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“Look! There he is!”
The sound only vaguely reached Emmet’s ears over the thunder of the train leaving the station and the pounding of his own heart that hadn't left him for the past few days. With every beat sending a slight tremor through him, he found it extremely hard to concentrate.
Luckily, he could simply work on autopilot today, since it was a day to go over paperwork and generally oversee things. The battle subway was operating at half capacity, for the last four days, ever since…. then.
If Emmet was needed to battle someone, they'd come get him.
He was just coming back from his lunch break, though he’d eaten nothing, and was heading to his office for an afternoon of mindlessly reading documents pertaining to the upkeep and funds and safety regulations of the subway. Things that paled in comparison to the fact that his brother was missing.
However, he could not ignore the small family that came right up to him, a father and two younger children. One was slightly older, about six or seven, and was leading a slightly younger boy by the hand. The older sibling, because they must be siblings, they have the same eyes and looks of wonder in them, was wearing a black conductor’s hat upon her head. An obviously homemade mimic of Emmet’s own badge was pinned to it, ever so slightly off center. The little boy was wearing a shirt with a train on it and another badge.
“Subway Master Emmet!” the girl shouted, hopping up and down a little, a huge smile on her face. “I'm so excited to finally meet you!”
Emmet looked down at her, relaxing a fraction, smile becoming a touch more genuine.
(Not that strangers would notice.)
“I am Emmet. Welcome to the Battle Subway. Make sure to follow all safety protocols and stay behind the yellow line until the train has come to a complete stop.” Once he stopped the words that were so familiar to him, he paused for a moment. “What is your name?”
“Lyra! I've aaaalways wanted to meet you, because I love trains and wanna become a real good Pokémon battler! Just like you!” All of these words tumbled out of her mouth one after the other, but Emmet had no trouble following them.
“So you are a fan? Have you already learned how to battle?” Emmet’s eyes glittered, and his words became more intense as something inside him flickered at the chance to do the one thing that made him feel tethered to reality. He forgot in the moment that his more intense manner tended to frighten children, but this particular one didn't seem phased at all.
“I'm seven,” she declared proudly, then sighed. “So I haven't been training yet. I'm too little. But I have a partner! He's a deino, I've had him since I was little! Once I turn ten we're gonna learn how to battle. But,” she tacked on at the end. “I have been teaching my little brother aaaaall about trains.”
“Verrrry good,” Emmet said with a laugh. “Perhaps one day I will beat you in a Pokémon battle here on the subway.” And there he was, forceful tone slipping out again.
“Probably! But one day I bet I'll win!”
“Statistically unlikely.”
She seemed to find that hilarious, even if Emmet wasn't so sure a seven year old knew what statistics were. It still made him feel a little ray of something good shine into his person, though.
“Oh oh yeah, can you sign my poster? And can I take a picture with you?”
She held out a small picture, the size of a typical piece of printer paper, with the likenesses of Emmet and Ingo printed on it. The text identified them as the Subway Masters, encouraging the strongest trainers to visit Nimbasa and fight on the Battle Subway.
“I can,” Emmet declared simply, taking the pen she offered and the poster. The pen was purple sparkly, and had a purrloin pattern on it. “Your pen is verrry nice.”
“Thanks! I wanna get a purrloin for my future team…”
“I can tell dark types are your favorite.” Emmet signed the poster with his typical ‘I AM EMMET’ signature that almost always got his fans to smile.
“They are! I think they’re misunderstood. Like zorua!”
“I think you will make a fearsome trainer,” Emmet said, nodding. “Not fearsome enough to scare me, though.”
She puffed out her chest, a proud look on her face. “One day I’ll work here on the Battle Subway and you can teach me all you know!” Emmet then allowed her to stand next to him as her father snapped a photo. The man looked happy that his daughter was so ecstatic.
Once the picture was taken, she peered around Emmet, back down the way he’d come. Instinctively, he felt his heart begin to pound in his ears as he followed her line of sight.
There was nothing there.
“Where’s Subway Master Ingo?” Ah. The dreaded question. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Emmet thought that the movies got it right. When something was said that broke you again, the sound of glass shattering would be heard and spiderweb cracks would shoot across the background. When your heart felt like dying, there was a flatline.
Those reactions weren’t real, but it certainly felt like they were. The only thing he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears.
“Mr. Subway Master Emmet?” Lyra looked up at him, concern etched onto her young face.
“I am Emmet,” he said reflexively, taking comfort in the familiar phrase. “Yes. Ingo is not here.” Not gone. Not missing. Not dead . Just….
Not here. Where Emmet needed him to be.
Lyra may have been an exception to the rule that children were scared of him, but she was still seven. Even though she was trying to keep herself calm, an admirable effort in one so young, her eyes were beginning to water.
Perhaps she was picking up on some of Emmet’s own terrible sadness.
“O-okay. Maybe n-next time we come from G-Galar he’ll be here?” She rubbed her nose with the base of a hand, obviously doing her best to keep it together.
Something in Emmet’s mind felt like it zoomed out, seeing the scene from some viewpoint that wasn’t his own. A flare of emotion sparked inside him, some bit of anger almost, of grief so terrible it threatened to drown him. Of… Finality, or something close to it.
No one else is going to cry over Ingo today.
“... Perhaps I’ll go and see if I can find him.”
Those words, dragged out of somewhere deep in his gut by a roiling, exhausted emotion he could not name, hung in the air for only a moment. Then–
“Oh thank you!” Lyra’s face was alight once more, beaming up at him. “You’re the best, Mr. Subway Master Emmet sir.”
“I work verrry hard to be,” he responded, injecting some of his usual flair into his words. “Now, I will send my brother over if I find him. Have a safe trip on the subway, and it was good to meet a future battle master. Now.” He pointed dramatically down the currently empty tracks. “Follow the rules! Aim for victory! All aboard!”
Lyra said the last two words along with him, shouting happily. She waved as he strode off down the station, heart falling into his stomach with every long step he took. Was he really about to do this?
They had not noticed his discomfort, because he hadn’t allowed his smile to falter and his voice didn’t give anything away, as per usual. He could name several people who would’ve been able to tell the difference, but he supposed it was a good thing when working with the public.
A blessing and a curse.
Somehow, his whole life felt like that right about now.
He’d reached their office. While the central control hub was fairly high tech, the Subway Master offices were more simple. Ingo and Emmet had liked them that way, even if Emmet always did enjoy having the latest computer gadgets to fiddle with.
Off the side of the spacious room there was a small changing room and locker area. There was a shelving unit that contained several slightly rumpled white shirts (who even knew whose they were originally), three pairs of gloves, a set of pants and a hat each, and two meticulously folded extra coats. One was Emmet’s trademark white, and the other…
Emmet hadn’t changed a thing about any inch of the office aside from working at his own desk. He was at a loss for what to do regarding it all, especially because his brain was convinced at every moment that Ingo could be coming back the very next second. He had to leave everything waiting for him.
There was a tremor to his movements as he reached up, and with a delicate sort of reverence, took Ingo’s coat from its shelf. There was a small puff of dust that kicked up and settled again; this coat hadn't been used in a little while.
And then all at once Emmet moved swiftly, kicking off his white slacks and trading them for a pair of black ones, doing the same with his hat, and finally shrugging on the big black coat.
It carried an intense weight that his own did not.
When he entered back out into the station, he did not swing his arms when he walked. He did not take exaggerated steps. He avoided statements and words that would be a dead giveaway. He briefly greeted the passengers he walked by.
And he did not smile.
But the lack of smile didn't matter to Lyra, who hopped up and down when she saw him. That lifted some of the weight of the coat off his shoulders. He was not being terrible, he was not coping poorly, he was not trying to be something he wasn't.
He was just trying to cheer up a kid. That was it.
“Mr. Subway Master Ingo!” she shouted. “You're here! Mr. Subway Master Emmet said he'd try to find you for me!”
‘Ingo' had to resist smiling, instead making his eyes squinted like something a cat would do to show happiness. He knew his twin’s mannerisms. Even if he could never hope to pull off that ridiculous smile Ingo sometimes managed to show.
“He said someone wanted to see me; I'm guessing he meant you!” Emmet had to focus to make his voice boom like his brother’s, adjusting his tone and inflections ever so slightly, but he managed it. They'd had practice, messing with coworkers and Elesa and their uncle and–
“Yes!” she cheered. “That’s me! I’m Lyra!”
And she began to introduce herself again, just as Emmet had heard her do before. She said that she was seven, that her partner was a deino, and that she loved trains more than anything. “I can’t wait to learn to battle and come challenge you! Mr. Subway Master Emmet said he’d beat me, but I’m not so sure!”
“I am sure if you work hard enough you’ll get strong enough to beat us! Even if Emmet is an extremely talented trainer.” Pride bled into his voice as Emmet repeated one of the things Ingo had said about him on multiple occasions. He held the phrase close in that moment, like a talisman protecting him against the hell he was going through. “But as we both say: the most fun battles are the ones you almost lose. We’ll be waiting for you here to challenge us one day!” Emmet had to resist smiling, reaching out to pat the top of her hat.
Lyra giggled, then nodded so hard said hat fell off. “I will! I’m going to practice very hard! I’ll be the most fun battler out there, you’ll see.”
“I don’t doubt it! Now, Emmet said something about a poster and a photograph…” He repeated the procedure that he’d done earlier. He knew Ingo’s signature by heart; there had been more than one instance of mismatched mail or people that wouldn’t accept that he was Emmet and not Ingo pretending to be Emmet.
… His current situation didn’t count.
“Hey Mr. Subway Master Ingo?” Lyra suddenly looked shy, gentle grip on her now rolled up poster tightening a hair. “Can I maybe have a hug?”
Emmet was only big on physical contact with those he knew well. He didn’t think it was that strange, and he wasn’t opposed to things like high-fives and arm pats. Ingo was far more likely to accept hugs from fans and children who asked. But Emmet was playing Ingo, and… For once, a hug from someone who cared, even if they didn’t know, even if they only understood him on a superficial level, even if they were only seven, actually sounded pretty good.
So he nodded, bending down til one knee touched the station floor as Ingo was wont to do, and hugged the little kid close.
A little bit, and then all at once, Emmet felt a wave of comfort wash through him like a soothing tide. He hadn’t realized that such a side effect had set in so quickly. After only four days, Emmet was feeling touch-starved. Even so, the man refused to hang on too tight or cry on this girl who was excited to meet his brother.
He let go, and it felt all too soon.
“You give great hugs, Mr. Subway Master Ingo.”
“I… I’m glad,” he said, and truly meant it.
Lyra’s father came up to him, then, and asked where to find the train they had to take next. Emmet explained, then bid them farewell. One arm tucked behind his back, he raised his right hand in a stationary wave. Lyra looked back, hopped into the air a few times, and windmilled her arm around like her life depended on it. And then they were gone, and Emmet was alone again.
The man wasted no time in sweeping back to his office, shaking ever so slightly. The roar of his heartbeat was back, and it was rattling his very bones.
He replaced Ingo’s clothes exactly as he’d found them, folding the coat very particularly. For a moment he wished, absurdly, that he could sprinkle the dust back into the coat that he'd earlier shaken off.
That night, after work, he walked home in the rain alone.
▲▽
The news broke four days after that. Subway Master Ingo was missing, and had been for a week. They’d hoped he’d either return in that time, or they’d at least have more information on the investigation, but there was nothing.
Somewhere, in a hotel room in Nimbasa City, a father read the breaking news on his xtransceiver and did some mental math, putting two and two together.
He did not tell his daughter.
The city was frenzied as soon as the news spread, ordinary people forming search parties and going out to scour the city. Sometimes the groups grew so large that the professionals needed to tell them they could handle it themselves.
In a word, Nimbasa itself was distraught. And so was one Subway Master Emmet.
Emmet hadn't wanted to tell the public about Ingo’s disappearance. He’d be home soon anyways, and he couldn't stand the pitying looks people would give.
He was Emmet! He was not weak and he did not lose!
…
Except he'd lost Ingo, hadn't he?
No, Emmet told himself, it was nothing that he himself had done to chase away Ingo. Ingo had not willingly left, the man knew this, and he for the life of him could not decide if that was better or worse.
Worse, he thought after a moment of thinking about it. Emmet would take his twin hating him if it meant he was alive.
Ancients, what Emmet would do for confirmation that Ingo was alive.
Weeks turned into a month, and Emmet deteriorated more. Random people in Gear Station sometimes asked him how he was doing, if he needed any help. Strangers, people he had never met. He was equal parts touched and repulsed by this.
People treated him differently, but he supposed that made sense because he was fundamentally different. His smile was more fake with every passing day. While the Multi Line and Singles Line were closed indefinitely, even Emmet’s beloved Doubles Line had to close for a week.
Elesa had cared for Emmet at that point. The man had hardly been able to get out of bed, much less go to work. She was there for him though. Through thick and thin. She made sure that he ate at least a little, that he didn’t slip into sickness, and she listened to him. Most of the time she was there he was silent, but other times the words would just pour out of him.
How scared he was, for his own and Ingo’s sakes, how he hoped that Ingo didn’t hate him, how he felt sick of the thought that Ingo could be missing Emmet and totally alone.
How, never before in his entire life, had he been truly lonely.
Ingo and Emmet did not do literally everything together all the time. That would be ridiculous. Each of them had been alone plenty of times, but… Never lonely. Each of them had always known exactly where to find the other.
They were a set of two, individuals who could operate on their own perfectly fine, but did much better working as a pair. A two-car train.
And experiencing the loss of his best friend and closest companion in the world left Emmet a wreck.
He couldn’t bear to think the thought it gets better with time because Ingo WAS coming home. He was he was he was he–
The citizens of Nimbasa seemed to have mixed feelings on that.
Overnight, a photo of Ingo and a small tea candle showed up below the Singles Line sign. The depot agents and other staff members keeping the transit subway flowing debated moving it, especially before Emmet returned to work, but ultimately decided against it. It grew exponentially in the coming days, people adding flowers and signs of mourning. Letters were found, full of gratitude for the Battle Subway and Ingo’s praise and kindness. There were countless ‘come back soon!’ cards from adults and children alike. Flowers that symbolized hope seemed to be popular choices as offerings.
People wanted their second Subway Master back. But before that, they needed their only one back.
Over the next few weeks, Emmet’s emotions had crystallized into something other than helplessness and desperation. His heartbeat stopped drumming in his ears, and he wasn’t prone to tremors out of nowhere anymore. The terrible NEED for circumstances to grant him mercy had dulled after his stint with Elesa, body worn out from the panic that seemed to simmer below the surface at all times.
It had been replaced with numbness, like television static that filled the cavity in his chest, and determination, and a deep deep grief too woven into his very being to name. All of these feelings should cancel each other out, he thought, but the channels and pathways in his psyche were wired in such a way that each emotion simply amplified the others.
But at least, at the very least, he could bring himself to exist in this state.
When he finally felt well enough to get out of the house, Elesa had come with him. They’d decided to start at Gear Station, and walked there on the cold March day. No reporters were out to ask Emmet any questions.
Even they had lines they would not cross, and harassing a beloved public figure in a time of grief seemed to be such a situation.
When the pair had arrived at the station, the memorial had been a shock. And not the kind of shock Emmet had been able to recover from, that day. He had fallen to his knees like a weighted doll, scuffing his slacks, in front of the only lit candle that day. Bunches of blackthorn flowers were sticking out of vases, white petals trailing to the tile below. Forget-me-nots in little cups were scattered around.
The one remaining brother had wailed, hunching forwards until his face was in his hands, and sobbed. The subway staff and the passengers had been frozen, unsure what to do when faced with the great Subway Master Emmet’s breakdown. It had been Elesa, with gentle words, that had almost-literally scooped him off the floor and ushered him to a break room to calm down before heading home.
Emmet had needed three days before he was able to return to just the paperwork portion of his job. Elesa helped fill in on the Single Line so some of the Battle Subway could begin running again. She was the only person Emmet would’ve allowed to do that, if anyone else had tried.
Things slowly crept back to some sort of routine. Slowly and painfully, like a wound scabbing over. It wasn’t even close to healing, but at least the ragged bleeding edges could be closed.
And then…. It had been two and a half months since Ingo had vanished without a trace.
Emmet was fully back at work, as he had been for four weeks now. The shrine underneath the sign for the Singles Line in Gear Station had grown, and Emmet had let it. It hurt, oh Arceus how it hurt. Simply walking past it dealt emotional damage.
But he knew it would simply come back if removed, and… It felt like a crime to remove one of the only ways the city had to grieve Ingo’s absence. He would get used to it. That was his life now, wasn’t it? Getting used to it? Aside from the twinge of normalcy he felt while battling, his entire existence was getting used to it.
People were starting to settle down again, stopping the organized searches but still keeping pages dedicated to finding Ingo up on social media. Many visitors to the subway still wore the pins that some person had made depicting Ingo’s black hat. The shrine was still there and growing. People tried to make Emmet’s job easier. They’d call out troublemakers and people littering or prematurely crossing the yellow line before Emmet had to.
It was a comfort and a source of new grief for Emmet. Don’t forget him, he wanted to beg, but the more logical part of his mind knew this was normal. They were not forgetting.
Even more than Emmet knew, people knew that their city would never be the same. The subway tunnels were the vessels of Nimbasa, the great arteries and veins that carried its people– its lifeblood. And the Subway Master twins were its heart, directing the ebb and flow, challenging those who wished to be challenged, and sharing what they loved with the world.
The world loved them right back.
One day, three months and fifteen days after Ingo vanished, Emmet arrived in Gear Station before anyone else. This was not a surprise. What was a surprise was the words that had been sprayed onto the wall in black spray paint that looked void against the shining white tiles. The words were large, the whole phrase taller than Emmet was. The person had even included the Subway master badge logo.
Seeing those words, placed carefully to compliment the Singles Line sign and not cover it, led to Emmet smiling a real smile, a few tears tracking down his face to leave spots on the floor.
Would this have to be removed eventually? Maybe. Did that have to be now? Absolutely not.
Closing his eyes for a moment to compose himself, Emmet turned on his heel to go and get ready for the day.
When passengers started to arrive, the message was clear for all to see:
SUB. MAS. INGO LIVES ON.
