This world is inhabited by creatures that we call pokemon. People and pokemon live together by supporting each other, but now the scourge threatens the safety of the entire region. Kohaku has become a dangerous place, where children stay at home and only brave souls go adventuring.
Welcome to KOHAKU. Come for the nightmares. Stay for the tea and crumpets.
The season is SUMMER. It is easy for survivors to forage for food from the land, as there are entire abandoned farms ready for harvest. On the downside, you can smell the corpses.
swarms
GRAND OPENING !
Welcome to KOHAKU REGION's grand opening! If you're interested in joining, come check out our grand opening giveaway!
"I'm not lying." She wasn't. She didn't lie. Heal didn't even tell white lies, it was part of who she was. She did however - as part of her training - had to learn how to contain her emotions. She was such a failure. "You stole nothing from me! I shared everything with you Jayden. Why can't you see that... that, I wanted you in that house?" She always wanted him there, with her, by her side. She never really made many other friends because he was all she needed. Heal stared at his hand, her face expressing concern but she said nothing. "You belong with people who love you Jayden, it doesn't matter if we're blood or not." She wanted to break, but she couldn't. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of crying more. She had a job to do, and it seemed as though it was going to be hard and emotionally draining from the start.
He laughed. She crossed her arms over her chest. Oliver leaned up against her leg, and she scratched his head. "I never claimed to be smart." She couldn't hide her sense of amusement from her voice. Everything stopped though when he asked her something she never thought she'd be asked. Was it her duty to care? Was it their memories together? It was surely all of that, but it ran deeper than than just that, she was sure. "Go ahead, ask me whatever." As he moved closer, so did she. Her heart was beating out of her chest, she was nervous, almost afraid - no no, she was anxious. A thousand different questions ran through her head, and time seemed to pause as she thought about each and every one of them. Her nerves made her want to hurl, but she couldn't. She didn't even portray any of it on her face.
When he finally did ask - which felt like agonizing minutes, rather than the few seconds it truly was - her heart sank into her chest, probably for the seventeenth time since they started talking. "And you said I was stupid," she mumbled. "Fine," Heal raised her voice, "you wanna know why?"
Helvetica took in a deep shaky breath, she pinned both her hands to her sides. "Because I-I just... I just need you. You're like- when you left was the first time we've ever been apart." She loved him with all her heart and soul, but somehow trying to tell him that her love wasn't exactly platonic wasn't something that she could do.
Of course she was lying. Jayden gritted his teeth, tightened his fist from where it had stayed a fist by his side but never let it slip, some little part of him whispering that this wasn't the right time, wasn't the right place. Instead, he focused on the way she stared at him as she spoke, a million different emotions swirling like stars in her eyes, shaking his head. "You don't get it." But she got it perfectly, his mind leered, he was the one who didn't get anything, didn't know anything at all. "Blood does matter. No matter which way you look at it, what angle it always comes down to the same thing." He took a breath, steadied himself against the wall because it felt like he was falling, cracking, chipping away with each word. "I'm an outsider. You didn't just share - you gave me everything, and it still wasn't enough, I wanted it all. I can understand why you wanted me in that house before, but why now?" Why him, why not somebody else? Why not somebody better?
She spoke while he boiled in silent anger, and when all the steam had finally gone, he was able to quirk a smirk to hide the genuine smile, the beginnings of a laugh that wasn't clogged to the brim with bitterness and hate. This was safer, this was familiar territory - this banter, the constant back and forth. "You have your moments." But familiar territory was also dangerous territory, and even though he'd spent all of his time since that day training himself to hate, bite at anyone who even looked or sounded like her everything still paled in comparison to the real thing. She was here, and he stepped closer, challenging, expecting her to take steps back to match when in reality, she stepped closer, matching him step for step. She stood her ground, and with every second that she did, he continued to crack, melt, piece back together the forgotten emotions of the past. Dangerous, this was too dangerous, but he had no intentions of backing away, not now.
"...You know, for the longest time, I wanted a family to call my own. I wanted it more than anything in the world." In a way, it was kind of like the strength he so fervently chased now, always within reach but never obtainable, not quite. "And then, something along the way made me realize I wanted something more, and I can't have both at the same time." And it made him angry, the way she kept talking to him like they were a dysfunctional pair of brother and sister when he wanted something more, both when it had to be one or the other. "I made my choice when we made that vow and I'm going to stick by it, but you, why would you need me?" He took another step closer, swallowed heavily, and it took everything he had not to scream get away, what have I ever done to make you feel this way?
"You should've forgotten. Moved on, even." She didn't need him. Not when he needed her so much more.
Her worst fears were coming true. She couldn't get through to him - she couldn't convince him to go home, to get out of danger. "Then lets become blood 'brothers', right now. If it's that important to you, we'll share blood." She'd cut up her chest and give him her heart if it'd fix this mood - this obvious depression - that he was in. Cutting her wrist and swapping blood was nothing compared to that. She owed him that much. She stared at him, her face, her voice, even her body movements were completely serious. She shrugged her backpack off her shoulder and unzipped it, taking out a hunting knife that she had recently cleaned and sharpened. It was a gift from father to only use when her fists and words failed her. She couldn't punch Jayden, and her words had failed to bring him home. This wasn't it's intended use, but it was to protect her, it was to protect her heart and soul from becoming even more damaged from his words. "You can have everything, you can have the dojo." Why now? "And you said I was stupid.A-are you blind, Jayden?" Did he not see the world around him anymore? Did he not see that even though Heal knew she was probably going to die on this mission that she was terrified of death? For a split second she let her true emotions appear on her face, the frustration, the fear, and the determination. If it didn't twist her face around, they were all evident in her eyes.
She stepped closer, again, she wanted him to listen to her. Heal wanted to fix whatever was wrong with him, she had figured out why, when, where, and how he broke, now she just had to figure out to put him together. Right now she felt as though she picking up glass sharps and taping them together with scotch tape rather than hot glue. She kept the knife out, but kept it sheathed. She watched for his reaction to it. She couldn't strap him down, slice his wrist, and swap blood. She couldn't make him do anything, no matter how much she wanted it. He was his own person.
She listened to him. Something more? Her heart thumped in her chest and she could hear it for a moment in her ears, pulsating in her head. "You're really stupid Jayden, I need you. Do I have to pour my heart out, or is just saying that I need you enough?" Did she have to confess her feelings? How she felt safe when he was by her side? How she never really started to doubt or hate herself until he left? The next thing that he said enraged her though, and she nearly slapped him across the face. She stopped before she touched his cheek, only an inch away. "How could I forget you? Tell me, because I can't! You're almost constantly on my mind."
Part of him - most of him - wanted to snap again, slam his teeth together so hard that his head would ring with the aftershocks, molars clattering. The rest of him wanted to turn and leave her there, because even through all this time, she still didn't understand what he meant, and if she still didn't understand then there was nothing left for him to do, nothing left for them to talk about. Some little, insignificant part of him wanted to compromise, do both but neither at the same time, and while three of them were warring for dominance over a decision in his head she chose to act first. Jayden stared, not at the knife but at her, really looked at all of her. He expected his body to back away at the sight of a weapon, twist around and snap at those words, something that he'd wanted more than anything, if only to belong. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and calmed his traitorous heart, racing at the implications of what she'd just done. "And what are you planning to do with that thing?", spoken while his thoughts said don't you dare do something you're going to regret.
The air around her burned - red hot emotions twisted in her face and an invisible force pushed, like it was rejecting his presence(or maybe he was the one rejecting himself, he wasn't really sure anymore). Although he didn't see it for long, he still saw it, and they seared themselves into his memory in that moment, a brand that made him wince, twisting into the cracks he'd let show and widening them faster than he could repair. She'd told him he was blind, and in a way he was, before, but now the tables had turned and he was the one who knew so much more than he did before, yet still refused to leave the darkness of other truths, ones he had to face whether he wanted to or not. Still, she was the one who was blind, now, not him, the blinds of years gone by obscuring her vision. Was she still thinking of that day, like he still did sometimes, late at night when his pokemon were tucked away and he didn't feel like dreaming?
"Stop saying that! Do you even know what you're saying, who you're saying it to?" The one who took things from her, the one who wanted something that he, of all people, should've understood the importance of. The one who was too selfish to choose between her family and her, the one who was so cowardly that he ran instead of facing up to his faults, waiting until it was too late. But he'd already used up every reason, point, excuse in his arsenal, and she'd sent every one of them flying back at his face, undeterred, ignored everything he expected her to do and did the exact opposite, broke him inch by inch. And now she came at him, finally ready to strike, so he steeled himself, expecting the blow but then -
she didn't.
She stopped.
She stopped and continued to talk, and something in him, in that instant, snapped(because he couldn't afford to break more, couldn't afford to melt any more than he already had). He moved, grabbed the wrist by his face and kissed her(only to stop the words from continuing, he told himself), and if this was some cliched romance movie it would've been long and gentle and perfect. Instead, he kissed hard, trying to convey years upon years of pent up emotions and truth and him before pulling back, letting go of her and clutching at his face with an open palm, running it down until it slid off his chin.
"Fuck the dojo, Heal. I haven't wanted that thing since the day I left."
What was she going to do with that? Was she sure of this?
No, she was sure bout this. She wasn't going to regret this at all. If it'd make him happy - if anything would make him happy - she'd do it. She just couldn't bring herself to leave him, now that she found him. "You want blood, you want my blood flowing in your veins don't you? We'll make it happen." She held up her wrist, traced a cross on her wrist. "You do it too, we'll smash them together and bam, we're siblings." No, it didn't seem like he wanted that. Maybe she wanted it, she wanted to get what she once had.
"Of course I know! You're my best friend, my brother," she lowered hervoice, she was going to say her fiance, but the words wouldn't come out. She couldn't say that word. No matter how much she wanted to just fall apart, sob at his feet, embrace him, hold him close, she couldn't. That wouldn't help and that'd betray her feelings, and would never allow things to go back to the way things were. "You're everything I have." She mumbled softly.
That's when he grabbed her, kissed her hard, and she was shocked. She didn't know what to do. She dropped the knife, it clanked on the ground. She didn't know what to do, but it was powerful. She pressed back, showing him all the frustration that she felt.
He let go.
He said something about fucking the dojo, but she could barely hear him. She was reeling. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, a pink tint of embarrassment covered her cheek. She picked up the knife and placed it back in the bag.
After that they could never go back to just being siblings, because that'd be wrong.
'I-I can't even... what was that?" She rubbed her wrist, then she grabbed his wrist. "N-Next time grab someone like this, or else t-they'll uh, break away."
He'd never been so close to someone before, ever - even before everything that had come between the two of them there was always this distance that he felt the need to hold, keeping everything at arms length lest the illusion dissipate and disappear. Afterwards, when his entire days were clouded with bitter regret buried underneath a mixed veil of hatred and indifference, he kept the outside world even farther, isolating himself(because at every turn, every sight and person and pokemon reminded him of her, and he hated that). Maybe it burned because of the absence, even though most of him was ready to believe that it was only because it was her.
Kissing was completely different, was new, unreached territory that he didn't think he'd ever find himself in. Of course, at the same time, he also never thought he'd be seeing her again, out of all people. Kissing was foreign, but he didn't want to show that, so he poured everything that was - had been - him through the entirety of the years they'd been apart, and it hurt (because he hurt - every day, every second, but denial was a powerful trick of the mind, wasn't it?). He hurt her even though he didn't want to hurt her, couldn't help it, but the burn of his lips when he pulled back was enough to say that she hadn't turned away from it. She'd offered to share blood, called him her brother, but she'd kissed back.
(Would he ever understand her?)
"It was to get you to shut up." They were still close, her blush infecting his own cheeks, the red fading almost as soon as it had stained. "No more about the dojo, no more about sharing blood or about me being your brother -" Spat out, like bile, because even he knew that what he wanted was both more and impossible at the same time. "...I've left that behind. In fact, I almost managed to forget about that life completely if it wasn't for you."
Touch was also foreign, and when she grasped his wrist he almost jerked away out of reflex, reigning in the gesture with the half-hearted excuse as to not provoke her further. "Next time?" The sheer absurdity of it should've been able to make him laugh again, but he just smirked slightly, sighing. This was the point of understanding, he realized, understanding that he would probably never be able to understand or predict what she would do(or say) next, so it was best to just not bother trying. "After I left...everything looked like you, sounded like you. I managed to get over everything in the past, but you never left." And that, he thought, was probably the closest he would get to telling her he missed her without (first)admitting it to himself, losing control, and breaking.
She wasn't skilled, or had even kissed someone before this. She just - for the most part - didn't know what to do. Even though she didn't know exactly what to do, didn't mean that she didn't do something. She pressed back, almost copied him, but by copying him, she too poured her emotions into it. Everything that she felt about him, love, frustration, hope, denial (that she too, felt this way), and overall need into it. That's why she was reeling when he pulled away.
That had to be hard, to forget about everything. Everything from home played a major part in who she was, and why she was even here in the first place. It might have hurt her if she honestly believed that it was to shut her up, she might be naive, but she felt enough emotion from him to know it was something else... something different. "S-Sure, that's what it was.." She didn't sound sarcastic, though her choice of words definitely did. She agreed, not in the mood to argue feelings, when she was far too confused to even know what she felt. Everything that she thought was shattered. Everything that she suppressed were seeping through those cracks, grabbing and turning everything in her insides. "Me?" Did he really just say her of all people stopped him? Not mother or father, her, that was another thing that sent her reeling.
"Next time if you uh, need to ever grab someone. It's you know, a useful skill to know." She didn't let go of his wrist though, even when he jerked away. "See?" Her stance didn't falter, nothing but her hand moved and that was only because she was taken a bit by surprise, If she was honest with herself, the whole shock of everything caused her to move her wrist wrong allowing his movement, but now wasn't the moment where she could focus on martial arts or whatever. "You never left either, I had trouble making other friends after you left. I kept uh, trying to find you in them but a replacement never works."
"I'm sorry, I should have gone straight after you but I figured you'd come back and after - after the way you were treating me, I thought I'd be the last person you wanted and and..." She trailed off. She couldn't regain herself, but she felt safe. Right here, right now, she felt safe. She could, maybe, if he didn't regret her, pour her heart out.
"Jayden, uh, don't die." She couldn't tip over the glass and let it all come flowing out, she was afraid that it might drown herself.
She uttered that one word sentence with so much force and intensity that he almost closed up again, scoffing and turning his head to the side at the last second, instead. "I mean what I say." Again, he chose to contain part of his words, store it away deep in the recesses of his mind. After all, denial was a powerful mental tool that he had harnessed and given into over the years, why shouldn't it work now, when it was needed most? "Don't make me repeat it." It was hard enough the first time.
The position they were in reminded him of the past, reminded him of that day, a symbolic representation of memories and regret. She held fast to him though he tried to pull away, reeled him back even as he sought to escape. "Yeah, got it." Snapping his hand forward, he looped it around her wrist and mimicked her, a symmetrical pose, like reflections. "Like this, I get it." And though he rolled his eyes - fingers of the wrist she held curling and uncurling - he never tore his gaze away, never asked her to release him, though he tried to convey it with his face, unsuccessfully. Most of him was beyond wondering why she didn't just let go, but part of him couldn't help but think it, one last time.
"...I wanted you to hate me." A few minutes ago, he might've protested at that, broken down, cracked and crumbled with no hope of being rebuilt. Now, with hopes of keeping her at arms length - pushing her away, even - dashed without a trace he only frowned, struggling to convey the complex emotions in whatever way he still could(because his face had long since lost every emotion but anger, it coated everything, like a thick layer of rust) while moving his fingers to invisible strings of reality. "Guess I didn't count on the fact that you were so stubborn. I didn't count on being equally stubborn, either, but it happened anyways."
And for the first time in a long, long time he finally felt like he could understand her, understand her feelings that so closely mirrored his own, that he wasn't aware of the entire time he was gone. "Hey, don't demand promises without giving one in return. That's not how it used to go." And he looked her square in the eye, gripped her wrist a little bit tighter and tried to pour out everything he had in hopes that part of it would reach her.
She kept her promises the best she could - all of them. "I won't." It was good enough for her the first time, though on the inside, she wanted to hear it over and over again. It was a heartwarming feeling. She just hoped that it didn't hurt him. She couldn't seem to deal with him being hurt over her.
She smiled when he mimicked her. "There we go." She could get lost in martial arts, and she was glad to see that the years apart didn't make Jayden too sloppy. She felt complete for the first time in a long time, as if she and Jayden were two broken pieces finally being glued together to form something beautiful. "I can't hate you, Jayden. I tried once, after you left. All I felt was broken." It felt so wrong to hate him. Even if Jayden hated her, wanted her dead, and even came at her, it would still feel wrong. How could she hate something that she had loved her entire life? She smiled. "We're both stubborn, a bit too stubborn." They always had been. She perhaps counted on him being more stubborn than she was, but she was glad that he saw things her way.
He was right, that wasn't how it used to go. "Jayden if you get into trouble, don't be a hero, just run please." Helvetica on the other hand, couldn't, or maybe wouldn't run. "I can't promise I won't Jayden, but I can try my best not to die." She dropped his gaze - as if ashamed that she couldn't promise anything. "If I do though, I give you all the rights to plan my funeral, I want pink flowers on my grave and bows on my coffin." She tried her best to lighten the mood.
"Jayden, you have a c-gear, right? If its not too much trouble, can we exchange numbers?"
"It's strange, isn't it?" He scoffed, turning his head to the side briefly, eyes narrowing at a point in the distance. "Out of all the people that I could've met after joining eos I met you, the one I tried so hard to escape from." After he left that place behind, he saw her in everyone, everything. But perhaps some part of him saw himself in them(her) too, just didn't want to admit the fact that they were more similar than he wanted to accept.
"Hero?" The hand of the wrist that she held tightened into a fist. Reflexively, the one that curled around hers also held stronger, and he didn't bother to loosen it. "We're not heroes here, Heal. None of us are. And if you have the time to think about me being in trouble, you'll look at yourself and say those exact same words. Flowers and coffins?" He narrowed his eyes. "Don't kid around. Either promise me you'll survive or sacrifice yourself in some pointless gesture that probably won't make any difference." There wasn't time for sentimentality. The only coffin on the road ahead was the belly of scourge, in pieces.
He didn't let go of her wrist. If anything, his grip got tighter. "Strength is everything, Heal. I want to get strong enough to defeat anything in my path, so that I won't have to run."
Abruptly, he twisted, leaning in so that his mouth was by her ear, then whispered a slow, purposeful set of numbers before pulling back. "And I expect to see you when I get to the top. Give me a promise this time."
"Heroics are what wins battles, maybe not stupidity but acts of bravery." She was serious."People with the brawn fight the battles, while people like you with intelligence win wars." She was brawn, she lived and breathed in the arena. Whether it was with her Pokemon, or even better, herself. Jayden was... much smarter than she was. She wasn't going to deny that.
"I can't promise anything," she looked him straight in the eye, any joke, mockery, or general lightheartedness had disappeared. "You know me, how much I value myself compared to the way I value others." She would sacrifice herself to save a general stranger. She had been that way her entire life. He knew that. Pointless gestures to Jayden meant honor, and fulfillment to Helvetica. How could she live with herself if she someone had died because she hadn't intervened? How could she go on if someone was hurt due to her own negligence? She couldn't. Maybe she was too giving to the world around her, or maybe she wasn't battle hardened. Maybe she was just young and foolish.
With his next statement, she however, smiled. "I wanna get strong too. I don't want to run. I want to defend everything that means something to me, Kohaku, the people, Cura, and most of all you. Because of everyone I can't stand to see hurt, you're on the top of that list." Heal tightened her grip, as if to solidify her point. Not enough to hurt, but enough to be considered sturdy.
Her heart started pumping, her face started to heat up, and her stomach started to turn as if it was a washing machine set on the highest function when Jayden moved towards her ear. Could she promise? Could she assure him that she'd be with him till the very end?The lives of strangers were important to her, but... Jayden was more important. "I wanna be there at the top with you, Jayden. I'll try my best. I can't predict what tomorrow might bring."
"I'm not lying." She wasn't. She didn't lie. Heal didn't even tell white lies, it was part of who she was. She did however - as part of her training - had to learn how to contain her emotions. She was such a failure. "You stole nothing from me! I shared everything with you Jayden. Why can't you see that... that, I wanted you in that house?" She always wanted him there, with her, by her side. She never really made many other friends because he was all she needed. Heal stared at his hand, her face expressing concern but she said nothing. "You belong with people who love you Jayden, it doesn't matter if we're blood or not." She wanted to break, but she couldn't. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of crying more. She had a job to do, and it seemed as though it was going to be hard and emotionally draining from the start. 
