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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

Note

Reader is pretty bad at crocheting. Despite their lack of skill, they were determined to ALWAYS crochet something for their beloved partner. Making cursed looking plushies. They always thought that their partner would throw them away or pay them no mind.. heck, even laugh at them. But to their shock, their partner keeps all those cursed and bad looking plushies at their favorite place. (Dan heng, Veritas, Kaveh, Sunday, Ruan mei.)

Not Perfect, but Still Yours

Tags: Kaveh x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ruan Mei x Reader, Fluff, Soft moments, Imperfection, Comfort, Emotional Growth, Appreciation, Supportive Relationships, Gift giving.

Warnings: Mild embarrassment, Self-doubt, Lighthearted humor, Emotional vulnerability.

The soft light of the Astral Express flickered through the narrow window of the lounge, casting shadows on the scattered objects around the room. In the corner, a small, misshapen plushie sat, its lopsided eyes staring out toward the horizon. It was one of the countless failed attempts at crocheting you had made for Dan Heng. The yarn was too tight in some places and too loose in others, the colors clashed violently, and the stuffing was lumpy, giving the plushie a truly cursed appearance.

You couldn’t help but chuckle nervously as you held it, eyes scanning the room in search of a place to stash it out of sight. Maybe Dan Heng would never notice, or maybe he would laugh at it. It was far from the perfect gift you had envisioned when you started, but at least you had put your heart into it.

As you turned to place it on the shelf, you froze. There, perched next to the window where Dan Heng often sat, was not just one, but a collection of the most absurdly shaped, lumpy crocheted plushies you’d made. Their mismatched eyes, crooked smiles, and mismatched colors all stood proudly in their place, as though they were some kind of treasured collection.

Dan Heng sat across from them, his usually calm demeanor unchanged. He looked up at you, his deep, reflective eyes meeting yours with something resembling amusement, though his lips remained firmly set.

"You've been crocheting again," he said in his quiet, steady voice.

You stood frozen, your face burning with embarrassment. "I... I didn’t think you'd actually keep them..."

His gaze softened, though he said nothing else. His actions spoke louder than words ever could. He had placed them all so carefully in the space he cherished most—the quiet place where he could reflect on everything. You had expected ridicule, but instead, your clumsy efforts had found a place of honor in his world.

Dan Heng's soft sigh filled the room, but it wasn't one of exasperation. Instead, it felt more like a quiet acknowledgment of something that transcended words—something more meaningful than just a plushie.

Kaveh stared at the plushie you had given him, his sharp eyes wide with surprise. It was... a disaster. A mess of yarn in every possible shade of blue, with ears that were more like floppy lumps than anything remotely animal-like. The eyes were uneven, the stitchwork was clearly off, and the overall shape? Well, it was a stretch to even call it a plushie.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh at it. He had seen you struggle for hours on end, your hands fumbling with the crochet hooks, muttering to yourself in frustration, and it made him smile. Not at the plushie, but at the sheer determination behind it.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, holding the plushie up carefully, examining it as though it were a fine piece of art, despite the chaos it embodied. "It’s... unique."

You looked down, embarrassed. "I know it looks awful, but I just wanted to make you something. I thought you’d throw it away, but... I wanted you to have it, even if it's terrible."

Kaveh chuckled softly, a sound that always made you feel warmer, even when the world seemed so cold. “Terrible?” He paused, looking around the room for a place to set it. “No, I think it’s just... different. And I like different.” He placed the plushie carefully on a shelf next to some of his architectural sketches, where he could see it whenever he needed a break from his work. “It’s special,” he added with a wink, “because it’s from you.”

You blinked in surprise, and before you could say anything, he turned to you with that familiar mischievous smile. "You’re not getting off that easy, though. The next one better have some structure to it!"

Your heart swelled at his words. It wasn’t about the perfection of the plushie, or even the art itself. It was about the thought, the care, and the effort you had put into it. And Kaveh, despite his sometimes chaotic nature, always saw the beauty in that. Even the cursed plushies you thought would be forgotten.

Kaveh placed a hand on your shoulder. “Keep them coming. I’ll cherish each one.”

You sat cross-legged on the floor, yarn tangled in your hands, struggling with your latest attempt at crocheting. It was a mess. The stitches were uneven, and the form barely resembled anything close to what you had intended—a plush owl. It looked more like a lumpy pile of yarn with mismatched eyes. A sigh escaped your lips as you tied off the last stitch, half-expecting Ratio to find it ridiculous.

Ratio was brilliant, confident, and quick to call out ignorance in any form. You had never imagined he would appreciate something as simple and imperfect as your crocheted attempts. Still, you found yourself crafting these weird, lopsided plushies for him. Every time, you feared he might mock you, dismiss the effort, or worse, throw them out. Yet, you persisted, as these small gestures were your way of showing him that you cared.

As you placed the little owl on the shelf, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. Would this be the one that pushed him too far? Would he finally tell you it was enough?

The next day, you walked into the room to find Ratio sitting in his usual chair, reviewing some ancient texts. As always, his gaze seemed focused, detached from everything around him—until his eyes flicked toward the owl. A small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he gently picked it up, inspecting it with curiosity.

"It's... oddly endearing," he remarked, his tone as blunt as ever. "This owl lacks the symmetry I would expect from a creation of logic, but it... has its charm."

You blinked, unsure if he was mocking you or genuinely complimenting it. But then he placed it next to his prized collection of books, right on the edge of the table where he could always see it.

"I'll keep it here," Veritas added, his eyes meeting yours, his expression softening in a rare moment of vulnerability. "You made it for me. It’s a reminder that even imperfection has its place."

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. For someone who valued perfection and knowledge, this was more than just acceptance—it was a sign that, to him, your imperfections meant more than you could have imagined.

You stared down at the tiny, lopsided plush dove, your fingers trembling slightly. The stitching was uneven, and the wings were too big. Still, you had tried—really tried—to make it resemble the symbol of Charmony, something that would show Sunday you cared in the simplest way you could think of.

But doubt clouded your mind as you looked at it. Sunday, with his celestial grace and refined demeanor, surely wouldn’t appreciate such a... well, “cursed” gift. The way he carried himself, so composed, so perfect, made you think he would find your attempt childish, perhaps even laugh at it. He was a being of such beauty and wisdom; what would he want with a lumpy, hastily made toy?

You took a deep breath and placed the plush dove in the corner of the room where he often meditated, hoping it would at least bring a smile, even if it never left that spot.

Days passed before Sunday came by, his eyes scanning the room, and then, to your surprise, he made a soft sound of recognition. He knelt down beside the dove, lifting it up gently, his expression unreadable as he ran his fingers over its wings.

“It reminds me of something,” Sunday said, his voice softer than usual, the hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Of the Charmony dove, yes, but also of simpler things. The kind of things we forget to appreciate sometimes. Thank you.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He was holding the plush with such care, as if it were something sacred, placing it right next to his meditation cushion. Every time you saw it there, you felt a little less doubt in your heart. The dove, imperfect as it was, had a place in his life—just as you did.

The yarn slipped between your fingers, tangled and frayed, as you struggled to crochet another creation for Ruan Mei. You had tried your best, but the result was far from the elegant designs she would create. It wasn’t even close to the delicate perfection that she embodied in her work. Instead, your plush was a strange amalgamation of mismatched colors and poorly sewn stitches. It looked more like a confused blob than a creature.

You sighed and set the plush down, a small knot of worry forming in your stomach. Ruan Mei was brilliant, precise, and focused. She could easily craft life from data or manipulate biology to create perfect forms—what would she think of your chaotic mess of yarn?

Despite your doubts, you carefully placed the plush on her desk, right next to the microscope where she often worked. You felt foolish for thinking she’d notice or appreciate it.

The next time you saw her, she was sitting at the desk, inspecting the intricate DNA strands she had created. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on the plush, you held your breath.

At first, she merely stared at it, her expression unreadable. Then, with an almost imperceptible smile, she reached for it and held it up to her face, examining it carefully. “This is...” she began, and your heart sank. “...unexpected. But I suppose life has its imperfections, doesn’t it?”

You blinked, unsure if you had heard her correctly. She placed the plush next to her notes, her delicate fingers smoothing over the yarn. “It’s... a reminder that even in something this simple, there’s beauty. You made this for me, didn’t you?”

A warm, familiar sensation bloomed in your chest as she looked up from the desk, her eyes softening. “Thank you. I’ll keep it here. It has... its own kind of elegance.”

Her words, though quiet and understated, were everything to you. Even in her scientific, precise world, your imperfect creation had a place—a place she had carved out for it, just as she had carved out a place for you in her life.

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teshadraws · 1 day ago

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 68]

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AO3 Link

Nia reads Tobias' aura, memories are shared, and Giratina brings startling news.

For a long moment, Nia stares at Tobias, trying to convince herself that she heard him correctly.

“Read my aura.”

Nia didn’t think she’d ever hear him say that after he so staunchly rejected the idea in the past. And yet here he is, holding out his hand to her with trembling fingertips.

Nia’s first impulse is to reject his offer since he’s so clearly freaked out by the idea. But he’s holding her gaze despite the tension in his jaw, and Nia can’t imagine turning him down after he worked up the courage to make himself so willingly vulnerable.

So after a moment of hesitation, Nia reaches out too. She takes his hand and sends her own aura to where their palms are pressed together.

Tobias’ aura flares to life behind her eyes, like dawn breaking over the horizon.

His aura is red. Nia already knew that from the glimpse she caught in Fort Asra, in the mines, but she’d been taking the quickest glances possible back then to preserve his privacy. Here and now, she’s being invited to look.

So she does.

Tobias’ soul is red. But it’s not red like Xander’s, not the bright crimson of fresh blood and passion. It’s…deeper. More of a maroon, really. Scarlet. Just a few shades darker than their scarves, or the rug they’re sitting on, or the color of Nia’s eyes.

The red unfurls in her mind’s eye like the petals of a flower, newly bloomed and surrounded by thorns. She doesn’t think the thorns will ever be fully clipped, but she doesn’t think she even wants them to be, if that means destroying some part of this beautiful thing cupped in her hands. No one said that briars couldn’t be held, if held carefully, and there’s something about this balance that feels right. Delicate petals and a prickly shield, soft and sharp all at once.

She gently turns Tobias’ aura over and over, handling it like a precious gemstone and finding something new in every facet of its surface.

He’s the red of…a ripe cherry, or a spoonful of jam. A burst of refreshing flavor that’s as tart as it is sweet. He’s biting humor and small, shy smiles. He’s long summer days spent in idle company, eating syrupy red popsicles and lying starfished on hot concrete.

He’s the red of dried blood. The shade of old wounds only recently washed and tended to. He is more than scraped knees and bloody knuckles, but instead a gash in the chest stitched up and finally on the mend. He’s the muscle of the heart beating just underneath.

And he’s also the deep maroon of a worn winter scarf and gloves, homemade so you can feel the love in every misshapen stitch. Downy soft but protective against the chill of winter. Safety and comfort and warm affection laid over frigid skin. A soothing, gentle touch against Nia’s jaw and wrists.

He feels like home.

Nia feels goosebumps rise on her skin, prickling her fur, as she takes Tobias in over and over again. She doesn’t think she could ever get tired of looking at him.

But then she notices Tobias’ aura shaking, swirling with nervous energy. She immediately moves to soothe it, and his soul doesn’t fight when her own bright blue aura brushes against it. If anything, it seems to lean into her, welcoming the way she smooths and sands its rough edges like a cat grooming down unruly fur.

Distantly, she notes that their auras looks rather pretty together. Like they belong like this, intertwined.

And then, in a concentrated effort that Nia can feel, Tobias unfolds. Thinks and pushes his emotions towards her and—

Nia’s breath catches. Her chest swells with warm, choking affection. With gratitude and fondness and amusement. With trust, and admiration, and pride. It’s so overwhelming that it takes Nia a moment to realize what he’s doing.

“It would show you. That you…inspire me and stuff. Just from being you.”

He’s thinking about…her.

This is what she makes him feel?

Nia is swamped by another wave of emotions—her own this time. Awe and disbelief and even a tingle of fear rush through her. She knew that the two of them were friends. Best friends, even. But knowing that logically, and feeling that love for herself? It’s a completely different story.

Nia makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and hurries to send her own emotions back to Tobias in turn. Tries to show him how moved she is by him doing this, by him offering for her to look into his very soul. Tries to smother him in the affection that is very much so reciprocated. Tries to radiate how happy and grateful she is to have him as a friend and as her partner in this world. Tries to explain how watching him grow over the past half a year has made her just as proud of him as he is of her. Tries to convey how he’s pushed her to be better, too. Stronger.

Nia opens her eyes, and blinks hard against blurry vision. She’s crying.

Tobias is staring back at her, eyes wide and teary too. He looks like he feels just as breathless as she does.

Neither of them speak. Instead, Nia lets her aura twine around his like an affectionate cat, and his aura shyly reaches back. She can see a mirror of that shyness in his expression as it softens, his cheeks darkening in a charming way.

Nia feels so, so warm.

If this is how Tobias feels about her, if he thinks this highly of her, then…she can’t be that bad, right? Even if the thought of living up to his view of her is a bit daunting, it’s…inspiring, too. Knowing that he believes in her so deeply. That he does think she’s good, just for trying. She’ll just have to do her best to live up to his expectations.

For a long moment, the two of them stay locked in their trance, emotions trading back and forth like a ball in a children’s game.

Then Nia hears Junie whisper to Samir, “Uh. Should we leave?”

Tobias jolts and yanks his hand away, red flooding his face. Nia blinks, feeling her own ears and cheeks heat as she looks at Junie, who is still sitting at their side next to Samir.

Junie just looks entertained, but Samir looks mortified to have sat in on such an intimate moment. The skiddo is glaring down at Junie with something like admonishment despite the relief in their posture over the moment being broken.

Nia laughs, high and embarrassed as she wipes at her eyes. “S-Sorry. Sorry. We didn’t mean to make you two uncomfortable.”

“Eh, it was a little weird, but I’ve been through worse,” Junie says. Then her expression curls into something smug. “I’m guessing you liked what you found?”

Weird way to phrase that, but— “Oh! U-Um. Yeah, of course. I mean, it’s Tobias. Of course I like him.”

Tobias makes a strangled sound in his throat, his hands over his face.

Junie looks delighted by this response. “Uh-huh. Good to know.”

Nia tilts her head, giving the little bird a questioning look.

Junie waves her off. “Forget it. More importantly, are you feeling better?”

Oh. Nia sits up, lifting a hand to her chest and gauging her emotions. Yes, she is feeling better. Something about seeing Tobias’ faith in her firsthand, bathing in his presence like that, soothed most of the tension that’s been choking her ever since she woke up today. She doesn’t feel perfect, but definitely leagues better than before.

“I do.” She gives Tobias a smile. “Thank you, Tobias. For doing that, and for…thinking so highly of me.”

Tobias finally peels his hands away from his face. He glares at Junie, cheeks still red. “Don’t mention it. Either of you.”

Nia bites back a laugh for his sake, reaching over to pat his leg instead.

With Nia calmed down, their group awkwardly continues their late berry lunch, although Nia carries the warmth of her moment with Tobias in her chest like a candle. It warms her and chases away the shadows any time Andyn’s biting words come back to haunt her.

Once everyone is full and there are only a few berries left over, they start to discuss what to do with the rest of their day. While it’s much too late to take on a mission—and they likely wouldn’t anyways, after the exhausting night they had—they could go to the training hall still. Or go visit the shinx cubs and Asher down in the nursery.

Their decision is made for them when someone knocks at the door, and a familiar green head pokes into the room.

“Maggie!” Nia says, perking up. “Come in!”

The meganium smiles, ducking to step into the room and casting a quick look over all four of them, as if checking to make sure they’re in one piece. With that done, she joins them on the rug in the middle of the room, loafing between Nia and Tobias. Nia happily leans into Maggie’s flower mane and gives her a hug, taking a deep breath of her fresh floral scent. On the edge of her awareness, Nia senses the grass type’s lavender-colored aura, radiating exhaustion and relief.

Maggie uses a vine to tug Tobias into her other side, and he goes into the hug with a grunt and a meager show of resistance.

Junie chirps and flutters into Nia’s lap, nestling against Maggie’s petals herself. Samir watches the hug pile form with their increasingly familiar brand of awkwardness around such open affection.

“I’m so glad to see you all safe,” Maggie murmurs. “I knew you hadn’t been brought to medical, but an old ‘mon like me is still going to worry.”

“We’re fine,” Tobias says, leaning back to frown up at his mother. “Are you all right? You look like you haven’t slept.”

Maggie huffs a laugh, soft and tired. The bags under her eyes are dark. “It’s been a long day up in medical, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

For a moment, Nia thinks of Ezra again, unconscious and missing an arm. Thinks of Andyn shouting at her. Thinks of all the injured Pokemon they saw. Thinks of the absence of a minun they’d hoped to save.

Nia’s newly risen spirits fall again.

Maggie must see the way the whole group wilts, because her expression melts into something sympathetic. “I’m sure Ezra’s injury wasn't easy on you all. In addition to…everything else.”

Nia swallows and nods.

“Yeah. It hasn’t been…great,” Tobias hedges. He glances at Samir. “We…Nia and I really messed up last night. We’re working through it.”

Maggie hums, eyeing Tobias before apparently deciding that she doesn’t need to push or scold them for their recklessness. “Well…while I wish it hadn’t come at such a steep price, a lesson learned is still a lesson learned. And thankfully, Ezra’s condition is stable.”

Nia looks away, another pang of guilt striking her in the chest. Ezra’s stable, yes, but he may never be a Seeker again.

A stifling quiet falls over the room.

Maggie sighs. “Now, don’t look so glum. ‘Mon can do just fine with a missing limb.”

“Even a sneasel?” Tobias grumbles.

Maggie gently bops Tobias on the head with a vine. “Yes, even a sneasel. Why, Fane would’ve—”

Maggie’s voice cuts off abruptly. The meganium blinks, looking more surprised than anyone, as if she hadn’t meant to say that.

Nia lifts her head. She looks at Tobias, only to see him looking just as confused as she feels.

“Fane..?” Tobias asks.

For a long moment, Maggie is quiet. Pensive. Then, she says, “I…suppose now feels like the right time to tell you about him. I’ve mentioned him before, but Fane was our...was my human friend, decades ago. When I was just a bayleef.”

Nia straightens up, ears pricked. She does vaguely remember Maggie mentioning something about knowing a former human, long ago. But from Tobias’ reaction, even he hasn’t heard the full story.

Although, the way she’s talking about him—

“He was your friend?” Junie says, frowning.

Maggie gives her a wistful smile. “Yes. Unfortunately, Fane passed away many years ago.”

Oh.

“It was an accident,” a new voice says from the doorway of their room, deep and familiar. Nia jumps, looking over her shoulder.

August. The rillaboom is standing in the threshold to the hall, a soft sort of sadness on his face. “Telling the story without me, Mags?”

Maggie rolls her eyes, looking remarkably like Tobias for a moment. “If you would’ve announced yourself, I would’ve invited you to help me tell it.”

August chuckles, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “Apologies, Team Scarlet. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard Maggie mention Fane and couldn’t help myself.”

A dot connects in Nia’s head. She remembers August’s words, too, mentioned just as long ago as Maggie’s. During Nia’s very first day at the guild.

“Maggie isn’t the only one with fond memories of a plucky little human once dropped into our world.”

“You knew Fane?” Tobias asks.

August rumbles an affirmative, moving closer to sit on the rug next to Samir, his legs criss-crossed. “I did. The three of us were as close as could be.”

“When you and I weren’t squabbling, that is,” Maggie teases.

August snorts. “Right. We were as close as can be when we weren’t competing for Fane’s silly little heart.”

Nia blinks, surprised, looking between August and Maggie. “You both…liked him? Romantically?”

Junie cackles. “Oh, the drama!”

Maggie’s face flushes—a new, endearing look for her—but she scoffs as she bats at August with a vine. “We were young. It was more a…friendly rivalry, than anything serious.”

August laughs. “You only say that because I was winning.”

Maggie’s mouth drops open, affronted. “You were not! Fane was oblivious to us both.”

Nia looks back and forth as the two older ‘mon banter, a smile playing at her lips. For a moment, the two wise grass types feel like nothing more than children, laughing and playing with an ease and familiarity that Nia has glimpsed but never seen outright.

Tobias looks more exasperated by the two than anything, clearly used to their more casual relationship. He shrugs with a smile when Nia looks at him, as if to say, What’re you gonna do?

“Wait. Neither of you ever confessed?” Junie asks.

Maggie and August’s lighthearted bickering peters out, something sad entering their expressions.

“I’m afraid neither of us got the chance to,” August says.

Maggie sighs. “Before Fane stumbled into us at the guild, I traveled for my research as an herbalist and August acted as my guard. When he met us, Fane quickly decided that he wanted to come along, too. See the world and all that.”

August snorts. “He was a blitzle. An electric type. And he made a surprisingly good case to our guildmaster that he’d be helpful against any flying types, since Maggie and I were both weak to them. The guildmaster agreed, despite his misgivings about Fane’s leg.”

Nia tilts her head. Fane’s…leg?

“That’s why I was thinking of Fane in the first place,” Maggie explains. “He came to this world missing the lower half of one of his legs. Not a debilitating thing to deal with, but certainly not easy, either.”

“Fane hated anyone pitying him for his leg, but he definitely complained his fair share about it, too,” August laughs. The rillaboom drops his chin into his palm, his face still warm with love even decades later. “One day Fane was chattering on about something or another and he mentioned how he was born missing a leg in the human world, too. He joked that he was already used to being off-balance anyways, since ‘God knew he would be too powerful with all his limbs.’”

Junie snorts.

“And he was so surprised after saying it, too!” Maggie laughs. “Much like you, Nia, Fane didn’t remember much about his human life. That little tidbit seemed to just sort of…come out. However, considering he hadn’t mentioned the whole being human part before, we were much more shocked about that. What a sight the three of us must’ve made, gaping at each other like fools.”

Both Maggie and August pause for a moment, clearly lost in memories. Nia doesn’t dare speak, or even breathe too loud, for fear of breaking the fragile atmosphere.

Then, Maggie sighs. “We had so much fun together, travelling the world. But Fane fell ill, roughly half a year after we met. It was…serious. Just like your sickness, Nia.”

“I was convinced he was going to die,” August adds, almost too low to hear. To Nia’s surprise, he looks at her with a small, guilty smile. “I confess that I thought much the same when you fell ill, Nia. I apologize. I really must think better of you humans and your perseverance.”

Both Maggie and Tobias seem unnaturally stiff out of the corner of Nia’s eye, but Nia just holds up her hands. “Oh! U-Um. That’s okay! I’m sure you weren’t the only one who thought that.”

August shakes his head. “Regardless, Fane did recover, although he was…concerningly quiet, after that. For nearly a month.”

Maggie nods. “We never could get it out of him, what made him so…despondent, after recovering. It was something to do with his memories, but he was strangely tight-lipped about it. Too personal to share with even us, I suppose.”

“And then, just a few short weeks after his good spirits returned, Fane died in an accident on the road,” August says. “Nobody’s fault. Just a mudslide that we weren’t experienced enough to predict ahead of time. Unfortunately, an electric type like him didn’t stand a chance.”

Nia’s eyes widen as her heart skips a beat. She thinks about digging Tobias out from under that rockslide. Or dragging Ezra out from beneath that pillar. How easily either of them could’ve died.

“I’m so sorry,” Nia murmurs.

The meganium strokes a vine down Nia’s back. “Thank you, dear. It was a long time ago. We’re mostly past it now, but…”

“You never stop missing him,” August finishes, making eye contact with Maggie.

“No,” Maggie agrees, quiet. “You don’t. You just learn to focus on the joy he brought while he was here, rather than the grief he left in his wake.”

Nia swallows and closes her eyes, leaning into Maggie’s soft petals. She thinks she understands their grief a bit better now, with such a fresh reminder from last night’s disaster.

They really do need to be more careful. Not just for themselves, but for those they would leave behind if the worst were to happen.

After a long moment, Maggie takes a bracing breath and shakes her head. “I only brought up Fane because he got along just fine without his leg. Don’t get me wrong—it was a challenge for him at times. The world was simply not made to accommodate him, and he did need our help every now and then, when his stubborn self would allow it.”

Maggie pauses. “But while Ezra’s situation is very different since he wasn’t born without his arm, I don’t want you to face Ezra with pity in your eyes. If I know that sneasel at all, he has a better chance of bouncing back than any of you expect. Maybe as a Seeker, and maybe not. But as long as he survives, you have to at least give him the chance to flourish. Recovery won’t be easy on him, but it’ll be even harder if you write him off as a lost cause, no matter how well-intentioned.”

Nia mulls over her words, letting them sink into her mind. And for the first time, she feels something other than guilt and grief weighing on her shoulders at the thought of Ezra waking up. She feels…hope. Determination.

Maggie’s right. Ezra doesn’t need their pity. He needs their support. And by the time they come back from the mountains, Nia will be ready to give it.

A glance at Tobias and Samir reveals a similar fire in their eyes. Samir in particular looks invigorated by Maggie’s words, which Nia supposes makes sense after their own injury.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Nia says. “Thanks, Maggie.”

Maggie smiles. “You’re very welcome, dear.”

Silence falls over the room again, though more peaceful this time.

At least until August clears his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m afraid that I did come to visit Team Scarlet with a specific goal in mind.”

The guildmaster’s serious tone makes Nia’s gut bubble with fresh nerves.

“While I came here with the intention to do so, I don’t believe I need to tell you off for being reckless last night, do I?” August starts, levelling each of them one-by-one with a stern look.

Nia winces, knowing that the remnants of her earlier breakdown are probably still very visible on her face. “N-No, sir.”

“Samir chewed us out already,” Tobias sighs. “And rightfully so.”

August nods. “Good. Even if you technically didn’t disobey direct orders, going into that dungeon was a stupid and reckless decision. Don’t make the same mistake in the future, or I will be forced to give your team its second strike for your own safety.”

Nia flinches. “Yes, sir.”

Tobias mumbles an affirmative as well, his gaze locked onto the ground.

“Good. With that done, I have news regarding your mission to Silenfroar.”

Nia blinks, looking up.

“Much as you likely should be kept here until you prove you can listen to orders,” August says, voice hard. Nia barely holds back another flinch. “And as much as Verene agrees, I still believe it’s more important that your team makes this journey to the mountains. For better or for worse, it appears you’re at the heart of the dimensional border issue, and I’m not willing to risk the fate of the world just to follow proper protocol.”

No one dares to respond to that.

“As such, I’m officially approving your travel order to the mountains. If your team is rested and ready after tonight, you can leave at dawn.”

Tobias looks as surprised as Nia feels. “That soon?”

August’s expression darkens. “Last night, we saw firsthand how much damage the degradation of the world is causing. And from what I understand, it’s only going to get worse from here. I can’t justify spending any more time on caution when even a single hour could make a difference on a monumental scale.”

Nia exchanges a loaded look with her friends, one by one. While she certainly doesn’t disagree, it’s nerve-wracking hearing the words from August himself. It makes everything feel even more serious. More real. Urgent.

“Will you four be ready to travel by tomorrow?” August asks.

Samir and Tobias nod immediately. After a moment of hesitation, Nia follows. August is right. They can’t postpone this any longer.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Junie says, her tense voice aiming for lighthearted but missing by a mile.

August nods, shoulders dropping. “Good. In that case, you’ll set out at dawn tomorrow by flight ‘mon along with Fidel. He’s already confirmed he’s ready to travel.”

Oh, right. The zoroark will be joining them on this mission. Something about that—about having an actual adult on their side—eases Nia’s mind a bit. She nods along with the others.

“Good,” August says, slapping a hand on his knee as he rises to his feet. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it. Rest up, and don’t forget to bring proper snow gear.”

“Done and done!” Junie chirps with a salute of her wing.

August smiles, then reaches into his leafy mane and pulls out an envelope. He hands it to Nia. “Here’s the letter I promised, vouching for your team. Give it to the matriarch of Silen, the village atop the mountains. Don’t lose it.”

Nia nods, taking the letter and holding it close to her chest.

For a moment, August sweeps his gaze over each of them, one by one. Nia wonders what he sees, looking down at a bunch of kids a fraction of his size. She wonders if he regrets sending them into a dangerous environment to look for signs of dormant legends. Wonders if he doubts them, and their chances of saving the world.

August doesn’t say. He simply smiles once more and says, “Good luck, Team Scarlet. Be safe.”

And then he’s gone, ducking through the doorway and back into the hall.

Nia swallows, staring after him. “It…suddenly feels a lot more real, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Tobias whispers.

Nia gets up, gently nudging Junie off her lap, to tuck August’s letter safely into an inner pocket of their satchel. After a moment, Tobias joins her, double-checking that they have all of their snow gear for the trip.

Maggie sighs and stands, too. “I suppose I should be getting back up to medical as well, before Sage gets too overwhelmed.”

“Thanks for checking on us,” Nia says, abandoning the satchel to hug Maggie’s leg goodbye.

The meganium bends her neck to hug Nia back. Her voice trembles as she says, “Of course, dear. You all be careful and come back to us safe and sound, all right?”

Tobias, who just “happened” to wander into hugging range, is yanked into a tight embrace as well.

“We’ll be careful,” Tobias mutters.

“Good. Samir? Junie?” Maggie says, lifting her head. The skiddo and rookidee straighten up. “Make sure they don’t get into too much trouble, all right?”

Junie salutes again. “Yes, ma’am!”

Samir nods seriously as well, legs snapping together like a soldier at attention.

Maggie smiles, her eyes misty. Then she releases Nia and Tobias and steps back, giving them one last look and a quiet bid to be careful before she goes to leave as well.

Nia suddenly remembers something she thought of earlier.

“O-Oh! Maggie?”

“Yes?”

Nia swallows hard. “Do you…have you seen a plusle in the medical wing?”

Maggie makes a thoughtful sound in her throat. “I haven’t, but if they weren’t seriously injured, they’re likely being housed somewhere else for the moment.”

Nia takes a shaky breath. “The reason we went into the dungeon in the first place was to try and save a plusle’s sister. A minun. They got separated. If you do see the plusle, can…can you let her know that we did find her sister, but she was already—”

A lump clogs Nia’s throat and tears sting her eyes. She blinks furiously, trying to regain her grasp on speech.

But Maggie clearly gets the message, her face falling with sympathy. For a moment, she looks like she’s going to turn around and envelop Nia in another hug.

Tobias and Samir step up on either side of Nia instead, and she gains strength from their steady presence.

Maggie nods, voice soft. “Of course, dear. I’ll find her and break the news. I’m sure on some level, she’ll be relieved to know.”

Nia is definitely fighting off tears now, so she just nods. Tobias takes her hand and gives it a squeeze.

Maggie, clearly reluctant to leave, finally turns away with another murmur of goodbye and a bid for them to be safe.

And then they’re left alone again, the room feeling oddly empty without Maggie and August. Late afternoon light shines through their window’s leaf blind, just on the edge of sunset. Soon enough they’ll be heading off to bed, then waking up again to head to the mountains.

Nia takes a few breaths to reign in her emotions, then nods to Tobias and Samir. As one, their group gathers around their supplies to prepare.

It’s dusk by time they’re finally finished, after checking and re-checking that they have everything. They’ve got their snow cloaks and scarves and snowshoes. They’ve got their satchel, their badges, and August’s letter. They’ve got apples, travel snacks from the cafeteria, hydration berries and water, and aspear and yache berries to help fight off the cold. They’ve also packed up a bit of their money, in case they need cash for the village on the mountaintop. They even have a few herbs wrapped up and ready to go for tomorrow morning, courtesy of a quick visit to Maggie and Sage. They’re apparently supposed to help boost everyone’s immune systems in the frigid weather.

Once they’re all packed up, Nia feels…restless, without anything to do. She supposes they could go see Fidel and make sure he’s ready, but August already assured them of that.

Tobias keeps fidgeting too, and Nia assumes he feels the same restlessness under his skin. That is, until he turns to her and says, “Hey, I’ve been thinking about something.”

Nia exchanges a confused look with Junie, then gives Tobias her full attention. He doesn’t sound angry or anything, but he does sound…tense. “Yeah? What’s up?”

“It’s about Giratina.”

Nia’s stomach turns. So much has been happening today that she’s hardly even thought about that. About how Giratina’s reflection and its portal properties didn’t work last night, when Ezra was injured. Giratina couldn’t pull the sneasel—couldn’t pull any of them—through to the Distortion World like she’d been expecting.

Tobias mouth flattens into a worried line. “I’ve been wondering why the portal didn’t work last night. It was clear he was trying to pull us through, but he just…couldn’t. Do you think it was because we were in a dungeon?”

“What, like it was too unstable in there or something?” Junie asks.

“Yeah.”

Nia frowns as she thinks. She wishes she could agree, but something about the way Giratina had looked at her in that moment, something in his face and posture, made her fear otherwise. He’d looked…utterly exhausted. Ashamed, almost.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Nia says. “I mean, the dungeons are definitely unstable—”

Nia thinks about how she’d tried to follow the threads of life energy in the dungeon to find the minun. Thinks about how the typically organized pathways of aura were instead split and frayed like loose stitching. The memory makes her feel sick with wrongness.

“—but I don’t think that’s quite it.”

A quiet tap tap of Samir’s hoof catches everyone’s attention. Samir is frowning, and they tilt their head in question.

Oh, right! Samir wasn’t there last night, and they don’t have as much knowledge of Giratina’s portals as Junie does.

“Whoops. Sorry, Samir,” Nia says. “When we were in the dungeon last night and Ezra got hurt, I tried to call Giratina so we could use his reflection as a portal out.”

Samir leans back, looking stunned, as if to ask, You can do that?

Nia cringes. “We could do that in Kaleido Bay just a week ago, but…”

“But Giratina couldn’t seem to do it last night,” Tobias finishes, looking troubled. “He clearly tried, but it was like he couldn’t reach through to our world anymore. I thought maybe it was just that the dungeon was too unstable, but…”

He looks at Nia.

Nia shifts on her feet. “I mean, I don’t have any proof that that isn’t what happened. But something about how Giratina looked and reacted made it feel like…something else was the problem.”

Like something had changed since Kaleido.

Junie frowns. “Well, why don’t you just ask him?”

Nia looks down at the little bird. “What?”

“Call him up like we did at me and Bo’s place!”

…Huh. She has a point. Giratina can’t seem to audibly talk to them when they’re just communicating through reflections, but he could at least give them yes or no answers.

“Okay. Let’s try it,” Nia says, looking at Tobias. “You’re right. We need to know what’s going on, and find out if Giratina is even a viable escape route anymore.”

It doesn’t take long for Nia to retrieve a bowl of water and bring it back to their room. She places it carefully on the floor, and all of them gather around it.

Nia releases a long breath, and then says, “Hey, Giratina? Are you there?”

For a moment, there’s no response. Then, there’s the familiar faint flicker of gold and gray and black. Giratina’s eyes swirl into view and glow up at them like tiny red fireflies.

Samir shifts in place, readjusting the legs folded under their body. They seem understandably unsettled by the god’s appearance. Nia supposes that it was too much to hope for a repeat of Junie’s easy, enthusiastic acceptance from the last time they did this.

“Hi,” Nia starts, lamely. “Um. We made it out of the dungeon, in case you were wondering.”

Giratina doesn’t answer, but he does look away slightly, as if he feels…guilty.

Nia holds up her hands. “We’re not upset with you or anything! But we are, uh…a little worried. About why that didn’t work this time. Was it because we were in a dungeon?”

Giratina hesitates, then shakes his head.

Nia exchanges a worried look with the others. “Then…is this a new development? You can’t pull Pokemon into the Distortion World anymore?”

Nia remembers trying to touch Giratina through the reflection in the dungeon. Remembers the fear when she felt only cold water against her palm.

Giratina heaves a silent, but visible sigh. He nods.

Nia’s heart sinks. It had been such a comforting thought, having Giratina’s reflections as an escape route, only for them to lose it just as quickly as it appeared.

“But why?” Tobias asks, leaning over the cup of water. “You had no problem breaching the barrier in Kaleido Bay, just a few days ago.” Tobias’ breath catches at his own words, his face paling. “That…that didn’t deplete your energy or something, did it?”

For the first time today, Nia sees a spark of Giratina’s old grumpiness as he glares at Tobias. As if offended by the thought that such a trivial action could drain him.

“I was just checking,” Tobias mutteres, sitting back.

“So if that isn’t the problem,” Nia says, slowly. “Then has something else changed in the last few days? Relating to the border.”

Giratina meets her eyes, looking more exhausted than ever. He nods.

Nia’s heart skips a beat. “Okay. Okay, that…doesn’t sound good. What does that mean?”

Giratina obviously can’t say anything, but the way he looks at Nia, all heavy eyes and grave stillness, speaks volumes.

Nia exchanges a nervous look with Tobias. “We…still have a year before the barrier is supposed to break, right?”

Her worst fears come true when Giratina closes his eyes and shakes his head. Stricken, Nia watches as Giratina lifts two of his tendrils and holds them apart from each other, as if indicating the size of something. Then, abruptly, they’re shoved much closer together.

“The timeline,” Tobias breathes. “It…shortened?”

Nia feels horror crawl up her throat. “W-What?! You mean we have less time before it happens?”

Junie had been listening silently, squinting into the reflection, but now she speaks up. “If the time before the big bad shortened all of a sudden, does that mean this is like…some science-fiction time travel stuff? Like the butterfly effect or something?”

Nia stares at her. “What, like someone did something in the last few days that changed the course of the future? Something that made the barrier-breaking event…accelerate?”

“Yeah!”

Giratina’s head lowers in a single, defeated nod. Nia feels like throwing up.

Whatever is destined to break the barrier of this world is no longer granting them a generous year to head it off. But then…how long do they have?

“How long until it happens?” Tobias croaks, voicing Nia’s thoughts.

“Half a year?” Nia asks.

Giratina shakes his head. Nia’s fear grows.

“Three months?” Junie suggests.

No.

“Two months?”

Another shake of the head.

Nia feels a terrified sort of numbness washing over her. “…One month?”

Giratina hesitates. Then, he gives an uncertain nod.

A heavy, dread-filled silence falls over the room like a physical weight. Nia’s heart roars in her ears.

A month. They have a month before the dimensional border cracks and the Pokemon world is no more. A month to find Xerneas and stop it from happening.

Nia can’t bring herself to look at the others. Instead, she stares down at the shaking fingers folded in her lap. She feels like she should be crying, but instead she’s frozen in place.

This doesn’t feel real. It feels like a bad dream.

…What do they do now?

For a long, horrible moment, none of them move. None of them speak. Then—

“All right,” Junie breathes, catching their attention. The rookidee is clearly just as perturbed as the rest of them, but she shakes herself out, fluffing up her feathers. “A month. That’s, uh. Not great. But we’re leaving tomorrow, right? Maybe we’ll have this all figured out by the end of the week!”

For a moment, Nia stares at Junie, uncomprehending. The little bird is clearly forcing her optimism. She clearly doesn’t believe it herself.

But…she’s trying. And she’s right to, isn’t she? They can’t give up before the disaster even happens. Before they’ve even tried.

Nia takes a sharp breath. Then another. Slowly eases her heartrate back to something manageable. She feels the others’ eyes on her.

“She’s right,” Nia says, weaker than she’d like. “We can’t just…not try, no matter how much the odds are stacked against us.”

Nia summons her courage, and lifts her eyes to make eye contact with each of her friends, one by one. Junie’s eyes shine with relief and terror in equal measure. Samir looks doubtful. Tobias’ expression is desperate and pale.

“Either we lie down and die here,” Nia says. “Or we try to find an answer, even if it feels like a losing battle.”

“Woo,” Junie cheers, warbly and weak, with a light pump of her wing.

Nia snorts a hysterical laugh.

At her side, Tobias huffs a laugh too. He scrubs a hand over his face, rubbing hard at the skin. “You’re both crazy. But I guess you’re right, too. Even if it’s a lost cause, there’s no point in giving up now. Either we don’t try and we’re guaranteed to fail, or we do try and have at least a chance at figuring this out in time.”

As one, everyone looks at Samir. The skiddo frowns and leans away from all the attention.

“Whatcha say, Samir?” Junie asks, her voice a strange balance of earnest and teasing. “Willing to give the impossible a shot?”

The skiddo looks at Junie for a long moment. Then at Nia and Tobias. Finally, they sigh, and push one of their front hooves close to the cup of water, as if to say that they’re in.

Nia smiles, something desperate and hopeful rising in her chest despite the terror lingering in her very bones. She looks down at Giratina, who is watching them with an unreadable expression.

“The mission’s still on, Giratina. Don’t count us out yet, okay?”

Giratina rolls his eyes, and Nia huffs another laugh.

They can do this. They have to. It doesn’t matter if their odds are suddenly even lower than before. They don’t have the option of giving up. And tomorrow morning, they’ll start their journey to find the answers they need.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #riolu #charmander #pmd seekers of soul #pokemon #tesha writes #tesha draws

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