Chapter Text
The train gently rumbled beneath Ingo, lightly swaying back and fourth on the rails comfortingly. It was almost enough to distract him from his morose thoughts if he weren't holding the cause in his hands.
The shiny pokeball innocently looked back at him with its single eyed gaze. The Pokémon inside didn’t move- hadn’t for a while now. Ingo almost wished it would- shake so violently and roll right out of his hands, shattering on the ground and releasing its occupant in one spectacular explosion of plastic.
But the litwick inside remained inert.
Ingo sighed. He knew that it was improper to be so upset about this- this was his starter, likely to be the strongest in whatever team he one day grew up to train.
And yet…
“I am Emmet,” his brother whispered next to him. Ingo looked over to his bruised twin- his singed hair was largely hidden by his hat, but some of the ends peeked out. It made Ingo feel even worse.
What kind of brother had a starter that hurt his twin?
“You are disappointed.” Emmet murmured, leaning closer to Ingo’s ear, “why?”
Ingo took a moment to mess with the ball in his hands, “we… we were going to have matching starters,” he whispered back, loud enough Emmet leaned back a little.
“They were going to be klink,” he went on, shooting his brother an apologetic look, “two gears working as a team. And we were going to train them together.”
He sniffed, feeling that horrible heat behind his eyes. He didn’t want to cry- not right now.
“I know,” Emmet hummed, swaying with the train for a moment. His mouth was a flat line, eyes sad. They’d had this plan for a long time- ever since they learned about klink and starters and-
Ingo always thought they’d be a pair like that. Having the same face, the same interests, the same starter.
Maybe it was stupid. But still Ingo had hoped.
For that dream to suddenly and violently be ripped away…
Ingo knew litwick didn’t mean to make him upset. It had simply saw him and decided it liked his soul. And then promptly attacked the person who had all of his attention at that moment. Ghosts were possessive.
… they only ever took on one trainer. They hated listening to anyone else but the person they chose.
Not only did Ingo not have a klink, but Emmet would never really be able to even work with Chandelure.
“It’s ok,” Emmet decided. Ingo blinked at his twin. Emmet smiled back, “it’s ok.”
“It- it’s not,” Ingo sniffed again, wiping at his eyes furiously, “we didn’t- you can’t- litwick will never-“
“Ingo.”
He looked up at his brother. Emmet gently smiled at him, leaning forward until they were hugging.
“It’s ok. I am Emmet, I like winning more than anything else. We will figure it out.”
“But- but you won’t be able to train it like we had-“
“You don’t know that.”
Ingo paused. Blinking. “H-huh?”
“You don’t know. That I can’t train litwick.”
“But- but ghosts don’t like anyone but-“
Emmet nodded, “that’s what they say. But I am Emmet. I am not them. And I say I will.”
“You don’t know that!” Ingo giggled, pushing his twin away, “and- and the chances of you finding your own litwick is-“
Emmet shoved his hands onto Ingo’s mouth. “I am Emmet! I will not find a litwick!” He looked to the side, almost embarrassed, “I… have been looking in chagestone cave. A little. And maybe. Befriended a tynamo.”
“!!!” Ingo’s surprise was muffled by his brother’s hands, but he still leaned forward.
“Sorry!” Emmet replied, “I didn’t tell you. I also… wanted to match. But! Now we match in a different way!”
Ingo pulled his twins hands away, “a different way?”
“We’re like the dragons!” Emmet threw up his hands, “you have fire! Like reshiram! And I have thunder! Like zekrom!”
Ingo considered this for a long moment. He looked down at the pokeball in his hands.
“Like the dragons…”
The sphere wobbled, just once. Ingo smiled.
“Ok. I like that.”