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#but its ok Ingo immediately threw her back into the water
waywardstation · 4 months
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Out There Somewhere
Phione Akari AU
Akari is frustrated that she can't seem to communicate with Ingo, no matter how hard she tries.
I wrote this just to try and figure out Akari's frustration around communication barriers, and Ingo just not having important context in order to help figure it out (and being a little frustrated as well), but being able to sympathize enough to still be comforting through what little is actually understood.
OR read here on AO3!
AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!
Enjoy!
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Ingo set the bucket down on the ground, the water sloshing inside as he moved to set it under the nearby tree. But instead of sitting down against the trunk, he simply squinted against the sliver of sun peeking over the coastlands’ horizon and sighed, walking around it.
At the sound of shoes crunching against dirt, his portable, watery companion housed within said bucket peeked out over the rim to see where he was going.
Ah. Just as suspected, he was stretching again. Leaning against the tree with one arm, he was doing his best to relieve the sore spine that was clearly bothering him. A muffled yet audible crack freed a groan from the warden’s mouth as he pressed the heel of his palm into his lower side and twisted. 
“ Phi,” She flopped halfway over the side to continue watching him; it wouldn’t be bothering him so badly if he took more breaks from all the hiking he’d done today. Or the day before. Or the day before that. 
Ingo’s gaze settled on her as he continued to stretch, but otherwise he said nothing; comparatively, he had not been very responsive to her today. 
To his credit, she had not been very responsive with him lately either though, now frequently reserving any sounds she made and no longer using them conversationally. Ingo never correctly understood them anyways. 
Uncoiling the tight pain in his back as best as he believed he could, Ingo leaned down to pick the bucket back up and head into a patch of tall grass, holding it close to him. 
“Phi,” She squeaked quietly as the water sloshed with the jostling. Looking up, she met eyes with Ingo, who was already looking down at her.
She may have appeared more dejected than she assumed; his gaze wasn’t quite one of annoyance, but it just seemed… unappreciated. Blank? Perhaps jaded. “No need to worry, Passenger. I am still checking trees for any stalking murkrow before I set you down.”
Akari continued to slosh around quietly in time with Ingo’s steps as he resigned back to silence. A look up through the bucket’s top to the darkened purple sky above, and she was able to make out the weak speckles of stars, still somewhat hiding until the sun’s glow retracted its reach entirely. It would be a clear night – at least the coastlands were merciful enough not to pelt them with bad weather two nights in a row.
The sounds of shoes on grass gave way to smoothed dirt, and the top of a tent could be seen out of the bucket’s top. They must have reached one of the base camps.
At least Ingo would allow himself cover and a bed tonight, but she attributed that to his aching back now demanding it too loudly to ignore any longer.
Once again, Akari not-so-gently sloshed with the bucket’s contents as Ingo wearily set it down on top of the camp’s storage chest. She jumped up to grasp onto the edge and peek over the bucket’s side as he passed by.
The camp’s fire pit was unlit, and it seemed it would stay that way. Ingo went about in the darkness, pouring water into one of the camp’s bowls and washing his face with it. His hands lingered over his eyes with each splash, as if trying to massage the exhaustion out. Then he ventured out into the ring of darkness, dumping the water out onto the grass. Setting the bowl back, he gave the cold fire pit a passing glance before returning to the bucket. 
No proper dinner to be cooked, no flames to heat up the water in her bucket the way she liked at night, no heat to warm himself up, and no light to even see where he was going. 
Again.
“Here,” Akari glanced up as Ingo pulled a cheri berry out of his coat pocket and held it out to her. The thing was almost as big as her head.
“Phi,” Akari shook her head sternly and sank under the water. She’d learned a few days ago he’d keep offering and urging otherwise, and he needed that fruit more than her. She wasn’t hungry anyways. At least she didn’t think so. This strange body was so confusing. Maybe she was filter feeding and didn’t even realize it…
From under the sloshing skylight of water, Akari saw Ingo’s shoulders slump with an exasperated sigh before popping the berry in his mouth and turning away. 
The callous, self-directed frustration gave way to a hint of regret for a moment. She didn’t like seeing him like that. And she definitely didn’t like that she was contributing to it. But she was so nauseatingly, disgustingly sick of trying to communicate at this point when it never got anywhere.
The bucket sloshed around once again as Ingo picked it up and pulled back the canvas flap to carry it into the deeper darkness of the tent with him.
Setting the bucket in the corner and letting himself fall back into the tent with a not-so-quiet grunt, Ingo began to shrug off his coat, removing it with relative care. Folding it and setting it aside next to the tent’s provided pillow, Ingo topped it off by placing his hat down on it.
Aching legs pulled in as shaking hands ran through matted hair and tired eyes regarded the bucket in the corner briefly. Moving carefully on his poor back so as not to irritate it further, Ingo curled onto his side, puffing up before letting out one big, final sigh into the dark. 
“Goodnight, Passenger.” 
Fabric sheets ruffled briefly in the darkness as he made himself more comfortable, but then he was still, and the subtle night ambience replaced it. 
From the side of the lonely bucket, which Ingo had set down as far away from him as she felt he could, Akari regarded him with something not unlike pity before slipping back under the water. She sank to the bottom of the bucket, watching the bubbles that clung to her gradually let go and wander towards the surface.
Ingo was going to go to sleep upset tonight. And she was going to as well.
Why had things come to this?
She didn’t even know what had happened. The only things her memory had retained was uncovering what she assumed to be Manaphy within the dark, damp depths of a half-flooded cavern, then she had found herself adrift near the coastlands’ shore, like this.  
What had happened to her body? Her Pokémon? Her everything? If Manaphy had changed her, would she ever be able to revert her back to her human self? What if she couldn’t even find Manaphy again?
From the start, it had always been strange and uncomfortable and scary being like this. But whenever she stopped to really think about it and mull things over, she hated it. 
She hated being so small and fragile. She couldn’t walk, only crawl with flat, fingerless flippers that couldn’t grasp anything without significant focus. Her voice had left her and functional commutation of any kind was largely stripped with both people and Pokémon. No one recognized her. She didn’t understand anything about this body that seemed to be as structurally sound as a water balloon. And she couldn’t even protect herself, unable to figure out how to utilize any Pokémon moves. 
So many horrible, easy ways this could end terribly. What if she could never find Manaphy? Or what if Manaphy couldn’t change her back? What if she was stuck like this, forever isolated from her friends and family and pathetically clinging to someone who thought she was dead, and only kept her around out of pity and misunderstanding?
The gripping loneliness of the bucket shoved aside into the back corner clamped down much deeper without warning. She was so far away from Ingo. Why had the bucket been crammed so far away? Suddenly, Akari felt like she couldn’t get any air. She needed out of this bucket.
No, she couldn’t take this isolation. She couldn’t move this bucket, but Ingo could. Just a little closer to him. That’s all she wanted.
She hated the idea of trying any more right now, but she’d try just one more time to communicate with him.
–––––
…Sleep was not coming easily to Ingo, but he was still trying his best. He’d need to get up early tomorrow, after all. 
Lying on his side, a sound blipped in the background of hazy exhaustion that was already beginning to shut down his senses. Weary eyes opened halfway before his mind processed that the sound was a splash from back in the corner of the tent. 
A delay to process, and Ingo jolted out of the hazy murk into sitting upright — how long had he been drifting? Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? Half an hour? Something wild had surely stuck its head in through the tent flap for a drink from the bucket and had snatched Passenger — but a familiar squeak and a cold sensation near his foot alerted him that they were still here. 
A glance down in the dark, and Ingo could make out that the small Pokémon was grasping onto the end of his pant leg, sprawled across his ankle as if bracing for more sudden movements.
“Oh- oh Passenger,” Ingo smoothed down and reached for her, letting her flop onto his outstretched hand. “I apologize, I thought that something had… never mind, is something wrong?”
No squeaks. Just cold, wet flippers wrapped around his thumb for support as she slouched in his hand.
“Did you want that cheri berry after all? I’m sorry, I don’t… have it anymore.” An awkward guess as to what she wanted after a stretch of silence. Just another misunderstanding. Akari shook her head no, and pointed to the bucket.
Please bring it a little closer.
“Your bucket has sufficient water? I checked.” 
Another incorrect guess, another head shake.
“Did you, perhaps… want to stay in here again tonight?” Ingo plucked his cap up and held it up for her. “You can if you’d like.”
Not quite. Akari shook her head no and pointed at him with a flipper. “Phi,”
“Me?” Ingo pointed at his chest.
“Phi!” A head shake yes, another annoyingly repetitive motion of pointing a flipper at him, then back at the bucket.
“You want me… to..?” Ingo’s sentence died off. He didn’t understand, and was starting to sound like he was losing his grip on the agency of the situation.
“Phi phi!” Another desperate, pointed jab at the bucket, then back at him. A moving motion with her useless, unhelpful, and entirely unindicative flippers.
Please just bring it closer to you. That’s all I want.
A simple request that would have normally taken not longer than eight words and three seconds between them. Can you please move the bucket over here? Actually no, a request that wouldn’t have even needed to exist, because Akari would have simply picked up the bucket herself if she could have.
Regardless, it was all unintelligible, tangled static now. A basic request, now an impossible cipher.
“Oh, I forgot, didn’t I? I apologize.”
Akari looked up at Ingo, hopeful as he got up on a knee, carefully still cupping her in his hands and moving back towards the bucket. Did he finally get it?
“I know I forgot to heat the water the way you like at night. I just… I do not have the steam to start and manage a fire, simply to warm up some water tonight. Please understand.”
Ingo yawned as he placed her back into the bucket. He looked so exhausted. His hands came out dripping, leaving a tiny, insignificant, heartbroken Akari alone to drift in the container once again.
Another attempt to communicate had fizzled out tremendously. She wanted to cry.
A part of her had not wanted to try her hardest to communicate with Ingo. Because if she tried her hardest and it still wasn’t enough, all that would do is prove the terrifying hypothetical that there was no hope of ever replicating any connection or relationship the way it used to be again.
Well, it appeared that had been proven.
“I apologize, but please, endure it until morning.” Ingo covered his mouth as he yawned again. Returning back to the tent’s bed, he then slumped back down and began making himself comfortable on his side again. “I promise when I wake up tomorrow I will do so, but for now, I need sleep. Please.”
Closing his eyes, it only took a few moments before he once again heard a splash, and subsequent wet movements drawing near to his side, which culminated in a damp flipper bapping his hand.
“Passenger.” Ingo rolled onto his back. He was actively moving away from her now. “Not tonight. Please.”
“Phi!” Akari wailed. She didn’t even care about the bucket anymore. She’d rather just stay next to him on his pillow. She didn’t care if she woke up all dried out. It was better than being alone with her thoughts in that confined container, pushed aside in the dark corner.
“It’s on tomorrow’s schedule.”
And with that, Ingo turned onto his other side, his back to her. He was done with this.
He’d never understand. 
Blurry eyes stared back at the new, tall barrier that was Ingo’s back. Akari sat slumped amongst the sheets in grief before dragging herself onto the pillow and over to Ingo. She leaned against him, inconspicuously blinking back a couple sad, frustrated, tired tears.
Nothing worked when she tried to get through to him. She understood him and everyone else as clearly as before, but could no longer speak human dialect with these limited, foreign vocal cords (if that’s what she even had anymore). And understanding or communicating with other Pokémon was useless when the knowledge of the language obviously didn’t come with the body.
Over these last six days, all her efforts had done was convince Ingo that she was a clingy wild Pokémon that couldn’t stand to be separated from him, but was also perpetually upset at him. And she could see with time it had made him start to close himself off to her.
Was she frustrated? With the situation, absolutely. Upset? Of course. But at Ingo? No. 
It was just hard to do anything when one was stripped of their voice, their legs, their hands, most of their structural systems, and over ninety percent of their body mass. And as upset as she was that it seemed Ingo would never understand, she couldn’t expect him to independently entertain the thought that she was this little phione. People just did not turn into Pokémon. That did not happen. 
…Well, except for in this one case maybe. But it didn’t happen enough for people to just realistically wonder if someone turned into a Pokémon when they went missing. That was so silly.
It just did not happen.
So of course Ingo would never realize, unless she somehow found a method to express it to him in a way he could understand.
But for now, it seemed that all that had done was make him annoyed with her.
A frustrated tear finally slipped out, and Akari’s flipper collected it as she wiped it away. With a whimper, another tear followed. She sniffed.
The darkness let her cry for only a few moments before her support shifted under her. Akari did her best to stop the tears and looked up to see Ingo glancing back over his shoulder at her.
Just one grey eye, loose and clouded with exhaustion, but now observing her with the novel extent of commiseration.
“Oh,” Ingo breathed. He sounded hesitant now. “Oh- dear.” 
He shifted again, now turning on his side to face towards Akari, but she simply curled forward into her flippers — it only made her feel scrutinized right now.
“…Passenger, it was not about warming the water, was it?”
Maybe it was the careful tone that had replaced all his previous, built-up annoyance, or his concerned look. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was trying to listen to her and understand again. Whatever it was, that sentence opened everything up. Akari sobbed and flopped forward into his front, soaking all over the fabric of his tunic.
“I’m- I apologize,” One of Ingo’s hands cupped around near her, but he did not touch her, perhaps careful to still give her space. “It was… not my explicit intent to make you upset.” He didn’t even sound like he believed himself when he said it. “I believe I’ve overlooked something, haven’t I?”
He had, in a massive way, yes. But if Akari couldn’t get him to understand when she simply wanted a bucket moved, how could she possibly explain her frustrations to him? So she shook her head no despite her feelings, but the continued tears and the clinging contradicted her.
Things went on like that for a while. Ingo did not know what was wrong, and Akari didn’t even attempt to tell him as she was tired of trying. So she was grateful he didn’t push and just let her cry. But eventually her shelter, Ingo’s tear-stained tunic, pulled away as the warden shifted back over onto his back. He brought her with him, letting her rest in his hands as an offer of continued consolation and comfort.
“...I remember what the professor said in his office the other day about, you know… you.” Ingo spoke quietly up at the tent’s ceiling. “About how his many coastal observations suggested you are a very, ah, group oriented species. How you consist of large families that drift with each other from one destination to the next. Always together.”
Akari remembered Laventon saying that as well. Much more verbose and detailed of course, but that summed it up well. She made a quiet sound of acknowledgement and shuffled in his fingers to curl up near his shoulder, and Ingo moved his now-empty hands to clasp them loosely over his belly instead.
“I understand from what the professor surmised about what happened to you, that you miss your group very much.” Ingo continued. “And separation is all the more difficult when one feels lost.”
That came from a very personal place. He did not bring light to it (and why would he with what he assumed to be a Pokémon who still did not know him well?), but Akari knew he was pulling from the clingy, frantic behavior she found herself apt to express whenever separation from him seemed imminent. Had he felt like that when he first fell to Hisui?
“And you’ve felt very lost today haven’t you, Passenger?”
Tears welled up again as Akari nodded. Again, not in the way Ingo had meant, but it still hit the target right in the center. “Phi.”
“I understand the feeling.” Ingo lingered on the sentence for a moment. “Which is why I want to apologize if I have seemed quite distant or distracted today, or yesterday, and contributed to that. I did not intend to neglect you, and lead you to feel even more alone or lost than you already do. I truly did not mean for that. I am just-” 
Hands still clasped, Ingo began tapping his thumbs together.
“I am sure you are well aware that I am looking for a lost friend of mine as well. I am worried about her too.”
Akari stayed quiet, waiting to see if he’d say anything more. Ingo had rarely ever brought her up with, well, herself , throughout this entire situation, and why would he? Why would he share his stressors with what he probably currently believed to be the equivalent of a frustrated blue pop pod? 
But he was talking about her now. Maybe he was using her relative silence as a catalyst for a self-sorting introspection, because the conversation was certainly going one way with no indication that responses were expected. 
But Akari did not mind.
“She is formidable against many, many challenges, but the more time goes by with her absence, the more I fear that something has happened that cannot be taken back.” Ingo’s words slowed down now, carefully thought over and treading with trepidation. “I wonder if she is alright or not. And I also wonder if she is still here. Either in the ah, expected sense of the word, or if… perhaps she received a ticket back home, and I was not there to join her, or bid her goodbye when her line departed.”
Now that was new information to Akari. She had no idea that all of this time, Ingo had been considering the horrific possibility that she had perhaps left Hisui to go back to her own time. He had never once verbalized anything like that over this entire time.
She would never. Never. She’d never even let him say goodbye in a scenario like that, because she would never ever leave without him if she got a chance like that. She’d grab his arm and pull him along with her and fight anything that would have tried to stop her from doing it. And if she would ever be taken suddenly without a choice, she’d fight her way back to grab Ingo and make sure he’d be included. Somehow, she’d find a way.
The thought that he was worrying over something like that, and had been doing so for so long broke her heart. 
“But, I also believe that unfortunately I’ve allowed these concerns to outgrow me and derail my priorities. I’ve been trying very hard to find her again, just as I’m sure your group is trying to find you. Though while searching for her, I’m afraid I’ve left you in the dark, and I apologize for that. I am conducting you, after all; I should not be leaving passengers unattended when they require assistance.”
Ingo stopped tapping his thumbs together. Akari rose and fell with Ingo’s chest as he took a deep, distressed breath and let the anxiety out through his nose.
“Tomorrow will not be like today. In the morning, I plan to traverse the cliff sides near the water. I’ll be searching for my own, but I’d like you to know I will be just as diligent with keeping an eye out for any members of your group who may be looking for you along the surf.”
“Phi,” Akari muttered, hoping he took that as a ‘thank you’, or a ‘I’m sorry too’, or even just a simple acknowledgement of the vulnerable moment. She appreciated the sentiment, despite his offer basically being useless to her.
“You know, I believe she would take a liking to you if you were to meet her. I’d like you to, if possible. I also think you’d probably get along with her much better than you do with me.” Ingo continued after another long stretch of silence. He seemed to be trying to relax himself now; fabric shifted in the dark hopefully for the last time. “In some ways, you remind me of her very much.”
Two days ago, or maybe even yesterday, she would have spit a stream of water at him, or smacked him with her useless flipper for saying something that would be so retrospectively obvious. 
But he was so exhausted. And so was she. And it, along with any other form of indication she had tried, never got the intended message across. It would have only ruined the nice moment they had managed to dredge up in all of this stress.
So instead, Akari simply flopped over and settled herself into Ingo’s shoulder, clasping onto it securely. It would be a rather loud place when he would inevitably start snoring, but the hood of his tunic was warm, and the proximity was comforting at the moment – much better than all the isolating nights she had spent in that dark bucket.
It must have surprised Ingo, as fabric rustled once again as he turned to look at her as best he could.
“You are stationing yourself there? I am afraid that you will be dried out by sunrise if you stay there.” He warned. “What about your bucket?”
“Phi,” Akari shook her head no, wiggling further into his hood to emphasize she was staying there. She didn’t care. The coastlands were cool enough at night to keep it from becoming too unbearable anyways.
“Alright.” Ingo closed his eyes, and let his muscles finally slack as he settled into the bed. “Goodnight, Passenger. Thank you for listening.”
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