Akari hadn’t had a plan for today; she had just ridden along with circumstance, and circumstance had provided.
When a distortion began to form, she thought nothing of it. When half a day passed and the halo of rainbow parhelia had yet to form into anything otherworldly, it struck her as odd. When it gradually began to solidify, a far cry from the usual snap of lightning, she realized this might be it.
It was in the Fieldlands, near the border to Coronet; if its pace stayed consistent, she could easily make it to the Highlands and back.
Akari didn’t have any doubts about whether or not Ingo would accompany her, but, just to emphasize how very badly she need a refresher on safe travel, if only someone would show her, she didn’t dismount from Wyrdeer when she saw him up on the cliffs-- she summoned Braviary and reached up without stopping, pulling herself into position just as the Lord flapped his wings and ascended.
It could be difficult to parse Ingo’s expressions on a good day, but she was pretty sure she was familiar enough with ‘utter exasperation’ to read that one properly.
When she began to descend, Lady Sneasler-- stone faced as her Warden-- held up the basket and Akari promptly dropped into it. The Noble’s arms didn’t so much as quake with the impact and, just as Akari moved to climb out, Sneasler stuffed the top down over her head. Akari huffed dramatically and wriggled out through the viewing hole.
They were her favorites. She could hardly believe she’d ever been frightened of either of them.
She righted herself, beaming, and ran over to grab Ingo’s hand.
“An unusual rift is forming in the Fieldlands! I think it might be our path home-- please, come with me?”
Briefly, he glanced over her shoulder to Lady Sneasler, then back to her; in that moment, Akari already knew what the answer was. Out of habit, he reached with his free hand to adjust the brim of his cap, and inclined his head. “I’ll escort you safely to your destination.”
And. Alright. She’d been asking for that.
When they reached the Fieldlands again, something odd was happening. The distortion began to rapidly turn opaque, proportionate to their speed of approach, and, though they stopped a safe distance away to gauge the phenomena, it seemed something had been set into motion.
Belated as it was, the thunderclap finally struck. And didn’t end. The sky roared as a metal serpent tore its way through, descending into the crackling dome of the rift.
Akari tried to yell, tried to ask if that could really be a Pokemon, but any response she may or may not have received was swallowed by the din rushing outward from the distortion. Louder and louder, something inside the rift cried out with a terrible crash, and then it exploded. The ground beneath their feet roiled in protest, belying just how treacherous their perch was about to become.
As she reached to her companions, trying to make the most of their short window of escape, two things happened: she saw Ingo’s lips move, soundless against the howling winds, and he started sprinting toward the distortion.
She lunged forward, trying to catch the torn edge of his coat and pull him back, but the tatters slipped through her fingers and she screamed after him, certain she was watching her friend run to his death.
He stopped short of the warzone that had once been a distortion but, before Akari’s heart had the chance to settle, was knocked off of his feet. Something light tumbled to a halt beside him, falling from his arms, and, as soon as it touched the ground, the rift popped. In the intensity of the past thirty seconds’ wake, the silence was absolutely deafening.
After a second, the white shape-- a man-- pushed himself upright. Ingo moved to do the same and, for a lingering moment, they stayed that way: mirroring one another, almost nose to nose. Then the man reached out, his hand trembling visibly even from this distance, and took Ingo by the shoulder. He drew the both of them up. Ingo let him, reaching to steady himself, but didn’t look away.
As they straightened, so too did their coats, unfolding into inverted versions of the other.
There was a long silence, and Akari glanced to Sneasler, trying to judge whether the Noble was concerned for her Warden and how to proceed. The Lady’s eyes were narrowed as she watched, but not aggressively so; her ears were perked, listening, intent on the scene playing out before her.
They flattened as something keened. Ingo was already turning away from them, back to the man in white when she checked, only willing to tear his attention away for so long. Sneasler raised a paw as she snickered to herself, amused at his antics, and began loping forward. Akari took a long leap to catch up.
The men moved so quickly they were nearly a grey blur; one moment clinging together, the next whirling into a hysterical spin as Ingo, in turn, swept the white shape off his feet.
Sound was gradually beginning to seep back into the world and, before the surrounding Starly or Kriketot could get a peep in edgewise, Akari heard laughter. It was a heavy note, weighed down with more meaning than Akari had ever heard in its like; it was disbelief and a lightning strike of comprehension, respite and wonder, the final whistle of a vessel that had found its destination.
When they stilled and the man in white hooked his chin over Ingo’s shoulder, grinning widely even as tears streamed down his cheeks, Akari couldn’t have been less surprised to see that they bore the same face.
Sneasler’s path curved, approaching from behind the other, her gaze fixed fondly on the spot where her Warden was hidden.
Eventually, Ingo looked up from his reflection’s collar.
It was strange. His eyes had a natural reflective quality that practically made them glow, but there was something new there; months after the fact and Akari was just now realizing that, the entire time she’d known him, he’d been missing a spark of life. When he looked up with the single happiest frown Akari had ever seen, there was light in his eyes.
The difference was night and day, and she didn’t know how she hadn’t seen its absence sooner.
Struck speechless, he gave them a tiny nod as they drew nearer, which seemed to rouse his twin’s attention. The man in white whirled them both around, angled so he could see without releasing his grip.
“Ah.” He said, and briefly ducked his head to press it against Ingo’s; perhaps in fortification, perhaps as reassurance, “I am Emmet. Thank you for acting as my brother’s escort. I will be commandeering your passenger, now.”
Akari had been wrong about the specifics of the distortion, but not its ultimate outcome. In its own explosive way, it had been a track home.