#not me violently making volo a spiteful pathetic meow meow

[dracdminus]

TW: Self harm. Suicide

The horror first dawned on him when he took a sharpened rock to his wrists and still woke up when the sun next rose. 

He’d had nothing left to fight for. Arceus had denied him, that child had stolen his chances, everything he’d worked and dreamed for, made a mockery of him under his own nose, and Volo had fallen. 

He couldn’t even drag himself back to Cogita, the one person with the slightest chance to hear him out, couldn’t bring himself to grovel for pity from the neutral party. The idea almost stung more than the scrapes from the battle, so broken from his goals being shattered his pride barely let him think. 

He’d let his pokemon go, folded into a heap in the rain at the base of the mountain, tucked away just enough that no one would see him if they wandered by. 

Togekiss had refused to leave his side, even as he ignored her cries, her feathers dull as she laid beside him. 

He could only spare a flash of guilt for what he was going to do to her, taking his own life. But what else was there for him? Perhaps he’d be granted a small enough mercy to finally meet Arceus in the afterlife. 

The righteous anger he snarled at Arceus’ chosen bleeds from him alongside the rivets of red, the whirlwind of emotions soaking into the muddy ground as calm seeps in to take it’s place. 

His head feels heavy, he tips, shivers, closes his eyes…

And wakes to Togekiss barking at a Psyduck that’s wandered too close for her comfort. 

He spends the next three days in a haze, trying to process what’s going on, and comes to the conclusion this is punishment. 

Three days of cold, empty shock gives way to vicious spite with the realisation. 

So this is the game Arceus wants to play? To mock his failures like this? Then so be it. 

He can make good on his threat. He will search for eternity if he must, but he will find all the secrets Hisui-this world-has to offer on its heartless, pitiful excuse for a god, he will face Arceus one day, and he will finally prove himself. 

So he wanders. Keeps up the pretence of a simple merchant now and then. Finds he can grow hungry, he still needs food, but he can’t starve. After a while he finds he doesn’t age. He outlives Togekiss, and is all alone.

He tries again when she’s gone, at least it’s something less barbaric than a rock. The loneliness is colder than the winter he’d almost frozen to death.

He wakes up the same as last time, gives a poor stranger who’d come across his body a fright. Moves on quickly before questions start being asked. 

He can scar. It’s dangerous to travel without a pokemon, but anything that would injure him badly enough to be a deterrent to anyone else suddenly feels as trivial as a papercut. He’s littered with silvery, puckered patches of skin within a few years. 

He watches. He learns. The world around him grows and advances. He gets to see people and pokemon grow closer than he’d thought he’d get to see, he’s baffled by how fast technology changes, stubbornly tries to stick to tradition as much as he can. 

He avoids making friends. Refuses to take another pokemon. He embraces the loneliness, starts to believe it’s what he deserves, just another part of the curse he’s under. 

He never stops searching, meticulously uncovering every mystery he can. He chases tales and rumours across the world, visits regions he’d never heard of, never once stops, never once slows. 

He doesn’t know what he wants in the end anymore. But he knows he will meet Arceus, even if it takes him eternity.