Chapter Text
What a sight she must’ve looked, staggering up to Iscan and Palina in the Coastlands. Immodest in her now-tattered yukata, covered in scrapes and dirt from dodging wild pokemon and scrambling up and down cliffs, hair and eyes wild. Poor Iscan had nearly fallen over in fright, and Palina had tended to Akari with uncharacteristic sternness until the younger woman had allowed the Warden to nick her arm with a silver knife.
A Zoroark test. Akari passed.
No pack, no partners, not even shoes nor smallclothes. Every attempt at explaining her whereabouts had devolved into choking and coughing; Akari had wiped black specks of something off the back of her hand onto the already-ruined robe. Iscan had carried her up the beach to the Galaxy camp as night fell.
Palina and a security corpswoman had joined Akari in a tent and cleaned her up, writing down her injuries and their stories as best they could in the lamplight. Most everything was from the past day of travel, save a few bruises she didn't even try to explain. The two women helped bandage her up and dress her in an oversized security uniform before leaving her to rest.
They struck out for Jubilife in the morning, insisting she ride in the supply cart instead of walking.
Akari learned that she’d been missing for nearly two months, though it had felt more like a week or two. Volo had been showing up in the village and camps, apparently concerned, saying she’d split off to work on some research notes and never reconnected. Smug bastard had “reconnected” plenty of times. Her throat closed up anytime she tried to contradict Volo’s story or perceived character.
A few more strange things had happened in her absence. A box containing her pokeballs had appeared on the table in Laventon’s office with no explanation, her confused but unharmed team filling the room as soon as the lid was opened, causing no small amount of panic. The Clan Leaders had visited the pastures and asked the gods of Time and Space for help finding her, but their answers had been disturbing: the young hero had been deliberately concealed from their sight.
“I can’t explain,” was all she could grit out.
There was no grand return to Jubilife, the supply cart offloading her at the doorstep of Galaxy Hall and Akari being bundled off to the medical ward, disguised by her borrowed clothes. She sat awkwardly on a cot as Pesselle fussed over her, comparing the injury report to her current state, and tried to ignore the whispers and the stares.
It felt like her first day in Jubilife all over again.
“Akari!” Laventon burst into the room and rushed around the privacy screen, oblivious to the way the young woman yelped and Pesselle tugged her patient’s gown closed.
“Professor! Get a hold of yourself!”
“Oh Akari my dear, I'm so glad you’re okay!” he sobbed as he embraced her, and Akari could feel the scab he’d jostled on her shoulder start bleeding again. It was probably staining his white coat.
Pesselle pulled him off with a scowl. “Get out.”
“I missed you too, Professor,” Akari said softly as two nurses ushered him out like a stray Bidoof. Numbly, she realized it was a lie; she had hardly spared a thought for anyone while she’d been… indisposed.
Akari winced, brought back to the present by her now-stained gown being peeled off her reopened wounds. Her doctor tsked, muttering unkindly about Laventon, and Akari felt just the echo of the urge to come to his defence. She realized she didn’t actually care, and didn’t even want to be here. These people felt like strangers again.
Pesselle efficiently dabbed at her scrapes and cuts with something astringent and bandaged her up, commenting that there was no singular major injury but a hundred fresh small ones from venturing through the wilderness unprepared.
Unasked was the question: where were you until yesterday?
She was left to rest on the cot and all Akari felt was… empty. It was like when she’d first arrived in Jubilife Village, except for the throbbing ache in her body where a cock belonged. Why had she felt the need to come back here? Why had she left the one place where she’d been loved and cared for, put her wonderful body through so much pain and stress, to be met with suspicion and passed from one inconvenienced acquaintance to another?
Silently, Volo stepped around the privacy screen and her spiralling thoughts stopped. He smiled down at her, friendly as ever.
“Take me back,” she hissed.
He leaned in with one hand to his ear. “Hmm?”
Akari grabbed him by the backpack straps and hauled him in for a rough kiss. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I don’t belong here, take me back.”
“Anything else you need?”
She found half a potion bottle next to the cot and wrote a sloppy message on the bedsheet with a dipped finger. She drank the rest and clung to Volo, pressing her face to his chest and relaxing into his hold even as the floor beneath them fell away.
All Pesselle found a few minutes later was sheets stained with a message: I CAN’T.