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soulsilversprings · 6 days

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hii u rb'd the short angst prompt list like. a year ago I'm sorry.... but If I would request something: "can't sleep?" prompt with ash and kukui !

"can't sleep?" wc: 1 861 read on ao3 here

Alolan nights are humid.

Even with the window closed, the cool, damp ocean breeze finds its way into Professor Kukui’s house, almost as if it were itself a fixture of the environment, as impressed upon by the force of the tides as the mounds of sand children shape into figures of various Pokémon on the beach. Late at night, Ash can hear the wind winding around the house, embracing it in that sharp, salty tang. Beneath that, the sound of the waves lapping up against the land attempts to make itself known to him, a constant reminder that even if he is within the walls of a house again, he is terribly, terribly far from home.

But the humidity is the worst. He’ll adjust—he always does—but for now he can’t help missing the crisp outdoor air of central Kalos. The climate here reminds him most of Hoenn, with its expansive oceans and scorching deserts. Most nights found the temperature dropping into a comfortable chill, but in the grips of summer on the coast, they often were stiflingly warm instead. May always complained about how it affected her hair the next morning; Ash found falling asleep the worst part, though. Those nights never felt particularly restful.

Which is kind of the whole problem now, he supposes.

If there were any comfortable, non-sweat-soaked position to put himself in, he would just close his eyes and hope for the best. It’s not like he can sleep in tomorrow, after all; he has school, and he’d hate to be the reason the professor was late, too.

So, he figures it’s probably easier to just find something that will keep him awake now and hope he doesn’t burn out too early in the day. He feels some guilt about rousing Pikachu when he finally rises and descends from the loft to the kitchen, but it is short-lived as he takes stock of his surroundings and realizes just how…cramped it feels. The way Pikachu heads straight for the door tells him he isn’t the only one who thinks so.

Outside is cooler, to his surprise. The salty tang of the sea breeze wraps around him unhindered by the foundations of the house, and he breathes it in, deeply, feeling his shoulders begin to slump already.

Carefully, he closes the door behind him and settles down on the porch, staring out towards the beach while Pikachu settles on his lap, apparently content now to go back to sleep. Without the walls to diminish the sound, the gentle crash of the waves becomes the night’s cacophonous rhythm.

And for a long time, he just sits and soaks it in. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine he is back in the Orange Islands with Tracey and Misty and Lapras, or maybe at the helm of the ship that toured him, Iris, and Cilan around the Decolore Islands.

Before he can follow the memory to the desire that sits half-mangled beneath his heart, the click of the door opening behind him has his eyes flying open again. He cranes his neck in order to watch Kukui step out on to the porch, all too aware of Pikachu’s slumbering form in his lap.

The professor lowers himself down on the step beside Ash, very quiet. The waves splash up to the beach, then recede, then splash up again, and he finally asks, “Can’t sleep?”

Ash shrugs noncommittally, not able to meet his eyes.

“If you’re not comfortable in the loft—”

“I’m fine,” Ash says quickly, before he can suggest anything awkward or embarrassing. “You’ve done lots already, Professor. Don’t worry about it.”

Splash. Recede. Repeat.

“There’s no shame in feeling homesick, you know.”

Ash blinks, startled. Finally, he chances a glance at the professor, whose gaze is thankfully glued to the darkened horizon ahead of them.

“I don’t really get homesick,” he says, and it’s the truth, too; he misses his mom sometimes, sure, but home is not tied to any particular place anymore. He has been all over the world. He could find comfort in any corner of it.

Even here, now—sure, he’s having a hard time sleeping, but during the day, he’s having all kinds of fun adventures with new friends, and even attending school is something to look forward to, as long as he isn’t given homework at the end of it.

He thinks to tell Kukui as much, but the words fade fast when he catches the troubled look on the man’s face. Perhaps he notices Ash’s attention on him, because he turns to face him at last, a small frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I know you don’t really know me, but if something isn’t working, I’ll help ya out. Promise.”

Ash opens his mouth to reassure him that everything is fine, but stops as he notices the words catching uncomfortably in his throat. Quickly, he looks away and clears his throat. Says, in any direction but Kukui’s, “I’m just tryna get used to it.”

“Alola?”

“Yeah. It’s…warm.”

A pause, and then Kukui chuckles, though it is short, surprised-sounding. “I guess it is pretty different from Kanto, huh? Our Sunny Day is a little more intense.”

“I was just thinkin’ it reminds me of Hoenn.”

“Sure, I can see that. Didn’t know you’d travelled that far.”

Ash shrugs. “It’s closer than Unova. Or Kalos.”

Kukui seems to chew on that for a moment. Then he asks, “Where else have you been?”

Absently, Ash strokes Pikachu’s fur. He keeps his eyes on the waves sparkling beneath the moonlight, but he doesn’t really see them. “I toured Kanto twice. Once for the League and once for the Battle Frontier.”

“Wow, the Battle Frontier, too, huh? How’d that go?”

“It was hard,” he admits. “It took us a few tries to beat all the Frontier Brains, but we were better for it, in the end. I mean, I learned a lot. Scott—he’s the guy who runs the Battle Frontier—he offered me a position as a Frontier Brain, but I wanted to keep journeying, so I said no.”

Kukui whistles appreciatively. “That’s pretty impressive, Ash. So, I’m guessing you competed in the Hoenn League, too?”

“Yeah, and the Johto League. After the Battle Frontier, I went to Sinnoh and entered the League there… Got really close to the end, too, but I think that was kinda where I realized that there’d always be other trainers who’re better than me.” His hand comes to rest over Pikachu’s back as his shoulders begin to tense. “I used to think that I had to beat ‘em all, but now I think there’s a lot I can learn just from getting to face off against strong trainers like that. I almost won in the Kalos League, but when the battle was over, I couldn’t really stay upset for long, ‘cause it was a great battle. It just meant I’d get better and try harder for the next one. And now I’m here.”

“Alola doesn’t have a League, though,” Kukui points out. “So, what made you wanna stay?”

Ash shakes his head. “It’s not about the battles, Professor. It’s about who you’re battling with. There’s so many cool Pokémon here, and everyone’s so nice, too… It’s different, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“Then, whaddya think it is that’s keeping you up?”

He stares out at the beach. With some effort, he forces his muscles to relax again. The scent of the sea brings back a tide of memories—good, bad, and everything in between. His victories in the Orange League, Legendary and Mythical Pokémon and the terrible people that sought to control them, swimming with his friends, fishing with Misty, with Cilan… He has found a home in every corner of the world.

But it’s never been about where he is.

Finally, he confesses, “It’s been a long time since I’ve lived somewhere.”

Silence is his only response. He ducks his head, wishing he had had the forethought to grab his hat. It’s not something he’s really been thinking about, but now that the words have left his mouth, he knows it is the truth. Nobody has had to take care of him since the first time he left home. These days, even his calls with his mom are sparing things. His returns have shortened from weeks to days. He is sprung into each new departure by an itching restlessness, the sense of being cooped up.

He sucks in a deep breath to steel himself, then looks over at the professor. Immediately, his concern is washed out by surprise at the understanding expression on his face.

“Kinda the opposite of homesickness, then,” Kukui says. “Is that right?”

Under Ash’s hand, Pikachu stirs. He lifts his head and looks sleepily between Ash and the Professor, then lets out a small sigh and settles back down to sleep. Ash scratches behind his ears, a small smile coming to him at last.

“It’s just weird,” he says. “Me and Pikachu have been on the road for so long. We’ll get used to it, but…”

“But for now, you’re feeling a bit Imprisoned?” Kukui suggests.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, tell ya what… How about me, you, and Pikachu go out on a little island adventure on the weekend? There’s some pretty great spots to camp out at on Melemele.”

Ash starts, jostling Pikachu, who cracks open one eye in alarm. He quickly pats his head in reassurance, then says to the professor, “Really? That sounds great!”

Kukui grins, reaching a hand out. Ash thinks he is going to ruffle his hair, but then he seems to think better of it and sets it awkwardly on his shoulder instead. It is heavy and warm and present, in a way that brings a smile to Ash’s face, too.

“We’ll make a plan tomorrow,” the professor promises, and all too soon that hand is being pulled away as he leans back and begins to rise. “For now, let’s try to get a Rest in before school, hey?”

It’s not quite as humid outside as it had felt up in the loft. Ash doesn’t know if the cool cadence of the wind will follow him into the house.

But then Kukui offers that hand down to him, and he supposes he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. And since when has he been afraid to try something new?

He carefully lifts Pikachu up against his chest with one hand, then lifts the other to accept Kukui’s help. Once Kukui has ushered him back inside, he turns around and starts to say, “Thanks for—”

“Don’t worry about it,” the professor tells him, quickly. “Sleep well, Ash. I’ll see ya in the Morning Sun.”

Ash blinks, surprised, then thinks again of the awkward movement of his hand outside, those long, uncertain silences. At once, the walls of the house do not seem so oppressive anymore.

He smiles. Just as quickly, the tension seems to drain out of Kukui’s posture.

“Night, Professor,” he says, and that is that.

In only a matter of minutes after he and Pikachu have settled down in the loft again, they are both comfortably asleep.

#YALL READ THIS #it's so precious #fic rec

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