Chapter Text
Lights flash across the street in front of him as large, rumbling vehicles charge through the pouring rain. He can almost feel the echo of their engines in his chest — so close to the ever-present rumbling in the back of his mind, yet so far that it remains a memory beyond Ingo's reach. Their tires scratch against the pavement as they go and splash through puddles building in the dips of the road, the combined sound somehow loud enough to keep him from spiraling into the void in his mind.
It's so quiet where he is. On this street in a jungle of metal and glass. Only the sound of the cars and the heavy rain pattering against the clear roof above the bench he's sitting on break it. And he's oh so grateful for that… without it — that symphony of sounds so close to his heart — he's not sure where his mind may wander.
But then again, does it really matter if he lets himself get lost in his thoughts?
This world, though it soothes the festering ache in his chest that he could never quite rid himself of in Hisui, is foreign to him now. He's been wandering aimlessly through the streets of this city for hours since Arceus sent him through a rift to his 'home station', flashes of misty memories and old recollections blooming in his head. It's been blissful, really. Being able to recognize shops he'd pass on the streets and remember the names of objects he would see around… but all of those memories and the joy he felt in not being quite as lost as he's been for years had to come to an end eventually.
And it has now. For all Ingo could remember about little things like names and what restaurants he enjoyed eating at, he quickly found himself lacking the knowledge he's been longing to know all these years; the answers to every question that has plagued his sleepless nights and his idle mind. Even now in his rightful space, Ingo is still lost. He has no answers for where exactly his home is, or where he might find the elusive ghost in white that lives in his head. Everything else about this world and all the small memories he has of his life here are secondary to those questions…
Because, more than anything else, Ingo wants to be home home.
He wants to be with the family he faintly recalls. The family that shows up as nothing more than foggy splotches of color in every memory he regains. He wants to know their faces and taste their names as he did before he found himself alone in the Icelands. Ingo wants the pieces of his heart he knows are in this vast world somewhere.
He just… doesn't know where to find them.
That is perhaps the most upsetting thing about this whole ordeal. The one thing Ingo really wants remains as out of reach as it always has. Nothing he remembers is helping him piece together a route he can take and Arceus had advised against drawing attention to himself by talking to strangers — they even went so far as to cast some kind of charm on him to hide him from the eyes of passersby until he found his 'people'. With both of these factors working against him, Ingo is all but screwed!
So, that is why he's found himself sitting alone at this bus stop. With nowhere to go and no ideas for how he's supposed to fix that. He feels rather defeated now as he sits under the cover of the bus stop roof, unable to leave without getting wet. In a sense, Ingo is stuck on this bench in many ways… how ironic.
And depressing too to think that this journey — the ticket home he's been searching for since waking up in Hisui — has lead him to yet another dead end. It's like somehow the hands of fate never have his best interest in mind and he'll always end up lost no matter what! Even after how hard he fought just to see the city he once called home… this isn't fair in the slightest, but what choice does he have? What can he really do against the will of the gods but deal with the consequences of them fucking up his life however they please!
Ingo just wants to go home, but clearly that is far too much to ask for!
He plants his elbows against his knees and buries his face in his hands. Why can't anything go the way he wants it to? Why must he be stuck running in circles, chasing after something he barely even remembers? Why must this universe keep dangling the one thing he wants above all else in his face? Ingo may just tear his hair out. Or rip up the precious black coat still draped over his shoulders. Or perhaps he'll stand up and scream into the sky so loud that not even Arceus can’t ignore him! None of that would fix his problems, but by Palkia would it ease some of the bitterness that has been building in his chest!
He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, swallowing down the scream he wants nothing more than to let out. Ingo won't let himself go that far no matter how badly he wants to… because it's not fair for him to feel this way, is it? Even though Arceus has not put him exactly where he wants to be, Ingo is still back in his home space. He's still in the city he recognizes in the right time. That was what Arceus had promised him and nothing more — the rest is up to him. He's only upset because he's been walking for hours and his feet hurt and he's tired and cold and, and, and!
There's a seemingly never-ending list of things that are currently bothering him. But those things are hardly something the Creator of this world would care to deal with. Nor should it have to handle minor human issues when it has a whole reality to uphold.
Still… Ingo thinks he's at least somewhat entitled to his own feelings on this whole ordeal. He's sure Arceus would allow him his personal blasphemy after everything that happened to him. It's only fair, after all.
Something is moving beside him. The sound of fabric rustling snaps Ingo right out of his thoughts as someone sits down on the bench to his right. Ingo is almost surprised that someone would join him, but then again he's not sure why he's surprised. This is a public bus stop. It's not like there are any rules against sitting down when there's already someone sitting on the bench. Plus, it's raining heavily right now and this stranger shouldn't have to weather the downpour just because Ingo is having trouble with his emotions.
Still, now that there is someone else here, Ingo feels obligated to at least attempt to pull himself together. Breaking down with a stranger nearby is never a fun experience.
So, Ingo drags in a deep breath and rubs his face, then he sits up. He keeps his eyes adverted from the form beside him, though Ingo can still vaguely make them out through his peripheral vision. They appear to be around the same height as Ingo is, if not the exact same, and they're wearing a bright green raincoat. Ingo can also tell that their hair is soaking wet and sticking to their face… did this person just run through the rain without their hood up? What's the point of even wearing a raincoat to not use the hood?
'I like having rain in my hair, yup! It's verrry nice when it's hot outside. Keeps me cool!'
The sudden voice in his head makes Ingo jolt. It's one he's heard before many, many times… but it's also a voice he hasn't heard in years. That familiar monotone… Ingo knows that voice, he just can't put a face or a name to it. Which is equally as frustrating as it is distressing. That voice belongs to the man in white, he's certain! And if he could just pull more details from his fragmented memory, maybe he'd have an easier time finding that man! But-
"Are you okay?" Comes a monotone voice from his right. Even in the flatness of that tone, Ingo can hear the underlying concern in it. That voice… it's the very same one he'd just heard in his head.
His head snaps to the side so fast he gives himself whiplash, but he fights through the swirling in his vision to stare at the man beside him. And it's like looking in a mirror. He looks just like Ingo; silver eyes, messy gray hair, a matching patch of facial hair… and a smile like the one that has been haunting his dreams every single night. It's tighter than the carefree, gleeful smile he's used to seeing in his imagination but perhaps that makes it feel more real to Ingo. His mouth opens and closes as he searches for something to say to the man he's missed more than anything… but he can't get a single word out.
The man doesn't seem to be doing much better than him. He's staring back at Ingo, mouth still hanging open as if to ask another question and eyes slowly widening as he processes what he's seeing. He stays like that for a long time before his mouth clicks shut and he blinks a couple times. Then, he drags in a deep breath and manages to force something out. "… what the fuck?" An incredulous, anxious laugh bubbles out of him as tears start to form in his eyes. "Oh by the dragons… what the fuck? What the fuck!" He starts to repeat those words over and over again, the tears forming faster with every passing moment.
Ingo can barely hear him over the pounding in his head as more information clicks into place all at once. This man is… his brother. His twin brother! Right, right… and his name. His name is… is… "Emmet!" His hands shoot out to grab his brother's shoulders. Ingo's vision is starting to get blurry as he stares at is twin's face, but he doesn't pay that any mind right now. "Emmet I- you-… this is crazy! I didn't- you're here! You found me!" Ingo isn't sure what else to say. There's so many things he should say — so many things he has to tell Emmet. None of those words can get past his tongue right now. But it doesn't matter in the slightest when Emmet bursts into tears and practically leaps across the bench at Ingo.
The force of the hug sends both of them toppling over the edge of the bench and onto the wet ground, but Ingo can't find it within himself to care. He just grabs his twin right back and buries his face into the soaked fabric of Emmet's raincoat. "You found me! You found me!"
Emmet wails into his chest, hands gripping his coat so hard that Ingo is afraid it's going to tear. Still, he doesn't dare try to put any amount of distance between himself and his brother. Not after all these years of missing him. Emmet sobs and sniffles, unable to really get proper words out. The most Ingo can hear over the rush of rain hitting him in the face is broken pieces of words. "You… y- home! Back!" Still, Ingo understands what Emmet is getting at just fine.
"Yes, I'm home! I'm back! And I'm so sorry! I have so much to tell you- so many things you have to know!" Ingo knows some of those things will be harder than others to talk about, but damn it he's going to get through all of it even if it's the last thing he ever does! Emmet needs to know everything and he's sure his twin won't accept anything less than that either. He can feel Emmet nodding against his chest, hands somehow clinging to him tighter.
"Mm-hmm! Everything!" Emmet lifts his head, squinting down at Ingo as the rain pours over both of them. He stares for a moment before head butting Ingo. "Iii- missed! Iiiii missed you!" Emmet forces out through his stutter.
"I missed you too!"
BEEEEEEEP
Both Ingo and Emmet nearly jump out of their skin at the sudden horn honking at them. Ingo glances to their left, finding the massive form of a city bus sitting on the road in front of them. The bus driver is leaning out towards the door, giving them a look that screams 'hurry up'! She honks the horn again, which seems to snap Emmet into action. "Ssshit! We're gonna mmmiss the busss!"
Fuck! They need that bus to get back to their apartment if they don't want to walk the whole way back through the rain! Ingo sits up, then pushes himself up to his feet. He's quick to turn and offer his brother a hand, which he takes easily. Then Ingo is hoisting Emmet up to his feet too and dragging him towards the open door of the bus. His brother is content to follow after him as they walk up the stairs and into the brightly lit vehicle. Though when they get to the top of the stairs, Ingo freezes.
He can feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment as he turns towards Emmet. "I, uh… I don't have…"
"Oh!" Emmet reaches into his pocket, fishing out a couple dollars to pay the driver. She takes the cash and then motions for the two of them to sit down. Ingo doesn't need to be told twice. He turns and starts down the aisle, never letting go of Emmet's hand for even a second. Which might be rather childish, but his brother doesn't seem to mind, so Ingo doesn't feel obligated to let go of him. He probably won't for a good long while now and he's sure Emmet feels the same.
Ingo walks down to the third row of seats before he stops and slides into the one on the left side of the bus. Emmet slips in after him and they both settle into the seat together as the bus doors close. Then it takes off from the side of the road and out into traffic. Ingo finds himself staring out the window to watch all the cars move out of the way for the bus to go.
"Ingo?" Emmet says after a moment. His voice draws Ingo's attention away from the window, eyebrows raising as he turns towards his twin. Emmet's eyes are focused on where his hand is clasped in Ingo's. His squeeze tightens. "We have a lot to talk about, yup."
Ingo nods, squeezing back. "I know. And believe me it will be a long story! I have so much to tell you and… a lot I must explain to you as well."
A wry smile spreads across Emmet's face as he sighs. "I'll be sure to make popcorn then." That gets a laugh out of Ingo, though it doesn't last very long. He can feel the weight of his exhaustion starting to hit him now after all of the adrenaline he'd just gotten — Ingo is going to need a long rest before he can break down every detail about the past four years. He opens his mouth to say as much, but apparently, Emmet has already read his mind. "But that can wait until the morning… I am verrry tired. I'm sure you are too. We should sleep when we get back home, yup."
Ingo can feel the corners of his mouth quirking up as he leans against Emmet's shoulder. "I like that idea."
Today has been an incredibly wild day, but at last Ingo can allow himself to relax… finally, he's home safe.
Finally, Ingo can breathe again.