take your time to arrive, no need to rush. The patient is currently in a state of quarantine and cannot receive visitors regardless," Nurse Joy interrupted his train of thought.
"Quarantine?!" Emmet exclaimed, taking a breath to calm himself when the nurse didn't answer. "Right, right. Patient confidentiality. Ok. I am Emmet and I will arrive in Jubilife City as soon as I can. Is this number your center's contact cell?"
"It is, sir," she confirmed. "We will await your arrival."
"Right. I will make a transfer from my train to yours at the soonest possible station," he told her. He considered ending the call there, but reconsidered and spoke again, "If you are able, may you let Ingo know, that I missed him verrry much and that I am going to be by his side again as soon as possible?"
That wasn't what he wanted her to tell Ingo at all. But those were the words he chose to say instead.
"Of course. I am sure that he will be glad to hear that." That should have soothed Emmet's frazzled heart, but there was a twinge of... something in her voice that he did not like. It was dripping with... guilt. Something about that statement made her feel guilty.
And he would only find out what once he got to Sinnoh. Which he needed to get a jump start on if he wanted to get on the first available flight. He was tempted to call up the Gym Leader in Mistralton City to see if she would be willing to fly him but canceled that ticket before activation. He hardly knew her, only through the League. It would be far too presumptuous to ask something of that nature.
Oh but how much he detested flying. And oh how he wished that there was some sort of cross-regional train that could connect his region with the others, like the Magnet Train between Kanto and Johto.
Nonetheless, he had a long trip ahead of him to plan so he bid his goodbyes to the Nurse Joy, and let the Rotom Phone return to its active state to float away from him.
This was everything that he had wanted. Ingo was found. He was going to see Ingo again soon.
So why did he feel as though something horrible was hanging above his head? Waiting to drop down to crush him beneath its weight?
It must have been the lack of information. The need for Emmet to come in person to identify Ingo- he had told them his name but couldn't confirm his own identity? How did that work?- and the fact that Ingo needed to go through quarantine.
What worried him the most... was that Emmet's power as a health care proxy superseded his position as Ingo's emergency contact.
He didn't like it. Nope. He didn't like it one bit.
His Galvantula, likely noticing his stress, chittered at him and pawed at his leg, climbing her way up the couch to sit on his lap. He absently pet her, the sensation of her coarse hair soothing him minutely.
"Sinnoh," he breathed out incredulously, sinking into the back of his couch.
They had never been to Sinnoh. His brain just couldn't wrap around why would Ingo have reappeared in Sinnoh of all places.
(That wasn't true. Ingo and Emmet had visited Sinnoh a verrry long time ago when they were just toddlers. Their parents, Easton and Weston Cardinal, didn't often have time for vacations and Unova was so far away from all the other regions, but they still made a few attempts over their childhood to bring them both to new places to experience all the different ways to co-exist with their Pokémon.
Being so young at the time, neither of the two twins had found much interest in being dragged to the different attractions and institutes, although they did find certain aspects interesting like the eye-catching contests held in Hearthome City, even then their attention couldn't be held for long.
The only instance where their curiosity had peaked was when they had toddled off from their parents in the middle of a pop-up history gallery hosted in Canalave City. Neither of the twins knew a substantial amount of Sino back then, they had learned just enough that if they got lost they could ask for help and be directed back to their parents.
But glancing between the exhibits, eyes glancing right over the unfamiliar text, Emmet recognized one word among them all.
Because it was, at that time, his most favorite word- one he excitedly exclaimed out loud, "Ingo!"
Ingo who had been holding onto his hand, even if his head was turned away, looked over at Emmet, who swung their hands wildly from where they were connected. "Emmy?"
"Ingo!" Emmet repeated, tapping excitedly with his free hand the black museum placard. "Ingo! Ingo! Ingo!"
Looking over, and seeing the name that he had just mastered learning how to spell in white text, Ingo joined his brother in excitement and exclaimed loudly back, "Ingo! Me!"
Their parents found them soon after, chattering Ingo's name over and over, as they stood in front of the display that they could not understand at their reading level in either language.
While their mother, Easton, cooed over them, and adjusted them so that they would face her camera for a quick, "And adorable! Honey, look at them!" photo, their father looked around for one of the gallery attendants to inquire more about the display.
After all, until then, he had never heard of a historic figure sharing the same name as his son and would love to know more about the mysterious warden.
The memories of such a trip had long since faded but if Emmet found the time to dig out his mother's photo journal he could show Ingo when he came back to Nimbasa.
Because when he returned, they would both need it to rekindle their memories.)
The first month that Ingo went missing, Emmet wished that he could just focus on finding his brother. But the world didn't bend to his whims, and he had to go to work, had to keep the subway running while putting his faith in the dwindling search parties hoping beyond hope that Ingo would be found quickly and not a moment sooner.
Emmet had to work. Ingo would be upset if he didn't.
Emmet needed to pay the bills. He needed to pay Ingo's bills.
Because it had been a straight shock to his system when Ingo's landlord sent him an email detailing that while understanding the situation, they needed to discuss whether they needed to begin an eviction process or if Emmet would pay for the lease up until it ends or Ingo was found and could resume paying for it himself. Whichever came first.
Ingo had, technically, missed the previous month's rent. They were contacting him as a courtesy instead of moving ahead with the formal process automatically, as Emmet hadn't contacted them first. As if that was some sort of kindness and not the kind of news that made him want to empty his stomach.
He didn't even realize that was something he should have done, having honed all his focus on finding Ingo.
The fear that he had come so close to losing all of Ingo's belongings wasn't even something on his mind. Now it was.
So Emmet paid for Ingo's rent every single month on top of his own. All the way until Ingo's lease broke- and Ingo still was missing, still wasn't home- and he had to come to pack up all of his personal items.
Somehow, that was when it cemented in Emmet's mind that things wouldn't be the same again. Someone else would live in the apartment that Ingo had spent so much time decorating and filling with mementos. Photos on the wall replaced by people who were not Emmet and Ingo. Pokémon filling the space that had been filled formerly by his brother's most beloved companions.
It was all too much. Emmet's heart ached and creaked under the strain of all the moving boxes he filled.
He had no room in his apartment to keep everything. Certainly not any of Ingo's furniture. Not the beat-up couch that Emmet frequently crashed on during visits that broached into the night, not the armchair that Emmet knew his brother liked to sit down and read on during quiet evenings, hot tea on a dish from a set he got at a street fair beside him on his coffee table. None of that would fit in his home no matter how much he wanted it to, just to have remainders of the faint smell belonging to that crappy cologne Ingo loved to wear. So that he could pretend that Ingo was still around.
Emmet paid for a storage unit to hold onto Ingo's belongings. His brother would be back for them soon. Ingo could stay with him until they got him another apartment- or even better, he could sign onto Emmet's lease and they could room together, something that they hadn't done in years. Hah. That was a nice thought, but likely Ingo would want his own place again. A sense of agency. Emmet could settle for them sharing the same complex at the least.
Because when Ingo was found, Emmet didn't want to let him out of his sight ever again.
And then Ingo was found, and Emmet had traveled all the way to Sinnoh just to see him again and Emmet was so happy- happy beyond years. His smile had spread across his cheeks so wide even as tears caressed his face.
He confidently confirmed that that was his brother- it couldn't have been anyone else. Sure, Ingo looked more... scraggly was a kind word to use, than before. But they were twins. Emmet would always be able to recognize his twin, even in a crowd of Dittos, or Zoroarks, or even Mews.
And then. And then.
Nurse Joy had the authorization to inform Emmet about his brother's condition.
Ingo had amnesia. Ingo had been sent to the past.
Emmet needed to confirm his identity in person because Interpol could not confidently say whether he was the missing Subway Boss or not. Whether he belonged in that time, or if his actual place in history was the past and not the present. Ingo had amnesia. He could not confirm it either.
His brother needed to quarantine to ensure that any pathogens he brought back from the past did not spread. And that the new pathogens that had developed when he was away didn't get at his unprotected immune system. His vaccinations needed updating.
Ingo was malnourished. There were signs of head trauma, improperly healed but from years ago. Perhaps even from his initial misplacement. His back showed a mild spinal cord injury. Mild. Nurse Joy assured him that they could correct it. Ingo would need a back brace, however, for the foreseeable future.
Emmet was able to invoke his power as a health care proxy because Ingo's consent to any medical treatment was dubious at best. He couldn't remember anything about modern procedures and the Joys did not feel comfortable taking his uninformed consent, because even upon explanation of them Ingo just couldn't understand what they were saying. Was struggling to understand. And they felt much better going forward with treatment if Emmet was there to approve of it.
The entire time he had been missing, Ingo had been suffering from amnesia. In an environment that held no reminders of his past, of his loved ones. Nor even his Pokémon. All the while that Emmet had almost lost Ingo's only concrete ties to his past by not getting in contact with his former apartment management first thing when he initially went missing. It made Emmet want to grab past him and shake himself by the shoulders because he had no idea how close they were to losing everything for Ingo.
His brother not remembering him or his own Pokémon by name stung. But at least Ingo had seemingly held onto some aspects of them, if the way his eyes lit up upon seeing Emmet enter his hospital room, calling out to him as, "The man in white." And he had even wept when Chandelure broke out of her ball to wail and croon at the sight of him, Ingo's arms raising as an invitation for her to barrel into his chest to cradle her.
That was manageable. At least he remembered his native language too. Emmet had a feeling the rest of the memories would return soon enough if the world was kind.
But the world was not kind and watching as Ingo expressed an avid interest in 'all of the technological advancements' that had been made since his time in Hisui, Emmet felt empty. He recognized them vaguely. Was fascinated mostly. He would talk confidently about something modern, and Emmet would get hopeful, and then he would quickly backtrack. Assuming that he was making things up. That what he was saying didn't exist when it did. HM’s. Even those damned Orb items.
"Surely I am mistaken," he would say. He wasn’t.
But Ingo was so happy to return to the time he belonged. He had wanted to return home, he promised Emmet. He just didn't know where to start. Where to go. He smiled at Emmet, a different smile than the ones he had been used to, but no less true than the original.
Emmet smiled back at him but it was meaningless.
Ingo would not be living on his own for a verry long while yet.
(When they were younger, they had shared a room without a single problem. Twin-sized beds were spaced evenly apart each with an accompanying bed stand to the opposite of the other so that the traversable space in the middle was free for them to both reach the outlet.
Toys were shared, and very rarely fought over. The singular TV in the room was never an issue since Ingo and Emmet both shared a fondness for the same types of programs.
Peace between them only broke when they ended up having to move houses a year before they were to set off on their gym challenge.
Their childhood home had only had a single floor, two bedrooms- one for them and one for their parents- and an open area that connected the den to the kitchen. It was quaint, it was home, but unfortunately, it was small and most certainly started to get outgrown once Ingo and Emmet caught partner Pokémon of their own. So it was that necessity that led to their parents selling their house in favor of a bigger one.
One of the selling points had been that Ingo and Emmet would be able to get their own bedrooms, but unfortunately, for the price that they bought it at, there was a lot of work that needed to be done on one of them.
"You boys can handle sharing a room a little longer, right?" their mother had asked them.
"Yup!" Emmet had nodded his head along with Ingo's exclaimed, "Of course!"
They had never had their own room before, so waiting shouldn't have ever been a problem.
But perhaps just the idea of personal space was an infectious enough idea that very quickly neither of the two enjoyed sleeping in the same room anymore. Emmet would forever claim it was that with puberty Ingo had gotten too stuffy whereas Ingo would fervently complain that Emmet had gotten too messy.
The fact, however, was that while they had occupied the same room they had had separate beds. At the new house, while work was being done in Ingo's room, they were forced into an unfortunate bunk bed situation. Instead of the standard traditional bunk with the beds stacked parallel to the other, one on top and one below, the one they shared was intended more for an occasional guest than long term use.
Given the fact that the second bed was a pull-out.
The twins had looked at each other and known that the bottom bunk was less than ideal. And also the least comfortable one.
"I'll take it," Ingo had said, even though the deepening of his frown showed he wasn't quite fond of the idea. "This is supposed to be your room after all. I'm sure it won't be as horrible as it looks."
"So long as you're sure," Emmet's smile had faltered. It really didn't look... great.
It was exactly as horrible as it looked. Not because the mattress was practically on the ground- honestly, Emmet was sure that his brother could sleep on a rock soundly- but because the twin's space which had been spacious before was now packed tightly together.
They lasted exactly a month before petty squabbles started to pick up.
"Ugh!" Ingo had scrunched his nose and hissed up at Emmet on one such night, "Why did one of your gross socks fall onto my bed?"
"I forgot to take them off before bed. So I slipped them off."
"And threw them down onto me?!"
"No." Emmet peered over the edge of the rail. "They fell."
Ingo, pinching the sock between his thumb and pointer finger, hurled his arm back and threw the offending garment up and over the wooden rails.
"Hey!"
"Not exactly pleasant is it?" Ingo turned his nose up at Emmet. "Why don't you just put them in the hamper?"
Emmet glared down at him. "That would require me to go down the ladder to do so. And I am tired."
"Lazy more like it," his brother had attempted to whisper, which meant for Ingo he said that at a manageable, and hearable volume.
Incensed by his twin's words, Emmet dug his hands under his blanket, patting around the ends of the bed for the sock that hadn't slipped down while he tossed and turned to get comfortable. Finding it, he hurled it down aiming directly for Ingo's face.
As it slapped down, Ingo made a sound that was rather like a drowned Purrloin. Snatching it off of his face, Ingo clenched it tightly between his fist and told Emmet fiercely, "You're the worst!"
It was a ridiculous spat, Emmet knew it then and looking back at the memory knew it now too, but at the moment his heart was wounded and words- which had never been his forte- drug themselves out of his throat to proclaim, "I hope we never have to share a room again!")
Ingo was different. He was different but he was home and Emmet tried to not let it bother him. But it did, it really truly did.
It was not safe for Ingo to return to work. He was meant to stay on bed rest, and he would need to go through his certifications all over again. Ingo needed to get used to the hustle and bustle of Nimbasa City. Ingo needed to get used to the modern world again.
Emmet was trying his hardest not to get impatient and frustrated with the process. It must have been so much worse for Ingo because he was the one actually affected by it all.
But Emmet was only human, and sometimes he came home exhausted from work and all he wanted to do was take a nice hot shower to clean himself from the sweat of staying underground all day. Only to enter the bathroom and see various articles of clothing hanging from any open ledge.
Ingo did not join him at Gear Station that day. Ingo had been busy at home it seemed.
"Ingo?" he called out to his twin, exiting the restroom.
"In your guest room, Emmet," was his answer. Not loud. Ingo was no longer as loud as he used to be. Muted, dimmed. By Ingo standards that was. To anyone else, he would sound 'normal.' Emmet could roll his eyes at that. No. That was most certainly not normal. Not for them.
Emmet dragged himself to Ingo's room. Not guest room. His brother insisted, but Emmet liked to win. Even in verbal battles. If he said it was Ingo's room now then it was. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.
He entered Ingo's room. He was sitting on the ground, a wooden board that Emmet didn't even realize he had laying around the apartment leaning against the wall at a sloped angle. A light pink cloth was stretched across it. Very straight, very neat. Not a single wrinkle or crease.
Ingo was wearing the black bathrobe that Emmet had bought for him recently. Only that.
Chandelure hovered above him, letting out a confused chime. Even she didn't know what to say.
"What are you doing?" Emmet asked in a flat voice. He didn't know why he asked. He knew the answer. Anyone who knew about Ingo's situation would have found it obvious.
But up to that point, Emmet had been the one doing both of their laundries, being proactive to assist his brother in whatever capacity that he could, that it just never occurred to him that he would walk into a sight quite like this.
"The wash," Ingo answered dryly. He did heave himself off the ground, and Emmet had to restrain himself from going over to help him up. Ingo didn't like it when he did that. He was capable, he promised Emmet. He tried not to doubt him. "Actually, I'm glad you're home. I had trouble locating your wash tub, so I hope you don't mind that I used the sink temporarily for that. And after I wasn't sure where you normally hung your clothes to dry- certainly not your balcony, right? There didn't seem much room to do it there... regardless, I figured I could just lay them out in the washroom until you got home. I got lucky finding this board," he gestured toward the wall. "It's just the right size for my clan skirt, but it's inconvenient for much anything else. Your clothes seemed fine if they just hung from the rails, but I can't remember if that's the correct procedure."
Emmet's head was fuzzy. He tried to listen to Ingo's words, long-winded as always, but quiet. So quiet.
"Emmet?"
He had no problem with people who chose to hand wash their clothes. Who cared, not Emmet that's for sure. But why did Ingo not wait for him to get home before doing so. Didn't he get that things didn't have to be like they were in Hisui anymore?
Ingo didn't elaborate further, but he knew that he was silently asking for something.
"What, do you want me to get you a washboard?" Emmet knew he was being mean. He didn't intend to. Ingo's mind was rusted over, and all it needed was a little care to get it going, but that kind of care was difficult and hard and Emmet never thought that he would have to be the one doing it. He was unprepared, and now he was mean as a result.
Ingo was supposed to have come home and then things could go back to relatively normal. Not this new, rapidly changing, and fluctuating normal that had Emmet constantly trying to adapt.
Ingo didn't hear the slightly mocking tone to the question, given the way he tilted his head and answered, "If you have one. I will admit that I am unpracticed with that method of washing clothes, although Professor Laventon- ah, he was the researcher brought over from Galar by the Galaxy Team- had one that he used to wash his personal effects. It didn't take with much anyone else in Hisui but I found it interesting and he showed me how to best use it."
Even when tired and cranky, Emmet couldn't aim his frustrations at his brother for long. Ever so sincere Ingo. He was sure if he went out and bought a washboard his brother would use exactly that to clean their clothes.
It felt like something unplugged his emotions and they drained out of him. Now he could fill his body with something more meaningful.
"No," he shook his head, reaching forward to grab his sibling's hand. He pulled Ingo along to the bifold door in the hallway. "No washboards."
Pulling the door open, and revealing the off-white dryer and washer, both with paint chipped at the bottom and a box of dryer sheets on the top of the former with the detergent on a shelf above, Emmet stepped aside so that Ingo could stand closest to them.
A flare of recognition lit up in his brother's eyes, and Emmet had a glimmer of hope that the memories of how to operate the two had returned to him, but had that quickly dashed when Ingo spoke, "I recognize that device, Miss Akari had one in her home in Jubilife. Is there a Rotom in it?"
His throat was dry, and Emmet remembered that he was tired. "No, not in this one."
"Oh." Ingo glanced at him, eyes searching for something. Emmet wasn't sure what. He wished that Ingo would use his words like he would have in the past.
A lull in their conversation where neither spoke, both waiting for the other to take the initiative.
Sighing, Emmet broke first- he had to- and guided Ingo's hand to the door of the washing machine, "It's easy when you get used to it. I will help you."
(Ingo had always been the louder twin, as he had been born with a rather healthy and powerful set of lungs as their father, Weston, often attested to.
Ingo was louder, but Emmet was the crier. Between the two of them, their parents hardly got any rest.
Where Emmet became less of a crybaby as they got older, Ingo only seemed to get louder.
Neither he nor his parents minded this but...
Ingo raised his hand, straight and stiff, and exclaimed, "I know this one!"
Emmet looked behind him at Ingo- and oh, he had found that so hilarious when the seating charts put Emmet in front despite him being the younger sibling, because his name came before Ingo's on the attendance sheet- whose eyes lit up with excitement.
Their teacher, whose name Emmet could no longer recall from memory, glad to keep her out of his mind, winced at Ingo's volume.
"Ingo, remember what we talked about," she said, with a saccharine smile- and honestly Emmet thought she gave smiling a bad name, with how fake it always was- "Volume."
Then she pinched her fingers, as though holding a knob and turned it to the side. As though she were lowering the volume on her stereo. Lowering Ingo's volume.
Emmet saw Ingo deflate slightly, his dropping enthusiasm reflected in the way that his raised hand curled toward his body. Unsure.
Emmet always resented her for doing that to his twin. Even as an adult, he could only look back on those moments and think- what adult chose to temper a child's enthusiasm?
Because when Ingo was happy, truly happy his voice got loud. Brimming with uncontained passion. Excitement. That's how you figured it out because Ingo's facial expressions were always slow on the uptake.
What better way to know that the person under your care was happy than their thunderous voice stemming with joy?
"Now, you were saying?"
"Um," Ingo paused, face pinched as he strained to reign in his voice. Indoor voices were a sham. Emmet would gladly die on that hill. "Fairy beats Dragon because, uh, in fairytales the knights always defeat the dragon."
"What a delightful anecdote," she said, turning back to her board to note down the type advantages. "Thank you for sharing with the class."
"Of course," Ingo mumbled.
Emmet couldn't help but let out a, "Hmph!" He crossed his arms and turned so that Ingo could see his face fully before he stuck out his tongue and blew a Razz Berry.
He won in his goal to get Ingo to let out a very loud laugh, which did unfortunately get them scolded by the teacher. Emmet didn't mind.
Emmet never minded when it came to Ingo. When classmates would proclaim they could hear Ingo all the way from the third floor, Emmet would respond that he could smell them all the way from the first floor too. It was all said in playful fun, right? That was what he would exclaim when their classmates would get indignant. He thought they were just pointing out the obvious.
That's why Emmet was so bothered with how quiet Ingo was now. Something stomped out Ingo's happiness in Hisui, and it felt like none of his efforts- absolutely nothing he did was bringing that back.)
Not every change was a bad change. That was something that Emmet grew to come to terms with. Even appreciate it.
Such as Ingo's recent hobby of photographing everything.
One of the first things Emmet made sure to do, when he realized that Ingo's only grasp on technology was related to objects that Rotoms could possess was to get him his own Rotom Phone. It was a tremendous aide to Ingo, to have something slightly familiar to him and responsive in a way that his former Xtransceiver couldn't- which was good, considering that his service plan had been long disconnected.
What Emmet didn't expect to happen was the Rotom inhabiting the smartphone to teach Ingo how to take photos and worse, selfies. He was almost as bad as that Galar Gym Leader, the one who did double battles.
"It's phenomenal," Ingo insisted. "Professor Laventon had his own portable camera that he used mostly to document Pokémon for the pokédex. The rest of us had to rely on the photo booth set up in Jubilife Village if we wanted our essences captured physically."
"Oh?" That was interesting and made Emmet wonder if any photos of Ingo had survived since then. Knowing the subtleties of his brother well, he teased, "It sounds as though you took many photos."
"Yes," Ingo smiled down- the new smile, not the old one, the new short and quick, 'blink and you'll miss it' smile- at the photo he had just taken of the two of them in a diner. He had a light breakfast, stomach acclimating to modern foods. Emmet had a simple poached egg on rye. "They were a comfort to me. I felt as those I could trust them more than my own memories, which had proven themselves unreliable. I'm grateful that my companions in Hisui were so indulgent of me."
A few months ago, that would have made Emmet ache for his twin. But now he could see the way that Ingo was remarking upon the memory fondly and not in loneliness.
"If you're interested, I could find mother's photos of us growing up when we get home," he said.
Ingo's eyes shined with undeniable interest, and Emmet politely ignored the wet sheen to them.
"I would like that very much."
Later, when Emmet did find it, and he found a certain photo, he wanted to smack himself aside the head with the book for how verrry silly it all was. To have the answers so readily available, but out of sight and out of mind. Ingo found more humor in it than him.
And since Ingo enjoyed photographs greatly, Emmet took immense delight in introducing 'moving pictures' to him.
Although. He feared that he may have created a monster with the way Ingo insisted on video-taping everything now. He thanked the Dragons every day that the internet still eluded his brother or else he would have to face his brother becoming a vlogger.
That habit was an interesting change, a welcomed change. One he could embrace.
Another was that Ingo had developed certain customs, adopted by him from the people who had cared for him.
Emmet still didn't have the full story of Ingo's time in Hisui. He was letting Ingo tell him at his own pace, not prodding even when he really wanted to. But he knew a little bit about the Pearl Clan and its Wardens.
And of course, he learned about the importance of space for them.
At first, he thought that meant just regular space. As in the planets and stars above. Only for him to get quickly corrected by Ingo that 'space' included the world around them. As well as personal space.
Which, ok. Fair. Emmet understood the need to maintain healthy boundaries like that.
So, he assumed that meant that Ingo would be far less interested in physical affection. And for the most part, that remained true. But, that was also something that had been consistent prior to his amnesia.
Therefore, Emmet couldn't retain fault for not noticing that there had been a change at all on that front.
Because while true that space should be respected, that meant that space when shared was cherished.
Emmet wasn't aware of that until it came knocking on his door.
Because one day, Ingo approached Emmet, and opened his arms.
He was confused at first. Not wanting to commit a faux pas. A misunderstanding between the two. He did jolt forward slightly but caught himself. Emmet held himself back.
Ingo's eyes had narrowed. Then relaxed in understanding.
"May we share spaces, just this once," Ingo asked, in that strange manner of phrasing that he had adopted from Hisui.
Even if the wording was odd, Emmet hadn't misunderstood what his brother was asking for, and he surged forward to wrap his arms around Ingo, caught in a hug as he collapsed against his chest with his full body weight.
"Ingo," he warbled. "You may share your space with me always."
Ingo's arms slightly muscled from all the exercises he was instructed to do- keeping his body shape that he had carved away during his time on Mount Coronet- wrapped around him firmly.
"I'm glad," Ingo sniffed, voice straining. "I love you, Emmet."
That, fittingly of all things, broke Emmet. Sobs that he had held in for so long broke forth like a runaway train, and he clutched on tightly to his brother. To his twin. To the one person who had been with him from the very beginning, always, until the cruelty of the world stole him away.
His brother loved him, still, even when Emmet was a mess and sometimes snippy but trying to make the best of things and he couldn't help but cry.
That was what had hurt the most. When Ingo had first disappeared, all Emmet could think about some days was that he could not remember the last time that he had said that he loved his brother. When last he hugged him was.
He hadn't ended his voicemail to Ingo that day with a casual thrown away, 'love you.' The words couldn't even leave his mouth on that fateful call with Nurse Joy, couldn't ask her to tell his brother that he loved him because he just felt so guilty that he didn't say it before.
Even now they were hard to say, getting stuck in his throat, trapped in a tight ball that threatened to choke him on his sobs.
"I really, really missed you," he wailed, burying his face in Ingo's chest.
Ingo tightened his hold on him. Wet drops plopped down on the crown of Emmet's head, hat had tilted back from the force that he had run and jumped at the chance to connect cars again with Ingo.
"Despite all the missing tracks in my mind, I knew in my heart I missed you too," Ingo whispered- but it was the kind of whisper that was at a moderate volume, and Emmet's heart soared.
Because even when Ingo's words were stained with tears, his voice had grown louder at that moment.
Finally- finally- Emmet whispered into Ingo's chest, "Love you too."
For a moment he worried that his words hadn't carried across to his twin, but then Ingo lifted him up and back- which couldn't be good for his spine surely!- to spin him around in a hug, their spaces not able to get any closer.
Once his feet were back on the ground- and seriously, where did Ingo find the strength to do that? What did they feed him in Hisui?- his tears stopped and thankfully so did Ingo's.
"Ah, I'm sorry, it seems as though I've knocked off your cap," Ingo apologized, looking around for where it was on the ground.
Emmet let out a wet chuckle, and finding humor for the first time in a while, said, "That's ok. Unlike you, I don't need it to hide my hairline."
"Emmet."
"Ingo, Ingo," Emmet shuffled one of his hands between their hug so that he could push back his hair, revealing his- still not as forward as it had once been, but certainly not as bad as Ingo's- hairline. "Do this for me."
"Ugh," Ingo pushed him away- but kept his hands on Emmet's shoulders, continuing to connect their cars, to connect their spaces together- "You're the worst."
"No I'm not," Emmet sniffled as he laughed. "I am Emmet."
"That you are," Ingo said fondly. "And if I have any say about it, I won't forget that ever again."
(It was impossible for Emmet to claim that he knew when he and Ingo first hugged. Their parents would probably say something sappy about them hugging in the womb, or that they would constantly snuggle together as infants. But that was their ideal for their bond and existed only within it. The truth of the matter was, that hugging his brother came as easy as walking to Emmet.
As learning how to write, to ride a bike. Or even greater yet, hugging Ingo came as easy as battling did.
So why did it matter when they did it first when they did it always?
Emmet worried when the last time he had hugged his brother that day when Ingo had taken a step forward in Nimbasa for the next step to land in the frozen tundra of the Alabaster Icelands in Hisui. He had worried when the last time he had told his brother that he had loved him was.
The answer to both was the night before when the two had laughed after an exhilarating day full of battles on the Super Multi Line.
"Did you see that Bisharp that one challenger had?" Ingo exclaimed.
"Yup! Yup! So well cared for!"
"Magnificent! Truly! A well-deserved win on their part!"
"Mm, I don't know about that," Emmet teased. "I like winning more than anything else, so of course I pose that it should have been our win."
Ingo had reached over and given Ingo a firm side hug. "Don't start!"
"But I will!" he laughed. "You were sloppy!"
"Please-"
"The win should have been ours. Because our combination is the best!"
Ingo guffawed, sounding more like a barking Stoutland than anything else.
"It's true!" Emmet insisted, deepening their side hug. They moved forward into the night, in comfortable silence. "You know I love you, right?"
"Of course I do, Emmet. And I you."
What Emmet could not have been aware of was that in the time that Ingo had spent in Hisui, something ate away at his chest. He knew that the man in white was important to him- how? He wasn't sure. But he has often been kept awake thinking; did the man in white know that Ingo missed him dearly? That even with his name scrubbed from Ingo's mind, he still ached to drag the man into a hug and proclaim that he loved him. In his heart of hearts, he knew that man was his beloved family and he wished to cross from this space to his more than anything else.
Ingo would never recover the definitive memory of when he last told his brother that he loved him or that he hugged him. But nonetheless, it had been that very night.
What they worried about, always the same. Even across tracks, far back into the past and the future, their lines would arrive at the same station so that they may find the other in the concourse.
"Fantastic. Yup. Can't wait for the battles that tomorrow will bring."
"I doubt we will have many battles tomorrow," Ingo slowed to a halt, not disconnecting from Emmet and instead lifting his free hand to cup it towards the sky. Snowflakes were already beginning to shuffle down and melted in the heat of his palm. "Don't you remember? It will snow quite heavily tonight."
"So? Come rain or snow, the subway must run!" Emmet insisted.
Ingo dropped his hand, "With reduced service most likely. If not outright delays."
"Then let us just run the Multi Lines only!"
His twin shook his head and started moving forward again, "You're ridiculous."
"I am Emmet, and you love me despite that!"
"That I do.")