You and Emmet didn’t speak for the rest of the day. Partially because he spent most of the day in his room, as usual, and you didn’t go there anymore. And partially because… Well, you had to admit to yourself – you were avoiding him. You had too many mixed feelings about what happened, and none of those feelings were positive. You didn’t want to address any of them yet, since you weren’t really prepared to. So, you opted to avoiding for now, as it was the easiest option. Not that it was hard, as Emmet wasn’t really trying to seek you out either.
All this running away and avoiding didn’t spare you from the anxiety at the end of the day though. When you realized it was time to go to sleep at last, you realized that no matter what would happen tonight, you would be upset either way. Either Emmet shows up at your door to sleep with you, and you would either end up having to awkwardly talk about what happened, or spend the rest of the night together in a tense silence. Or, Emmet doesn’t show up for the night at all and sleeps in his own room. That would leave you to sleep alone. For the first time in years. It’s one thing to fall asleep and wake up alone, and another when you know you’ve been alone the whole night…
As you prepared for bed, you dreaded what would happen next. You weren’t even sure which scenario you were scared of more. Both possibilities scared you. Which meant that no matter what happened that night, you would be suffering. Which meant that it didn’t matter that much what exactly happened that night, since the end result would be the same.
As much as you wished you could stop time, you couldn’t. So, soon enough, you had to finally head to bed. You were unable to fall asleep for a long while, because of the heaviness in your heart, and because of the uncertainty, of whether Emmet would come tonight or not. Was it hope or fear you felt, you couldn’t say. But, maybe, subconsciously, you were trying to stay up for as long as possible, to see the moment Emmet comes into the room. Even if you knew that if he did, you would just end up pretending to be asleep.
You didn’t notice when you slipped into unconsciousness. You also didn’t wake up once that night, not from Emmet slipping silently into the bed with you, not from anything else. When you woke up in the morning to the alarm, you woke up to an empty bed once again. Which wasn’t something surprising at that point, albeit still upsetting, but it was the state of your bed that made your chest sting. It looked like, beside you, no one slept in it that night.
The emptiness of the apartment wasn’t any less unsurprising or painful anymore either.
Things after that day went into a pattern you’ve been in before already, yet hoped you’d never return to. You and Emmet stopped talking to eachother much, again. You didn’t feel like you could talk with him… again. Every time the two of you would be in a room together, it would feel incredibly awkward, and the crushing anxiety made you want to flee each time you were in that situation. You stopped visiting him at work, since he kept pretty much ignoring you for the most part anyway. And the anxiety of it all, as well as from realizing that Emmet was probably right about the police not even really looking for Ingo anymore, brought you back into the constantly sad and stressed state you were in back when Ingo just disappeared. Except, it all somehow felt even worse and even more hopeless now than before.
You sighed heavily and lowered your head, burying it into your hands and putting your elbows onto your desk. You just finished another batch of paper Ho-Ohs, and they were resting neatly on the wooden surface, all white and nicely folded, almost perfect. After folding so many, you’ve gotten the algorithm down to near perfection, so almost all the birds you made now looked like you were a professional origami folder… If someone like that even existed. If they did, you would have definitely qualified to be one at that point.
And yet, you just couldn’t feel any joy from having made so much progress that day. Lately it’s been hard to feel much joy at all, admittedly. And now, even your stress relieving activity ran dry as your source of positive emotions. And now you were left there, feeling miserable, with a small army of paper Pokémon on your desk, staring unfeeling in different directions with their blank little heads and pointy beaks.
You sat there, contemplating the feelings inside you for a while. After the realization that no matter how much you did that, you wouldn’t feel any better, you took a deep sigh and began to count all of the new paper Ho-Ohs on your table, so you could put them away with the rest. You ran out of the free space in your closet, so you began to hide the new boxes with origami pieces under your bed.
You knew folding a thousand of these wouldn’t do anything. You knew that, and you accepted that. It took you some time, but eventually you had to admit to yourself that Emmet was right, at least in this regard. Maybe you really did think that by doing all this, you were somehow… doing something. Helping to get Ingo home. Subconsciously. And it took you some time to accept that none of this was true. But you did. You were sure you did. Even though you continued to fold the Ho-Ohs, and didn’t have the heart to throw any of them away, even when they were starting to take so much space. But that was just because you were still using this as a way to process all the stress you found yourself under again. And… you also just didn’t feel good about throwing the origami birds away. You put so much time and effort into making them, and used so much paper. You just couldn’t treat them like garbage. Maybe you’d give them away somehow, someday? You didn’t give it much thought yet. But you were sure you would be able to think of a better way to use the fruits of your labor.
You counted each Ho-Oh as you put them into the box. Carefully, not to damage them by accident. Fourteen, fifteen… Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three… Thirty. Combined with the eight hundred and twenty three you already had, you now had folded eight hundred and fifty three in total. A very considerable number. You were almost impressed with how far you’ve come and how close you were to reaching a thousand, but you reminded yourself that it didn’t matter in the end. Nothing would happen once you do that. It would be a huge milestone, sure. But nothing more than just an impressive number.
You closed the box and got up from your chair. Then you knelt down near your bed and looked under it, before pushing the box into the remaining free space, along with a few other boxes. If you weren’t mistaken, you had enough space under your bed still to put the rest of the one hundred and sixty seven Ho-Ohs under there, neatly put into other boxes, when you actually make them. So space shouldn’t become a problem.
The planning, calculating and task completing gave you a small burst of dopamine, and you smiled a little. It wasn’t enough to bring you out of your prolonged misery for a long time, but in these circumstances, you appreciated a little simple happiness.
With a sigh, you plopped onto your bed and relaxed your body. You didn’t need to justify yourself getting a small break after sitting on a chair without changing position much, but it still felt nice to give yourself an additional reason. Taking a break after a job well done gives one dopamine too, right? Or was that serotonin?... Well, it didn’t matter anyway. This was part of your stress relief and self-care. It made you feel much better about taking a break. When Sitrus jumped onto your bed and demanded scratches, you felt even better.
For some time, everything felt relatively okay.
Your peace was disturbed when your cellphone, which remained on your desk, rang. You weren’t in a hurry to pick it up. Truthfully, you kind of didn’t want to at all, especially since that meant you had to get up. But not answering the phone for no good reason was probably not a good idea, and with a sigh and a grunt you pushed yourself off the soft bed and walked over to your desk again. You took your phone and answered the call, not bothering to take a look at the screen and caller ID.
“Hello?” You responded with a voice that sounded sleepier than you intended. You closed your eyes and rubbed them with a free hand, while the voice on the other side began speaking. You didn’t register what it was at first, especially since it wasn’t a voice you recognized. You paid closer attention when the caller said your first and last name, and asked you to confirm that it was you they were talking to.
“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you?”
The piqued curiosity made you pay closer attention to what you were being told. And the more you listened, the wider your eyes would become, and the more stressed you would feel.
“What?! I’ll be there in a moment!” You ended the call and ran out of the bedroom, faster than a bullet. You barely gave yourself the opportunity to put your shoes on and take the keys with you.
Though, really, when you get a call from a hospital, and they inform you that one of your significant others, the one who didn’t disappear for months and still hasn’t came back, was in said hospital after almost falling on train tracks, anyone in your place would have been too stressed to care about details. The rest of the details were simply unimportant at that moment. All that was important to you was getting to the hospital as soon as possible, to make sure Emmet was alright. Not by hearing it from someone else – you needed to see him with your own eyes.
The next hour or so became a blur in your mind. You moved on autopilot as you made it to the hospital you received the call from as fast as you physically could. Then… you were pretty sure you were demanding to see Emmet, while in front of the reception desk. You were never quite the confrontational type, especially when it came to staff. But at that moment, you probably looked destroyed and deranged as you demanded to see your partner, refusing to wait or getting a ‘no’ for an answer. But at that moment, you didn’t care. Seeing Emmet was everything you cared about at that point.
All the corridors you passed through afterwards, while looking for the room number two hundred and eleven, became an even bigger blur. Whether it was because of the state you were in, or because all the corridors and doors looked the same to you, it didn’t matter. In the end, there was very little you were actually thinking about.
Was Emmet okay? He was alive, right? How did he even get into a situation like this? If he didn’t actually fall onto the tracks, why was he in the hospital? How did he, someone always so focused on safety and following the rules, get himself into such accident? …Was it even an accident?
You didn’t even have the strength to try and ignore these thoughts. Besides, they were what was giving you the strength to keep going until you actually saw Emmet and made sure he was alright.
What stopped you on your tracks and snapped you out of your trance was seeing a familiar figure down the corridor. After a second take, you also realized that this figure was just leaving the room two hundred and eleven, the one you were looking for. On legs that felt like they were made of cotton, you appreciated the familiar figure.
“Hey, Elesa”.
Your voice was shakier than you expected. A bit too quiet too. But the woman heard you anyway and turned to you, as you approached. Her icy blue eyes looked dulled, nowhere near as sharp as they usually are. Her whole face showed anguish that she was trying to mask, at least semi-successfully. Her face grew only a tiny bit softer when she saw you. She greeted you back, her own voice not exactly cheerful.
“So, you’ve heard too… The hospital called you too?”
You nodded. Suddenly, Elesa being here made much more sense. The doctors must have gone through Emmet’s emergency contacts. Not that you were opposed to seeing her here, though you still felt a little surprised, because of your tunnel vision.
You looked between Elesa and the door to the room where Emmet was. You couldn’t look your friend in the eyes, so you opted to staring at the tiled floor.
“Emmet… Is he?...”
“He’s okay. Well, for the most part”. Elesa, bless her soul, didn’t force you finish your sentence, and answered your unasked question before your voice had a chance to break. She sighed when you gave her a worried look a moment after.
“He didn’t hurt himself or anything. Archeops pulled him away from the tracks before he had a chance to fall”.
You nodded again, feeling just slightly relieved. Though that didn’t answer your question of what she meant by ‘for the most part’. You got an uneasy feeling because of that wording.
“Did Emmet… did he…” You couldn’t finish your thought. This time not because of the lack of confidence in the strength of your voice. You felt like there was a physical block, preventing you from asking this question out loud, or even thinking about what you were about to say too much.
Elesa sighed and looked away sadly. It seemed like she knew what you were thinking about. Maybe she had the same thoughts before too.
“He didn’t. It was an accident”.
You sighed shakily, the relief almost knocking you off your feet completely. Though, Elesa’s face didn’t let you relax for too long. It seemed that she didn’t feel good looking you in the face at the moment either.
“…He fainted because of exhaustion. That’s why he almost fell on the tracks”.
You felt everything inside you grow could once again. Exhaustion? He fainted because he was so exhausted? How exhausted does one have to be to faint on an edge of a train platform? Especially for someone who was always adamant about following safety rules?
Though… with how much time Emmet has recently been spending working, and then also using all his free time on his search for traces of Ingo… And considering how little time he spent actually sleeping… Oh, Dragons. How did you allow things to get this bad? Only now did you realize that ever since Emmet stopped spending the nights at your bedroom, you actually had no idea how many hours of sleep he’s been getting lately. For all you knew, it’s possible he’s been getting less than bare minimum. And since you stopped visiting him for lunch breaks, you also had no idea how he’s been eating. Has he even been eating enough? Was he using his lunch breaks to actually eat? Or did he double down on ignoring everything else that wasn’t not his work or research?
And the worst part was, you kind of let it happen. Sure, Emmet pushed you away that day, and didn’t make an attempt to reach out. But neither did yon. You avoided him for so many days, not even because you were trying to give him space. But because you were simply… scared to talk to him again. You kept hoping things would just… magically go back to normal, on their own. To the point you completely missed what grief was doing to Emmet, and completely avoided him in the time he probably needed you most.
…When did you two drift apart so much? When did that shift happen? When did things get so bad, that neither of you felt comfortable sharing the pain and reaching out to eachother for support anymore?
The misery written all over your face and the prolonged silence must have given it away what you were thinking, at least partially. Because the look on Elesa’s face made you feel like she was about to try and reassure you that what happened was not your fault. You gave her a look as well, and she seemed to abandon that idea, since you already seemed to know what she was going to say anyway.
The silent communication didn’t last though, and then it was Elesa’s turn to look away in slight discomfort again.
“I tried to talk to him just now, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me much. No matter what I asked, he just kept saying he’s fine. He’s really not good at lying though… I know what his ‘normal’ looks like, and this is definitely not it”.
She looked at you again, and her electric blue eyes made you feel like you were getting stabbed, even though she wasn’t saying anything negative toward you.
“Maybe you could tell me… How has he been doing lately? I saw what people have been saying online, about him looking tired, but I thought they were exaggerating…”
You couldn’t find what to answer and looked away in discomfort once again. What could you even say? That you had no idea how much Emmet has been eating or sleeping, despite sharing the living space? Because you’ve been avoiding eachother? Then again, the silence would have been very telling anyway, so you tried to say at least something.
“He’s… been working a lot. Way more than he should. It’s been a long time since he took an actual break”.
Elesa nodded, understanding what you were talking about. Thankfully, she also didn’t ask you why you didn’t try to stop Emmet from neglecting his own health and letting him bury himself in overtime. Probably because the real Elesa had nothing in common with the version of her your anxiety kept conjuring up, and she’d never accuse you of anything like that. Besides, both of you also knew how stubborn Emmet can be. If he gets something into his head, he becomes like a train – goes exactly on tracks, and no one can stop him if he’s already going at full-speed. And after Ingo vanished, that trait of his got even worse.
Elesa sighed and took a step closer to you. “Do you think you could talk to him? He won’t even talk about this to me, but he might listen to you”.
You nodded, not even really thinking about it, while staring somewhere off into the distance. How were you even going to talk to Emmet about this? If he refused to discuss this with his best friend, who he’s known since they were kids and who he didn’t have any arguments with recently, what possibly could you say to him?
Then again… maybe that was why it should be you to try and talk to him again. You understood the situation better than anyone else at the moment. You knew what’s been on Emmet’s mind, as you heard it straight from him. You saw firsthand how the grief was burning him up from inside. Maybe you could find the right words to help Emmet see it too.
Elesa accepted your nod as an answer and took one more step closer to you. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a hug, and you reciprocated almost immediately.
“…It’s gonna be okay”, Elesa said in a quiet voice, so the only reason you heard her was because her face was so close to your ear. You nodded again. You had a feeling she had more things she wanted to say, but held off for your sake, as to not put any more pressure on you.
The hug lasted for a while, until Elesa released you and left towards the exit, down the corridor you came from. You watched her leave, and only turned to the room door when your friend was completely out of sight.
You hesitated when you put your hand on the doorknob. You wanted to see Emmet, more than anything else in the world right now, and yet you were feeling anxious. It was like all those months ago, when you were hesitating to walk into Ingo’s empty room after not being in there for weeks. Except, unlike back then, now you knew that you walking in would actually do something. In a way, that made it even more terrifying.
You took a deep breath in, then out, then turned the knob and pushed the door in. No matter how nervous or scared you were, your wish to see Emmet and make sure he truly was alright, to see it with your own eyes, was much stronger.
When you walked into the room, your eyes immediately scanned it, until they landed on the bed Emmet was laying on. You didn’t recognize him for a second, because of the hospital gown and because of how messy his hair was. You closed the door softly behind you, your eyes not leaving your partner. He was staring out the window his bed was positioned near. When you walked in, he turned to you for a few moments. His look, even from far away, gave you a shiver. He looked exhausted before, but at that moment his eyes looked hollow, almost empty. When he saw that it was you who came in, he turned back to the window, completely silent, his facial expression unchanging.
You stood at the door, hesitating momentarily once again. Your first instinct was to run up to him and hug him, kiss him, hold him and thank the Dragons and Archeops that he’s alive. But the look he gave you stopped you before you even moved towards him. Somehow, you didn’t feel… welcomed. Your legs felt like jelly once again as you approached the bed slowly. Emmet didn’t react to you when you took a seat in a nearby chair. You looked at Emmet’s face, waiting for him to, maybe, say something. But he didn’t. He just kept staring out the window with glossy eyes.
You took the chance to inspect him again. From a closer distance, you realized just how much he changed in the last week. He was pale, even paler than he’s been before already, since he started to overwork himself. The dark circles under his eyes looked just as awful as before, though it was his eyes themselves that made his face look almost lifeless. You could swear he looked thinner than the last time you’ve seen him too. Although the gown was hiding most of his body, it could be clearly seen by his slightly sunken cheeks and thin arms. You didn’t notice it at first, but Emmet had an IV bag connected to his arm. So, even if he didn’t actually fall on train tracks and didn’t injure himself, the doctors clearly thought he wasn’t in a good enough state to be released. Honestly, you agreed.
As you looked over Emmet, the gravity of the situation finally set in for you. Emmet was in a terrible state. Exhausted, and probably malnourished, to the point he fainted. Not just that, but at a place where not being careful is a sure way to get seriously injured, or worse. And somehow, the fact that Emmet barely avoided a serious accident by pure luck didn’t seem to really make him realize that things have gone too far.
It was a terrible thought, but… You actually weren’t even sure what was worse anymore. What you initially thought – Emmet falling on purpose, because he decided all of this is too much to handle? Or the fact that he almost lost his life in an accident that could have been easily avoided, because he completely neglected himself? Somehow, both of these options made you feel both helpless and useless.
The silence dragged on, and Emmet kept ignoring you in favor of staring out the window. When it became obvious he wasn’t going to say anything, you tried your best to find the words that wouldn’t make things worse somehow.
“Emmet… What happened today?”
He didn’t react at all for a while, and you thought he was ignoring you. As you were about to say something else though, Emmet spoke up, without looking up at you.
“I am Emmet. I tripped. Archie pulled me back. Away from the edge. I am fine”.
You took a deep breath and gripped the fabric of your shirt. The fact that Emmet was still denying the severity of the situation made you feel both sad and frustrated. But you tried to hold your feelings back. You needed to be careful with your words.
“Emmet, I got a call from your doctor. They said you fainted. And that it was because of exhaustion”.
You paused, waiting to see what Emmet would say in response. He didn’t ague or deny anything this time, but he didn’t say anything to confirm it either. He tried not to react, but you noticed how his face became just a tiny bit stressed.
“Now that I see you, I can see why… you look awful”.
Emmet bit his lip, but refused to look at you still. You noticed that, and pushed a little further. “How much did you sleep tonight? What did you eat on your lunch break today?”
You stared at Emmet, paying close attention to his face, mindful even of the tiniest changes. He kept biting his lip, and his gaze dropped down, on his lap. You could see he wasn’t actually paying attention to what was going on outside the window, and was simply staring off into space. You took it as a good sign – at least he was listening, and probably knew that you were right to lecture him about all this. You took it as a chance to get him to finally understand.
“Emmet… Do you not understand this has all gone too far? You can’t keep up this kind of schedule. You can’t work through your time off. Or sacrifice your sleep time, or only eating the bare minimum… You’re either going to drain yourself to literal death, or you’ll just keep fainting, until one day you won’t be lucky enough, and no one will be there to pull you back when you fall in front of an arriving train!”
It wasn’t the plan, but the more you spoke, the more you were losing your composure. And how could you not, when your partner was practically putting himself into an early grave right in front of your eyes, after you already lost the other person you held dear to your heart. Both of you did, even if it was in different ways. Then again, when you saw Emmet wince at the way your voice broke at the end, you thought that maybe it was a good thing. If it helped Emmet understand, you’d gladly let all of your feelings out.
“Emmet, please…” Your voice shook, no longer sounding frustrated, but defeated instead. “I’m not the only one worried about you. I met Elesa in the corridor. She looked like a ghost, because of the news she received too”.
In the corner of your eye, you could see Emmet grip the blanket. You put your hand on his, holding it softly. Emmet didn’t pull his away. You took it as another good sign. It felt good, too. You missed his warmth.
“Please… I already lost Ingo. Don’t make me lose both of you”.
That must have had a lot of effect on Emmet. Even though he was trying very hard to keep a straight face, the way his face scrunched up and his hand gripped the hospital blanket even harder, told you everything you needed to know.
You could see the hurt in his eyes, too. As well as guilt. You hated seeing him this way. You could only hope none of this would be in vain, and he would listen to you now.
You gently caressed his hand with your thumb, watching his face closely. You could tell there was an internal struggle there, especially by the way his breathing became a bit more fast and shallow.
You waited some more, making sure Emmet wasn’t going to say anything. Your newfound confidence from seeing your words working helped you keep your voice quiet and steady. For the first time in a while, you didn’t feel scared speaking your mind and what you felt.
"Emmet... I understand why you’re doing this. I know how you feel. But-"
“No. You don’t”.
That sentence sounded way harsher than what you expected to hear, and you froze in silence. Even with Emmet’s flat voice, that interruption felt like a slap on the cheek, and it stunned you into silence, taking all of your newfound confidence away. Suddenly, it felt like you were standing in his room again, just like a week ago, when Emmet showed you what he was actually working on and pushed you away.
“You don’t know how I feel. You can’t know. Ingo is my brother. He’s my twin. We’ve never been apart. You’ve only known us for two years. You can’t know how it feels. Don’t tell me that you do. You don’t”.
The more Emmet said, the deeper the pit in your stomach became, and the more it hurt. The more it made you feel sick. You felt dizzy as Emmet’s words set in. You didn’t have the courage to look him in the face, afraid of what he might have on it.
“Not for me. Not for Elesa. To see everyone give up. You can’t”.
The silence that came after was deafening. You kept staring at the blanket on Emmet’s bed, too scared to look up, and unable to say anything. You felt like you didn’t have anything to say. Or maybe the agony in your chest and a big bitter lump in your throat just made it too hard to think of anything.
Slowly, you pulled your hand back and placing it on your lap instead. You hated how you could see it shake from the corner of your eye. You hated how you no longer knew what to say.
It hurt. Of course it hurt. It hurt to be pushed aside like this. It hurt that all of it was coming from someone so dear to you. Someone who you saw as your safety rock, despite everything. It hurt for your feelings to be invalidated like that.
And it hurt because… for some reason, you felt like Emmet was right. It was very likely that those were intrusive thoughts that have been following you for months, and now truly came out of the darkness when you were at your worst now. Completely defeated. But even though some part of you, deep down, knew this, the rest of your brain couldn’t think straight. You were too hurt for that. By what happened to Emmet, by how alone you felt, by how Emmet pushed you aside and invalidated what you felt. Him – the person you saw as support.
You needed to get out. You needed air. You couldn’t breathe properly, because of the bitter lump that formed somewhere in your throat again, that you couldn’t swallow. You didn’t want to cry here, in front of Emmet, after he just told you all that. So you sucked it all up as much as you could, hoping your voice wouldn’t waver.
“Emmet…”
It did, and you grew silent for a few seconds to get a hold of yourself. You kept your gaze lowered, yet it was like you couldn’t even see anything. Like everything was just… blank.
“You are right. I… I can’t know how you feel. You’re right”. It was a miracle you managed to speak at all at that moment. Though you were sure anyone would have been able to hear the slight shakiness in your voice, which was usually a big giveaway that you were trying very hard not to cry.
“I only… I only recently found my family. Only two years ago. And you’ve had Ingo your whole life. Losing family after having it your whole life must be… agonizing. If losing it after having it for… for such a short amount of time hurts so much already”.
Your voice wavered at the very end. The more you spoke, the more you felt your eyes water and voice get weaker. The more tears you felt accumulate, and the harder it was to keep a calm face, the more you tried to smile. The smile felt forced on your face, and probably looked the part too. But you couldn’t help it. It felt like if you were to stop trying to smile, you’d break, then and there.
With eyes still not registering anything, you stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t hear. Everything was like static on an old TV. You walked out of the room, and then out of the hospital, on nothing but muscle memory and legs that were barely holding you up.
While you were shuffling back home like a zombie, your head was getting overfilled with all kinds of thoughts and feelings. Unfortunately, none of them were happy or positive at all.
How could Emmet say something like that? Did he really think this way? That you didn’t understand what he was feeling? Because you’ve only known him and Ingo for two years? Then again, wasn’t he right? How could you even compare what you were feeling to Emmet’s pain? Emmet and Ingo were- are twins. They’ve always been close, to the point they’ve never really truly been apart for longer than a month. And even then, they at least had connection through calls. How must he have felt after Ingo’s been gone for months, likely d… gone, or when everyone else gave up on finding him? Or, at least, finding out what happened to him? Should you have really said that you understood? Regardless of how you felt, it must have hurt Emmet…
On the other hand, why should you give Emmet such justification, when you’ve been going insane since Ingo’s disappearance as well? When Emmet basically pushed you away, despite being your lifeline during the difficult times? Was supposed to be one, at least. And he pushed you away and hurt you so much instead.
But you knew he was suffering no less than you were. You knew Emmet. He could sound mean or rude, but it was rarely ever on purpose. Rather, his straightforward way of speaking and the tendency to say what was on his mind made him sound rude on occasion. He was also never a cruel person. What he said could have easily been blamed on his own overwhelming feeling of hurt and grief. You understood that. You were trying your best to be understanding.
But that thought made you even more frustrated and sad. Because why should remain understanding? You’ve tried your best to remain understanding for months, and where did that get you? Why did you have to remain understanding, while Emmet pushed you further and further away, as if the last two years you’ve known him and Ingo were nothing? As if you were a stranger? As if his whole situation hasn’t been slowly killing you from the inside?
Maybe thinking this way was selfish. After all, it probably really couldn’t compare. Emmet really did spend his whole life with Ingo, literally. You’ve only been around for a few years or so.
But did you not deserve to be weak for once? Did you not deserve to be a little selfish? To be supported in a difficult situation by someone you considered family? The closest person you’ve ever had, when another closest person you’ve ever had has gone missing? Was it selfish to wish for Emmet to stop drowning himself in work and futile research, and accept that… that it was just the two of you now? And to focus on supporting eachother through it all instead?
The angry thoughts soon morphed into very depressing ones. When you weren’t blinded by anger and hurt, you could see that, the truth was, both of you were suffering a huge amount. Both of you were hurt and grieving, and needed a lot of support, especially from eachother. Another truth was that, both of you have been grieving in different ways, and so both of you felt abandoned and misunderstood by one other. You admitted that… that… that happened, and was trying your best to deal with grief and focus on something else. Emmet, on the other hand, was refusing to let it go, and was stuck trying to reach an impossible goal, and pushed himself further than any human should, denying himself rest and self-care. You chose to go in a different direction when it came to processing grief, and you both felt neglected by eachother.
But was it really selfish for you to wish Emmet would abandon his obviously unhealthy new habit of ignoring himself and you, and start grieving properly with you? So you could grieve together?
It couldn’t be selfish, you told yourself. At least you were actually coping. Emmet was… lying to himself. You just wanted what was best for him too…
You were so deep in your thoughts and overwhelmed with feelings, you completely missed the fact that you made it back home. You took off your shoe, not caring if they were put neatly at the apartment entrance. You went straight to your bedroom, feeling completely drained from everything that happened in the last two ours. Without even thinking, you dropped onto your bed, as you often did whenever you were tired or upset, without the possibility of going to one of your partners for comfort. And you definitely didn’t have it at the moment… Would you even get it any time in the future? Or ever at all? Was something like this enough to consider a relationship over? You didn’t want to think like that, as these thoughts were only making you hurt even more, as if putting salt on a fresh wound. Yet, you couldn’t stop. And burying yourself into a pillow and blankets wasn’t helping at all.
After a while of futile attempts of getting your emotions under control, you groaned loudly into the pillow out of frustration. Why couldn’t your stupid brain just calm down and stop thinking about what happened?! You didn’t want to torture yourself, why was your mind working so hard against you?!
You sighed forcefully and pushed yourself off the bed. You needed to get your mind busy, so you went to your desk, to continue making the Ho-Ohs, as you were doing earlier that day. Anything to try and get your mind off everything. You sat down with another defeated sigh and went straight to folding.
The process helped you relax your mind. Not completely, but enough not to feel like you’re suffocating. Sitrus wasn’t on his usual pillow on your desk, his designated spot. You closed your bedroom door, and you didn’t really want to see him at the moment. You felt like you might somehow scare him because of your awful mood, so you wanted to be alone for some time.
You folded. And you folded. And you folded. Your mind worked calmly and steadily, just like your hands, to process all the new information while working with paper. Though, maybe ‘processing’ was a bit too strong of a word. You were simply playing your conversation with Emmet on repeat in your mind, as if doing that would somehow give you answers or a solution on what to do now. Folding was simply helping you stay calm as you were doing so, instead of breaking down crying.
You weren’t consciously thinking about it much, but in the short moments you were, you had a feeling your facial expression was incredibly sour. Even if you weren’t outright crying, you couldn’t fully swallow down the hurt. Then again, even if you could, what would be the point? You were alone in your room anyway.
Eventually, your desk was covered in paper Ho-Ohs, to the point you had nowhere to put the new ones. With a sigh, you put the unused paper away and began to count the paper birds on your desk, to keep track of them. It was a bit of a chore, but you couldn’t really complain. When your head was focused on the math, there was no place left in it for unpleasant thoughts and self-loathing. Or you would have made a mistake and would have had to start counting all over again.
You counted the origami pieces, quietly mouthing the numbers to yourself. One, two, three… Ten, eleven… Twenty… Thirty… fifty… fifty five. Fifty five paper Ho-Ohs were on your desk, all ready to join their older siblings in one of your boxes under your bed. You got up, ignoring the slight discomfort in your legs from sitting down for a long time, leaned down and pulled out a half-filled box. Gently, one by one, you moved all the new pieces inside, then put the box lid back on, and pushed the shoebox back under your bed, with the rest.
With a small sigh, you sat back down as your desk and searched for the paper you used to help you keep track of how many Ho-Ohs you’ve already made. The last number you’ve written was eight hundred and eighty seven. That, plus fifty five put you at…
You stared at the paper before you as you wrote down the new number. Nine hundred and forty two. You blinked, staring at the number in shock.
Nine hundred and forty two. This was… so incredibly close to one thousand! Somehow, you didn’t notice that last time. It was only then, when the first digit became a nine, were you suddenly hit with the realization that you were less than a sixty pieces away from your goal. That was almost as many as you’ve made just now. If you took some more time, put some more effort in folding…
…You could reach your goal tonight.
That realization made you forget everything you’ve been thinking about in the last few hours. Your mind was completely overtaken by the realization, and you felt your heart begin to beat at an insane speed from the sudden rush of excitement and anticipation. You thought your heart would break your chest cavity, it was beating to rapidly.
You needed a moment to walk around your bedroom, to stretch your legs a little before you settled down for hours again, and to walk off your excitement jitters. Then you sat back down, took a deep breath, and focused on making more Ho-Ohs.
It took you all your willpower to keep stopping yourself whenever you caught yourself counting the origami pieces while you were still in the process of making them. If you allowed yourself to do that, you would have went insane from the feeling of being too slow, and you’d end up wasting too much time overall, instead of focusing on the task itself.
It was pretty much impossible to completely stop yourself from counting though, so you settled on a compromise with yourself. You only counted them whenever you were done with ten Ho-Ohs. This way, it was easier to keep track of how many more you needed to finish, without stressing yourself as much as if you were to count each one of them.
You needed fifty eight. Not a small number. But you could pull it off. You felt a wave of satisfaction when the first batch of them was done and resting neatly on your desk. At that point, you didn’t bother putting them away in a box, and simply moved them to the side, so they wouldn’t be in the way.
Your heart was still beating faster than before when you had twenty Ho-Ohs done in total.
When you reached thirty, you realized you’ve been biting your lips this whole time and had to consciously stop yourself. Your poor lips have been through enough and were already damaged as is.
You took to shaking your foot under the desk by the time you had forty pieces done. Your desk was already feeling cramped, but you kept the Ho-Ohs there anyway, not wanting to lose even five minutes on putting them away. You wanted to reach your goal as soon as possible. You’ve been on this journey long enough already.
You had to take a short pause when you were done with fifty. Only eight more left to go. That realization made your heart skip a beat, and your breathing became quick and shallow.
From here on out, you counted each paper Ho-Oh you did. Forcing yourself to not rush became so much harder, but you were still succeeding. You managed to somewhat hold yourself back while you were doing the first three bird Pokémon. When it was only five left, you began to count every single one of them, as your ears were overwhelmed with your own pulse.
Fold, fold… one. Fold some more, and again… two. Three. Four… And, at last, five. Which meant eight. Which also meant, you have made fifty eight paper Ho-Ohs in this session. Which meant you’ve done it. You have finally folded exactly one thousand paper Ho-Ohs.
You placed the last Ho-Oh gently on your desk, along with its brothers. The moment felt exciting. Triumphant, even. It was not hard to see why – folding a whole thousand origami pieces was not an easy feat, and you’ve been moving towards this goal for months. And yet, that wasn’t all. The excitement you felt couldn’t have just been the result of simply reaching the high number. You were excited for something else.
You stared at the Ho-Oh number one thousand, as it sat on your desk. And you stared. And stared…
…
But nothing happened.
You bit your lip again. You’ve bit it so many times that day, you started to taste iron again. Why was… nothing happening?
What was even supposed to happen? What were you expecting to happen?
You ignored your own internal question, as you began to count all of the paper Ho-Ohs on your desk all over again, with a slowly growing feeling of panic in the back of your mind. You even made sure to move them from one side to another, one by one, in order to not make a mistake while counting.
But there was no previous mistake. There were exactly fifty eight origami birds on your desk.
But this couldn’t be right. You had to have made a mistake somewhere. You got up from your chair and scrambled to get all the boxes out from the closet and under the bed. You began to pull all the Ho-Ohs out, one by one, sitting them all down on the floor. You even used the paper you were using before, to keep track of every Ho-Oh you’ve counted so far. You had to have made a mistake somewhere. You had to have. Maybe you’ve made less Ho-Ohs than you thought…
It took you a long time, probably. You weren’t paying much attention to that. But eventually, you had all the boxes emptied, and all Ho-Ohs counted and now sitting all over the floor, practically covering your whole room. Some you had to place on other surfaces, as they couldn’t all fit on the floor and desk. Eventually, you had all the Ho-Ohs counted all over again.
There was no mistake. There were exactly one thousand Ho-Ohs.
You felt your legs grow weak, and you had to sit down on your chair again. You only had enough energy to make sure you didn’t step on any of the birds or damaged them. But that was it.
You stared at your hands, resting them on your lap. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how nothing happened.
But what was supposed to happen? What were you expecting to happen? Surely, you weren’t actually expecting your wish to be granted? You realized it was only an old legend, and that you were folding the Ho-Ohs simply because it helped you deal with stress.
…Then why did you feel such crushing disappointment?
Of course this did nothing. Of course folding a thousand pieces of paper to look vaguely like a legendary Pokémon would not change reality in any way. Wouldn’t bring a missing person back home. Wouldn’t make Ingo just walk through the front door again, like nothing happened… Why were you even expecting that to happen at all?
You didn’t… No, it couldn’t be that. You… you coped with loss already, for the most part. You accepted that Ingo…
Your mind blanked. Ingo… he’s… You stared at your hands, again, feeling a chill go down your spine at the terrifying realization you were now feeling in your chest. Why couldn’t you… You’ve done this before, right? You were sure that you’ve done this before, haven’t you? You were sure that you have. At least a few times, at some point. You were coping, after all. That meant you’ve already admitted to yourself that Ingo might be…
You slapped your hand against your mouth, as the sick feeling got even worse, and began making you actually feel physically sick.
Why couldn’t you admit it? Why couldn’t you even think about it seriously, much less actually say that out loud? Why couldn’t you… Could you have not been coping as well as you thought you were?
You felt like you were having trouble breathing. How could that be possible? What about all those things you’ve been telling yourself? That you were actually folding the Ho-Ohs as a way to combat stress? That you’ve already accepted that Ingo… that he… Were you lying to yourself? So much, that you yourself had no awareness of that?
Were you being a hypocrite by telling Emmet that he needed to stop his research and start coping with loss properly, when you’ve been in literally the same loop yourself? With the difference being that Emmet was at least honest with you and himself that he wasn’t going to give up on finding Ingo.
You sobbed quietly, and looked at your shaking hands. So many feelings suddenly rushed over you, for the second time that day. Now for a completely different reason. And yet, it all felt just as hopeless now as it did hours ago. The whole emotional rollercoaster of that day, from hopeless, to hopeful, to hopeless again was just too much.
You covered your mouth when another sob, this one louder, escaped your throat. You turned to your desk in your chair and breathed in, slowly and shakily. Almost on autopilot, you reached for another piece of paper. Even though your vision was blurry, because of the tears that were now building up in your eyes, you began to fold the paper in the way that became so familiar to you at that point, albeit much slower than you did a few hours ago.
Even after everything you just realized, even though you were starting to get overwhelmed by everything, and your eyes were cloudy with tears, a small part of you was still trying to bargain. Even though you counted all of the Ho-Ohs twice, maybe you made a mistake somewhere. You must have miscounted. You must have not made enough. You must have… must have…
The new Ho-Oh was ready and sitting in your shaky hands. Your lip wavered, and the tears began to pour out of your eyes, while you stared at the paper Pokémon. It didn’t stare back at you. It didn’t do anything. Because it was paper.
It didn’t bring Ingo back. Because it was just a piece of folded paper.
You placed the origami pieces on the desk and had to use your hands to balance yourself. Otherwise, you would have face planted into the wooden surface. You covered your mouth with your hand again, when more sobs escaped you, and you could no longer keep all your emotions in.
Ingo is gone. He’s been gone for months. It’s very likely he’s not even alive anymore. He’s not coming back. He’s never coming back home.
It only took a few seconds for your quiet crying to turn into loud wailing. When you sobbed, your whole body quaked. Nobody was at home, so you didn’t bother to keep quiet. Though, even if you weren’t alone, you wouldn’t have tried anyway. You didn’t even think about the Pokémon in the apartment that might hear you.
You were wailing, and sobbing, and crying because you felt the weight of everything that happened finally crush you. You’ve cried many times in the last two months, and yet, somehow, all the feelings you’ve felt those times could not compare to the crushing hopelessness you were feeling now. It was only now that it finally, truly dawned on you that you will never see Ingo again.
You will never hear his loud, excited voice. Never see him blush and get flustered over you showering him with affection in public. You’ll never see him stand proudly in his uniform, or spoil his Pokémon, hold you in his soft hugs, cuddle you in bed, give you kisses when he wakes up at odd hours of the night. You’ll never cup his face gently again when he’s trying to smile, only to end up just slightly tugging the corners of his mouth up, and you’d stare him in the eyes, and they’d be filled with such softness and affection, and- and…
You felt like your heart was getting ripped apart in your chest, and it hurt so much, you screamed. “PLEASE! Please… I don’t want him to be gone forever! Please! I want- I want to know he’s okay! THAT HE’S SAFE!”
You took a quick sharp breath in after running out of air from shouting so much. Your face being overwhelmed with tears did not make it any easier for you to breathe. You weren’t screaming at anyone in particular, no one was there to listen to you cry from the heart, much less anyone powerful enough to grant you your wish. It was also difficult to say that screaming into the void was helping you feel better. But you simply couldn’t be silent anymore, it hurt too much.
You sobbed quietly. Your throat now hurt a little from screaming so loudly. You put a hand to your mouth again, smearing the tears across your face.
“I… I want t- to see him again… I want… I want Emmet to see him again…” Your whispering was a big difference from the screaming you were doing just a minute ago. But your voice was no longer strong or steady enough for that. Your voice was wavering, breaking at almost every other word.
“I… I want Ingo home… Please! Please…”
You sobbed as you pushed yourself out of your chair, using the desk to help yourself stand up. You took a few steps, shuffling over to your bed. That was exhausting enough, and you collapsed onto your bed. You buried your face into your pillow, as you wailed in pain and desperation.
You were so… tired. So exhausted. Your poor heart ached, as it was slashed open. As if a wound you’ve been trying to heal was torn open again, and was now bleeding all over. You kept sobbing into your pillow, clinging tightly to it. As if that would somehow replace Ingo for you.
You cried for a long time. As least, it felt like it. When you were eventually all out of tears, you were also completely drained. You didn’t have much energy to even turn the light on your desk off, much less pick up all the paper Ho-Ohs and put them all away. You drifted off to dreamless sleep.
