Chapter Text
The Pokemon had appeared around the same time as Nobori’s disappearance.
Initially Kudari had paid it no mind, his hands too full with his own grief to even comprehend his surroundings. In fact, the first few weeks he had shut down completely alongside Gear Station, not speaking or making eye contact with anyone, no matter how much gentle coaxing from friends and family. If it hadn’t been for his Pokemon, some feared the once revered Subway Master might have lost himself completely, having often skipped meals in the past without his older brother there to chide him for it.
It was only one day when Kudari was reviewing security footage, a habit he had gotten into doing over and over in hopes of finding something, anything, that would point him towards a clue of what had happened, that he noticed the skittering of a little black mass. With the doors to the Battle Subway still closed until further notice, the creature must have slipped in on its own, wandering the empty halls alone as if searching for something. A chill ran down his spine, throat growing tight as he zoomed in on the mask that dangled from its ghostly limb, but no. No, he wouldn’t even begin to entertain the idea.
Because Nobori was still out there. Nobori was still alive. And he would find him.
That’s around the time people had said he began to spiral. Pouring countless hours into research, unreasonable amounts of money into travel, determined to chase down every lead no matter how ludicrous it may have seemed. In the end he always came up empty handed, every failure chipping away at his already broken resolve, and it was only the little voice of his brother in the back of his head that kept him going. For if he were to give up now, how would he be able to greet Nobori upon his return? How would he ever be able to rest peacefully knowing that Nobori would come home to an empty apartment, fated to suffer the same desolation that had rotted Kudari’s own heart?
After months of exhausting both evidence and funds, Kudari eventually had to settle back into Unova, keeping an ear on the connections he had gained during his investigations while forcing himself to focus on work. If he ran out of money then he would never find out anything, after all, and he had to keep the reopened station in tip-top shape to make Nobori proud. Though his once enthusiastic love for battling had all but diminished, there was no point in coming up with new strategies if he couldn’t get Nobori’s opinion on them, he could still help run things behind the scenes, putting his old mechanical knowledge of trains to use while also sorting through the paperwork that he and his twin used to suffer through together after their shift.
Some of the reports they had started to receive, however, were… Odd. Passengers had complained about a long pitched wailing sound in the subway at night, like someone crying, leading to ominous stories being whispered between the tracks. Of course they just had to revolve around this missing Subway Master, the wound still fresh and open for all to pick at, some claiming that they had heard rumours that someone had pushed Nobori into an oncoming train and that was the real reason they had to close down the station for so long. To both cover and clean up. The images those words conjured in his mind… It made him sick to the point that starvation felt like a mercy.
Every time someone was sent to investigate the strange sound would abruptly stop, and for a while Kudari started to believe it was all just some cruel myth made up to unintentionally hurt him, people often not realizing the effect their words could have on that strained smile. Eventually, after trying to avoid the inevitable for weeks, he decided to look into it himself, the power having suddenly gone out on him late into the night while staying to work overtime. Keeping his lantern close and his Pokeballs closer, Kudari set out towards the hallway where the breaker box was, the platform of the last running train empty aside for one or two drunken passengers trying to make their way home.
It’s only after everyone had boarded and taken off that he heard it, a soft whimpering noise coming from the end of the tunnel where the train had just departed, shrouded in an all encompassing pitch black. Hovering a hand over Eelektross’ ball, Kudari steps forward, shining the beam of light through the darkness as his eyes scan cavern walls for any sign of movement. The sobbing stops, along with his heartbeat, as a cold voice whispers from behind his ear.
“Kudari…”
That voice. He recognizes that voice. How could he ever forget it? Especially with all the nights spent lying awake, repeatedly listening to the last voicemail his brother had left for him, asking about something mundane like if he would like him to bring home a dessert from their favourite bakery to have after dinner that night. The night he never came home.
The speed in which Kudari whips around shocks even himself, cold sweat pouring down his face as he holds the lantern out like a shield, his once silent heart now hammering in his ribcage with full force. What greets him is not the handsome welcoming face of his brother, but rather a small black wisp, its large white eyes peering through him expectantly. Once again he notices the blue steel oval it cradles in its grasp, like some sort of distorted mirror, the features etched into it resembling his own aside from the perpetual scowl.
“Get away from me…” Kudari rasps, taking a step back towards the darkness, as if it were safer there than here with that… That thing.
The little blob looks at him as if in pain, unmoving, but appearing as if it wants to say something, as if that was even a possibility. Soon his vision begins to blur, whether that be from the constant shaking of his hand trying to hold up the lantern or the tears beginning to well up in his eyes, Kudari isn’t sure, but then he isn’t about to discern much of anything as panic sets into every nerve.
“I said get away!” His scream echoes throughout the tunnel, uncharacteristically loud, tossing the lantern in a last ditch effort to protect himself.
It works. The creature startles, those sad looking eyes jolting wide as it slinks away, disappearing around a corner as it seems to all but fade out of existence.
Kudari doesn’t speak of the incident, nor does he work anymore late nights, taking whatever extra work he might have home with him long before the sun sets. The rumours, however, only get worse. The wailing at night becomes a constant to the point where no one, not even those numbed by alcohol, dare to venture the Nimbasa station during the evening schedule. Only a few foolish ghost hunters wager their chances against the beast haunting the Battle Subway, and that’s when the stories take a turn that not even Kudari had anticipated.
It had long been expected that whatever lurked in the shadows was a Pokemon, considering there was an entire type devoted to those monsters that arose from the spirit world, and if it was a Pokemon that meant it could be battled and caught. The surprising thing was just how powerful the ghost turned out to be. People reported having their entire teams wiped by a single Yamask, the little guy clearly a veteran to the battlefield, even those who had taken on and won the Battle Subway earlier that day losing to some lonely stray.
As the word spread and more people began to flock at the chance to battle such a fearsome foe, Kudari found himself suddenly stricken with a lump of fear he tried to deny. What if someone had managed to succeed in defeating the thing? What if they captured it and took it away? That should be a good thing. Right? If it was gone, then he would never have to face the truth of what, of who, it was. He could just forget and keep searching until he found the actual Nobori, alive and well and happily welcoming him back into his arms.
“I managed to weaken it pretty badly, but in the end it got away.”
Kudari feels his heart sink, his blood beginning to irrationally boil at the random passersby waiting next to him on the platform. They were talking about the Yamask of course, gloating in fact, at how close they had come to catching the miserable little thing. It would only be a matter of time until someone defeated it, especially with how many blows it kept taking night after night, hardly given any time to properly nurse its wounds.
“Don’t touch him.” The threat leaves his quivering smile before he even realizes what he’s said, the trainer startling at just how deep and guttural it came out.
“Ah, Subway Master Kudari! I-I’m sorry.” The young man in question bows his head in apology, the friend he had been talking to trying to hide behind him from the cold glare they were receiving. “I didn’t realize– Is that Yamask part of the Gear Station staff?”
His stare goes blank, something processing in the back of his mind, before he abruptly turns on his heel and strides off. That night, Gear Station is shut down to all visitors, a necessary abuse of power in order to formulate a plan and confront this persistent issue head on. It was irresponsible to have let it go on this long, and he knew Nobori would have been disappointed in him, putting his own selfish fears before the safety of the passengers.
Tonight, however, he was going to go full steam ahead, just as he used to when his brother was still here to battle at his side.
“I know you’re herrrrrre.” Returning to the same platform as before, Kudari calls out to the empty air, the tunnel swallowing his voice. “Come on out.”
When his request gets no response, Kudari sighs, spreading his arms wide and opening himself up to the ominous silence. “I’m sorry about before. You startled me, is all. But I’m here now to set things right.”
The large overhanging clock ticks impatiently a few times, each passing second like a cold blade of ice down his spine, but eventually, as the hour strikes 3AM, a black mist begins to roll in through the tracks. This time Kudari’s smile only widens, allowing his feet to be engulfed by the obscuring smoke as he stands perfectly still, calmly waiting for the arrival of his guest. From the darkness arises two glowing eyes, blank and haunting much like his own, slowly, hesitantly, drifting towards him before stopping at a reasonable distance to give the man a comfortable space.
“There you are.” Kudari breaths, clasping his hands behind his back as he tries to control the flexion of his voice.
The Pokemon only stares at him, once again looking like it wants to speak, but what an absurd notion that was. No, Pokemon couldn’t speak, not without some form of telepathy anyway, the voice he had heard clearly that of his own consciousness trying to warn him. It wasn’t the first time his brain had conjured his big brother’s voice after all, often when he needed a reminder to take care of himself, so it only made sense he would have hallucinated such a thing that night when he had been frightened out of his mind.
“I have heard that you are quite the powerful Pokemon.” Kudari hums, reaching for the Pokeball on his belt. “Such a win streak deserves a reward, agreed?”
It continues to just float there, infuriatingly still, not even having the decency to pretend to be afraid or excited or whatever else such a declaration could possibly instill.
“I am Kudari. Tonight you shall be riding the Super Single Train. But do not fret, I always follow the rules.”
True to his word, the first Pokemon Kudari sends out is Excadrill, the very same Pokemon Nobori would have used if he were still running Super Single schedule. The ground begins to shake as he issues the first attack, going for a full out offense, hoping to make this as quick and painless for the both of them as possible. It hits, but his opponent is able to skirt away with only a small scratch, a stark reminder of just how tanky the Yamask line tended to be. Before he has the chance to strike again, the little wisp dashes in close, reeling back one of its appendages to strike a heavy punch into the mole Pokemon’s side.
Was that– Hidden Power? Fighting type? Well well, it seemed the little guy’s reputation wasn’t for naught, though unfortunately for Excadrill that meant taking a painful blow, the dual Steel typing working against them in this situation. In an attempt to at least weaken the other, Kudari proposes a Poison Jab, but the attack falls short, and with one more powerful smack to the jaw his Pokemon is knocked out cold.
“Not bad.” Kudari admits, returning Excadrill to the safety of their ball, his smile growing a bit manic as that long lost thrill begins to accumulate inside him.
Next up is Haxorus, their tail lashing against the tile as they prepare to take revenge for their fallen comrade. Kudari orders them to set up, wanting to strike precise and hard so as not to draw this out any longer, but it seems he isn’t the only one with this strategy. A calm silence fills the space between them as the Yamask focuses, the dimensions around the station appearing to alter as Trick Room comes into play. It feels almost like a spit in the face to his Dragon Dance, the speed boost instead working against him as his opponent uses the extra allotted time to raise its own abilities.
Realizing that he was essentially locking them into defeat, Kudari issues an attack while he has the chance, Haxorus slashing down with their claws and landing a critical hit. They must have aimed for an injury left there from a previous battle, something Kudari desperately tries not to think about, feeling a hollow twist in his stomach every time he sees the little black blob get hurt. It staggers to the ground, panting softly as it looks on the edge of collapse, but before the dragon Pokemon can finish the job it manages to fire off a Shadow Ball point blank into their face.
Falling back with a howl, Haxorus is the one who ends up being unable to get back up, forcing Kudari to retrieve them with the acknowledgment of his second Pokemon being defeated.
Despite having just been knocked out two to one, the Subway Master can’t help but laugh, a surge of excitement rushing through his veins from having such a real challenge. For some reason it makes him proud, the way the stubborn little ghost Pokemon refuses to go down, how, despite looking utterly exhausted, it continues to pull itself back up, wavering a bit in place as it readies to stand its ground. It would get to rest soon, however, Kudari tossing his last Pokeball onto the field, knowing that one decisive blow was all that was needed to win this.
Purple flames pierce through the rolling darkness as Chandelure takes the stage, flexing the iron bars that compose her arms as she readies herself for a command, only to fall still upon seeing her opponent. The way in which she rushes across the platform is staggering, leaving a trail of sparks as she emits that piercing ring of a cry, causing the Yamask to shrink back a bit as she circles and nudges it affectionately. Lantern oil leaks from the globes of her eyes, fire burning brightly as she chitters and wails, both distraught and jubilated as if reunited with an old friend.
“Chandelure, Shadow Ball!”
The call of her trainer causes her to fall silent, turning back to face him and stare vacantly, as if not understanding.
“You heard me!” Kudari’s throat feels dry, wetting his lips as he tries again. “Your foe is weak, go on and finish it!”
Chandelure glances back at her opponent, the crystal glass of her body still streaked with kerosene tears, the two ghosts connecting on some unseen level, before suddenly she makes her move. Drifting out in front of the Yamask, the lantern Pokemon places herself between it and Kudari, as if protecting it from him; as if it was her trainer.
It feels like a stab to the back, Chandelure being one of the few things Kudari still had left of his brother, and now here she was, going against him too. In that moment he feels himself spiraling again, becoming as lost as the day Nobori first disappeared, like the time when he was a kid and became separated from his family in the city. Truly and utterly alone, forgotten and unloved, and all of it was his fault his fault his fault–
“Don’t you understand…!” He feels his voice crack, balling his hands into fists and he tries to stabilize himself. “That– That thing. It’s dangerous! I need to get rid of it, or else… Or else, Nobori-niisan–”
That seems to be what breaks the dam, not even realizing just how hard he’s crying until he feels the droplets soaking through his white shirt, trying to take in a breath only for it to come out as an ugly sob. Finally his legs give out, and Kudari is barely able to catch himself as he collapses to his knees, each little whimper he tries to suppress only wracking his entire frame as he presses his palms to his eyes as if that would stop the flow. All this time trying to hold it in, trying to avoid even saying his brother’s name from how much it made his chest ache, it all comes out at once, here at his last stop.
“I’m so sorry, Nobori-niisan! I’m so sorry!” His wailing is almost incoherent, possessing its own ghostly melody as he sinks further and further into himself. “I failed you, I– I couldn’t save you in time. And now, now you’re…”
His head rolls back as he weeps openly, not even caring what a mess he must look, the world around him nonexistent when he was too despondent over the loss of his world. He nearly coughs out a sharp gasp as two hands press against his cheeks, the chilling touch almost soothing to his flushed skin, hiccupping pitifully as he tilts his head down to come face to face with that of his brother’s. As the little black creature presses its forehead against his own, Kudari swallows hard, lifting his shaking hands to gently grasp the mask and press his lips to its engraved frown.
That was the last night anyone complained about the sound of sobbing coming from Gear Station.
–
“Poor thing is exhausted, but with some rest it should be back in tip-top shape.” The nurse at the Pokemon Center explains as she lets him into the recovery room, the Audino at her side offering him some coffee before he takes a seat beside the bed. “Does it belong to you?”
Looking over at the sleeping Yamask, Kudari reaches over to tuck the little guy in properly, a genuine smile spreading across his lips for the first time in months. “Yes. He’s mine.”