Chapter Text
Kieran has a plan.
Kieran is going to go to Blueberry. Just like Carmine did, and he will do well, and win battles, and then everyone will like him and want to be friends with him and his grandparents will be proud of him and smile when they see him and then Carmine will love him and include him and understand him and laugh with him and-
And. And, and, and.
Kieran can practically see it, that glorious bright future spread out before him like the view from the top of Oni Mountain, sprawling and vast and beautiful.
He should have known. He should have known that he-
(why did he ever think that he could do anything?)
And so, Kieran kneels on the floor of his bedroom, holding the letter in two hands as if it is something precious which has not just shattered all of his beautiful, beautiful dreams into a million glittering fragments of what could have been.
He stays there. He doesn’t know how long.
Nana is trying to make him get up. Kieran calls him back.
When the shadows grow long, and the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, Carmine comes home. She barges in, and Kieran is not angry at her for the invasion of his privacy. He doesn’t think that he’s angry about anything at all.
And then she reaches for the tear stained letter still clenched in white knuckled hands, and Kieran lets her. It’s not like she was expecting anything else, anyway. He doesn’t know why he’s so upset. Now, she can go to school without having to worry about her annoying little brother following her around.
She takes it, because that’s what Carmine does.
She takes.
She takes, and Kieran gives, and so he gives her the proof of what they’ve always known and stays knelt on the hardwood floor, a nail pressing uncomfortably into his knee as he stays there. It’s probably breaking skin. Kieran can’t bring himself to care.
It falls to the floor, lands softly, ever so softly, and Carmine says something.
Kieran doesn’t hear it.
He is already running, running with all of the meagre strength in his half-asleep legs as he staggers away into the night. Blood runs down his leg, mixing with tears still flowing down his cheeks to mark his passage.
Eventually, Kieran stops. Turns. He can still see the lights of Mossui Town in the distance. He tugs viciously on a loose strand of hair. Idiot. He can’t even run away right.
Kieran starts trudging back. After all, he couldn’t survive in the wilderness. Everyone knows that.
At his side, a Pokéball rattles.
Tears force themselves from eyes long dry, rolling down his face and falling gently to the ground below. Be brave, Kieran. He doesn’t-he doesn’t deserve-
He’s cut off by the Pokéball by his side bursting open in a flash of light, illuminating the darkness of the night.
Nana emerges, the proud dragon materializing before him.
Kieran falls to his knees for the second time today, making an effort to meet Nana’s eyes. He owes him that much, at least.
(he owes him so much more than he will ever know)
The Applin meets his eyes, black eyes on gold, and says nothing.
Kieran prostrates himself like a man before his god, and tries to speak in a voice crackling from sobbing and disuse. “I-I-I’m so sorry.” He starts to cry again. The tears fall to and are absorbed by the earth. The salt will kill the plants. Even his sorrow is poison. “I f-failed.”
Three, why can’t he just fucking speak?
“I-I didn’t get in,” Kieran admits, looking down so that he doesn’t have to see the disappointment that he knows that Nana’s showing. “I can’t-I can’t help you. I know I promised, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault, I’m-“ Kieran swallows the full throated wail about to emerge from his mouth, screams into the dirt instead.
He must look so pathetic. Look at him, little weakling, so small and weak and crying in the dirt like a child.
(but children are innocent, aren’t they?)
Nana hops closer, lands atop Kieran’s back. The Applin growls, the sound low and vibrating Kieran’s entire body as Nana sits atop him like a dragon on its hoard.
Kieran pauses. Cracks open one golden eye. “N-Nana?”
Nana snorts, and Kieran just knows.
“B-but I d-I didn’t get in,” Kieran whispers. “I didn’t get in,” he repeats, and the gravity of the situation sinks into him. “Y-you came with me because I-I promised that you would be strong. I promised, Nana.”
Nana scoffs, descends from his perch on high to position himself directly in front of Kieran. Locking eyes, he roars, exposing toothless gums. The sound is high, squeaky.
It’s not funny in the slightest.
Kieran wants to cry.
“I-I-I-“
Nana-well, he doesn’t smile. Kieran doesn’t even think that he can. But he edges closer and lets Kieran hold him in his arms even though normally he pushes Kieran away on the best of days, and lets Kieran cry over him as they sit there in the mud even though Kieran is a liar and a cheat.
Kieran looks down at him, gold eyes staring down at small black ones, and words bubble up out of his throat. “Thank you,” he says, and the words keep coming. “Y-you can still be strong. I-“ Kieran can’t promise. Not after the last one. “I-I’ll try. I’ll get books, and vitamins, and-and-“
He’s cut off by yet another roar, high pitched and piercing as Nana looks expectantly at him. Kieran’s stomach rumbles. He swallows, forces a quick smile. “Y-you’ll come, right?”
And Nana snorts and goes back to preening as if the question was never in doubt. It must be so simple for him. Right and wrong, yes and no.
Kieran doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t, and yet as they walk home together he cannot bring himself to push Nana away.