Chapter Text
Ingo remembered the day they met in snapshots. He was young, then. Their parents mentioned that they had a surprise for the two of them- something to send them off on their journey.
They already caught their starters a while ago, so neither really knew what I could be. A new backpack? A tent?
Ingo remembers the joy he felt when their mother handed him a pokeball- the wonder, the excitement.
He remembers the wide eyes and flicking tail of his new partner, hopeful and kind. He fell in love immediately. Venipede, his friend.
He remembers how jealous Litwick used to be, how it would set his poor friend on fire just so ingo would pay more attention to her.
A silly rivalry they had. Ingo would never pick favorites, but that didn’t stop the two of them begging him for more affection.
Emmet had teased him about that, pleased that his Tynamo and Durant got along perfectly, but ingo knew the two cared for each other.
They loved him so much, and he loved them back.
Their journey was a long one, filled with victories and losses- some harder than others. Through it all, Venipede stuck by his side. They grew together, along with their team.
Venipede got along well with the Trubbish I ngo found in the city, and happily chittered with Dwebble. Klink was happy to fly them around, and they happily helped Drilbur dig whatever tunnel struck their fancy that day.
When they evolved into Whirlipede, not much changed. They still battled, but now victory was followed up by the gentle bump of their wheel against his leg, instead of the scuttling of feet.
It was different, but not in a bad way. Never in a bad way.
It was always just his friend, Venipede, Whirlipede, and finally, Scolipede.
They won gym after gym together, learning each other's body language and tone. The only other Pokémon Ingo felt nearly as connected to was his dear Chandelure.
It was a bond that would never have broken. That shouldn’t have broken.
And then Ingo noticed something was off.
They were running the battle subway, just as usual, but Scolipede seemed more tired than usual. Out of it. Slower.
Ingo had kept them on the bench, just until they felt better.
But the next day they didn’t improve. It just got worse. And worse.
Ingo took them to the hospital- this wasn’t just a funk of some kind, not burn out that they would sometimes experience. He didn’t know what else to do.
By the time his friend was checked out, they were running a high fever. Too high. No one knew what was wrong.
Ingo had sat there, gently running his fingers over his friend's face as they took labored breaths on the table they were resting on, when the doctors finally came in.
Ingo was not one to cry.
But there was nothing more terrifying than losing a best friend- one that has been by his side since before his journey even began.
Ingo was with them, when it was time. When his best friend's breaths slowed, and stopped.
The battle subway remained closed for a while afterwards. Emmet would not leave his brother by himself at the house, and Ingo couldn’t bring himself to go back into the trains he had spent so much time with Scolipede on.
But time is unforgiving, and the battle subway would not stay closed forever.
No one would ask about Ingo’s partner, whose absence was felt throughout the entire station.
When there was a picture of Scolipede, framed and hung, surrounded by flowers.
When Ingo would stop there every single morning, and bow his head.