Walking back down the sky staircase was the worst thing that could have happened to Emmet in that moment. It wasn’t wide enough for them to descend side by side, which made Ingo take up the lead, hoping to provide something else for Emmet to look at so he didn’t fixate on the space below. It just made Emmet worry that he would misstep and send them both crashing down-- and, even worse, being arranged like that meant Ingo kept looking back at him to ensure that he wasn’t panicking. Every time, he barked that his brother needed to keep his eyes on the track ahead, and every time, Ingo would feel the need to double check just a few minutes later.

In the moment, he didn't realize that it was for both of their sake: to gauge how Emmet was faring, and to ensure that it wasn't his imagination, this really was happening. It wasn't worth the safety violation but... it was understandable. Not logical, but understandable-- and terribly, terribly human, just like his brother behind him.

Before they’d left the Hall of Origin, Ingo had tried to explain how this would work, but the concepts were fairly abstract, and he’d had to simplify it: they had a choice of three different stations to disembark at, each of them sites of some significance to the Original One. First was the Spear Pillar, of course, the second was something called the Mystri Stage, and the third was the very peak of Dragonspiral Tower. The choice was obvious; Emmet had traveled to Sinnoh for the singular purpose of scaling Mount Coronet, and if he had the opportunity to go straight home, he would take it in an instant. He didn't want to brave the stairs and the airport.

After a great deal of petty squabbling, they made it to the bottom of the staircase, and color began to seep back into the world. Dragonspiral Tower was immense-- on some days its peak could be obscured by cloud cover-- but today it was clear, and Ingo looked to its southern edge. He didn’t say anything, but Emmet could tell that he wanted to head over; the problem was that he didn’t want to leave him behind.

He didn’t see any reason to spoil his brother’s excitement, and at least there was a barrier in place to prevent any accidents from occurring, so he went along with it.

To be entirely fair to Ingo, the sights were spectacular. It gave one a sweeping view of northern Unova, clear across the Moor of Icirrus and the western delta, and depending on the directionality, either a glimpse of Opelucid’s old stone buildings or the vast Entree Forest. Emmet kept a step back, but Ingo gripped at the makeshift rail, leaning dangerously past it; without thinking, Emmet’s hand snapped out and he seized his brother by the collar. Ingo startled. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then he planted himself more firmly on their side of the barrier and continued to gaze out over the region.

He’d talked about being homesick-- incredibly, painfully homesick-- but Emmet hadn’t expected a reaction like this. His hand dropped from Ingo’s collar to his shoulder, and that seemed to prompt a response.

“By technicality, I was confined to the Hall of Origin for longer than I lived before it. I missed…” He went quiet, not exactly choked up, but unable to ascribe one specific word to the totality what he felt. How could he pick when there was so much to choose from? Emmet focused on that part to the exclusion of the rest of it; there was a lot that still needed to be discussed, but now was neither the time nor the place. He moved his hand to his twin’s far arm to pull him into a loose hug, and even though Ingo didn’t look away just yet, he leaned closer to knock their heads together.

Eyes focused somewhere far away, he spoke again, quietly, almost lost to the altitude even when they were right next to each other.

“Thank you. If you hadn’t sought me out…”

Emmet snorted. “What? Was I supposed to be content with the messages? Of course I was going to meet you. You fought to get back home. Verrrry literally.”

At that, Ingo finally turned his head, pressing his face into Emmet’s shoulder and gripping him with both arms. Emmet wrapped his spare arm around him, too, and patted a shoulder blade, trying to maintain his own composure. It was almost a guarantee that he’d break down a third time-- at the very least-- before night fell, but for now he stayed perfectly steady and let his twin get the sudden burst of emotions out.

Trying to leave Dragonspiral Tower was like walking through a transportation museum with a small child, and Emmet may have made the comparison because, once upon a time, he’d been the child in question. Now, the tables had turned, and he felt for their poor parents. Ingo was just so happy to be back out in the world that everything warranted a gasp of amazement or needed to be announced at the top of his lungs. Emmet hadn’t thought the tower was all that interesting, but apparently he’d been blind to it’s real potential all this time.

It was a little excessive, but Ingo’s sense of wonder wasn’t hurting anyone; as long as they got back to civilization before the end of the day, Emmet was content to go at whatever pace suited his brother.

Just as he made that decision, his twin drew a sharp breath and went tearing ahead, looking to the level above, where a pair of Mienfoo could be seen practicing their Jump Kicks on one another.

“Oh, wonderful form!” Ingo exclaimed, echoing up into the highest floors. One of their heads snapped over and then both of them looked down, mystified by the sudden commentary. “What an excellent partnership-- you’ve facilitated one another’s growth beautifully!”

Emmet gave him a second, following at a more sedate pace, before corralling him and leaving the Mienfoo to their training. He slung an arm over Ingo’s shoulder to keep him a little more reined in; while he didn’t want to dim his brother’s enthusiasm, he knew the physical contact would be a good incentive to stay nearby. His bet paid off. While Ingo was no more reserved in his praise of a Golett with particularly fluid movement or awed by the sight of a Druddigon herding its young, he stayed firmly attached to Emmet’s side.

They took a little longer than expected to get out of Dragonspiral Tower, but when they finally made it to the ground level, the walk to Icirrus was so short as to be nonexistent. That left them with two immediate options: they could take advantage of the westbound train that was currently in the station, or make the walk to Opelucid. Technically there was a third choice: they could wait for the green line to pass through, but the trip from Icirrus City to Opelucid City was laughably brief, and they’d be idling in the station far longer than they’d actually be on the train.

Ingo was completely torn; on one hand, he was looking at a potential first trip on the subway system since getting back! On the other, the idea of returning to Opelucid City was an enticing one. Since time was rapidly ticking down and his brother was caught up in his thoughts, Emmet made the decision for them.

“This way. I have an idea.” He said, urging them toward Route 8. Ingo snapped out of his reverie and blinked at him, but moved without a whisper of complaint.

Part of Emmet’s thought process was that, if the interior of Dragonspiral Tower had been so exciting, they might as well pass through the wetlands and over the bridge, just to add a little color. In spite of his earlier concerns, it was nowhere near dusk yet, so it would be a pleasant walk, Tornadus or Thundurus depending. The other part…

They stepped out onto Tubeline with plenty of time to spare and, as expected, Ingo immediately became preoccupied with the Pokemon flying above or passing beneath, across the delta. Their pace dropped dramatically when he spotted a flock of Ducklett dipping their heads into the water, trying to catch dinner, but that was perfectly fine. Emmet counted the minutes down, and gently turned him around so he wouldn’t miss the sight on their side of the bridge. Before Ingo could ask, the roar of machinery sounded from below, and the eastbound train caught up to, and then overtook them.

A wordless, but utterly delighted shout echoed clear across Tubeline Bridge, and he took several running steps to keep the final subway car in his sights as long as he could. His coat fluttered wildly behind him, betraying no trace of the inhuman crest it kept hidden, and while slightly deafening, it was an encouraging scene to behold. Emmet couldn’t articulate what a relief it was, and so he didn’t even try; he was just silently grateful that his brother was still his brother, no matter what Hisui or Arceus pulled. There were moments that he’d been legitimately scared they might find one another again, only to be unrecognizable and incompatible--

But, hooves or no hooves, there were some things that stayed consistent.

Save for a very exciting wild Garbodor encounter outside of Shopping Mall Nine, the rest of the trip was mostly uneventful, and Ingo was visibly tempering his enthusiasm as they stepped out of the gate into Opelucid proper. He all but vibrated against Emmet’s side as they walked toward Drayden’s house, and Emmet gave him a poke, hoping to release some of that energy.

“I haven’t been around so many people in years.” He whispered, and, somehow, he didn’t let the words explode out of him in the process. Privately, Emmet thought that was a relatively low estimate, but he didn’t give voice to it. Instead, he lovingly tugged the bill of his brother’s hat down.

“I do not think Drayden will allow us to leave tonight. But tomorrow we will go home. Then you can yell about the city all you like.” He was sure the silencer was vital in Hisui-- and certainly, it was helpful at the moment-- but he also missed his twin’s booming passion, and those times he’d loudly announced the details of the world around them had been some of Emmet’s favorites on their commute.

Ingo sputtered and tilted his hat upright again, but didn’t lose their pace as he did so, trusting that his brother was keeping them on track.

Unfortunately, they hadn’t meandered long enough to meet Drayden at home, so Emmet couldn’t show off yet. Usually, he would have had a spare key, but he’d had no reason to bring it with him on what might have been a one-way trip to Sinnoh, and everything Ingo had on him had been magically dumped on his bed at the time of his disappearance. If asked at a later date, neither of them would have had a straight answer for how that led to going around back and cajoling Drayden’s Altaria into unlocking the sliding door; the best either of them would come up with was that they made each other dumber with sheer proximity.

After a few tries, Emmet managed to coax Altaria into flipping the bolt, thus granting them access. As he passed it by-- rustling its fluffy feathers for a job well done-- it clucked at him; he wouldn’t have thought any more of it, if not for the mildly affronted, “I beg your pardon?” that followed.

He paused and turned at the waist, unsurprised to find it was just the two of them and the dragon. That left very few options.

“Are you talking to Altaria?” He asked flatly.

Belatedly, Ingo looked to the dragon, as if processing for the first time that yes, that was exactly what he was responding to. Both parties seemed surprised-- though not for the same reasons, if the way Altaria pounced was any indication-- and around its downy body, Ingo managed a sheepish, “...yes.”

Okay, sure. If this kind of weirdness was the cost of getting his twin back, he wasn’t going to look a gift dragon in the mouth. He shrugged and dropped the topic, leaving further exploration for a slower day, and moved on into the house. Behind him, he heard the door slide shut and a muffled, “The beak on you. Have you always been like this, or is it a recent development?”

So Altaria was talking shit, then. Good to know, he guessed. It wasn’t actually that surprising; he knew the dragon’s temperament, and that was precisely why they’d recruited its help in breaking in. He idled several paces away, waiting for his brother.

When Ingo caught up, he still had both arms full of fluff, and Altaria was firmly anchored to the scarf tucked under his collar, adamantly refusing to let him set it down. He didn’t say anything, but the wry tilt to his eyes said plenty.

“Why are you looking at me? I can’t blame him for being happy to see you.” Emmet said, pressing his lips into a line in an attempt to contain his amusement.

Under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t be a great deal to do here in Drayden’s absence, but if Opelucid itself had gotten a reaction from Ingo, then of course the house they’d lived in for half their childhoods would stir him up. He carted Altaria around just about the entire time, arms wrapping more tightly around it when emotions started getting the better of him, and it leaned into the hugs. It was sweet; he’d carried Swablu around like that, too, back when the lot of them were kids.

They stuck to communal areas out of respect, and after looking at the clock, Emmet decided he’d put the kettle on so everyone could have a hot drink when Drayden got home. At that, Altaria tentatively let Ingo out of his sights and followed the younger twin, always paranoid that, if he didn’t, he’d miss out on a treat. After refilling the pot, Emmet showed the dragon exactly what he had and pointed out to the hallway.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me, either. You already got a surprise. Don’t be greedy.” He told it flatly.

As instructed, it craned its neck around to look-- there was Ingo, staring wistfully at one of those old landscape paintings-- and, deigning that the elder twin did not have anything to offer, turned its eyes back on Emmet.

He sighed and put the kettle back in place. How characteristic of a dragon, to hoard what it had and want even more.

As he flipped its switch, he heard keys in the door, and started moving toward it. Instead of the big heavy creak he’d expected, though, what followed was the door being knocked open, a tussle, then a thump and a yelp. When Emmet hurried around the corner, he found a feral pink shape pinning his brother to the ground; it was clear what must have happened, and while it was kind of funny, he didn’t want Iris to do anything she might regret.

“It’s alright!” He said, drawing every set of eyes in the vicinity, “We are intruding, but we are not intruders. Altaria opened the door for us.”

Back on the kitchen table, Altaria squawked in outrage at being sold out, and Emmet could only imagine the language it used.

Lingering in the threshold, Drayden gave him a critical once-over. “You’re supposed to be in Sinnoh right now.”

“Hm. Nope. No need anymore.” He said simply, then crouched down. Iris squinted at him as he went, but he didn’t acknowledge her just yet, picking up Ingo’s fallen hat, instead. Addressing the top of his twin’s head, he said, “I hope you also missed the floor.”

Ingo had managed to get his arms in front of him as he fell, which meant that, even with a teenager’s full weight on him, it couldn’t have been that bad. Uncomfortable, sure, but compared to what he'd endured in Hisui? This was nothing.

With his face halfway buried behind an arm, Ingo sighed. “On the contrary; I’m beginning to yearn for tatami mats.”

Emmet snorted and laid the cap loosely over his brother’s head. Iris squeaked in response to the comment, and hastily climbed off, closer to Emmet; in all of the commotion, Drayden shut the door behind him and quickly circled around to join them. There was a full audience as Ingo pushed himself up off of the floor and hastily reached back to keep his hat from falling off; he was holding it in both hands when he finally sat up straight and looked at them.

His eyes were bright with emotion and he made to say something but, instead, a laugh escaped him, and he hid the bottom of his face behind the cap. It was a noise of pure relief, of the realization that, after all this time, he was finally here. He’d finally made it home.

It was born of long-awaited respite, but quickly turned into a sob.

With a quiet word of request, Emmet stepped forward, past Drayden and Iris, and knelt in front of his brother, making himself a human barrier. He understood. It didn’t matter who, or if there was even anyone there; this was something meant to be kept from the world at large. He was going to afford his twin the same dignity he’d been granted.

Ingo took the offer immediately, and hid against his brother’s chest as the air escaped his lungs in a harrowing, continuous rush. Emmet waited until it ended, then-- slowly, patiently-- breathed in for the both of them. He felt an echo beside him, and blew it out. Exactly as Arceus’s inky form had carried them through before, his breath the wind itself, Emmet would reciprocate to the best of his ability.

It was the way of their world: a question and answer, a call and response.

In and out.