FicWad

I squint at my sister in frustration as she turns down the offer to join my daughter and me in town. I had been hoping to use this opportunity to discuss some things with her and maybe give her and me a chance to cheer up a bit, especially after the fight we had yesterday.

I've also grown worried about my twin. Since I've arrived on Melemele, she's been jumpier than normal, spooking at small touches or soft-spoken words. Though I've always known her to dislike silence and stillness, she spaces out far more often than she should, and her usual constant singing is quieted to just a small tune here or there.

From the few meals we've had together since I've arrived, it appears she has lost much of her appetite. Her normally toned muscles have begun to diminish, and her clothes are becoming loose. As well, she has clearly not been getting enough sleep. I can sometimes hear her tossing and turning in her bed as I walk through the hallway for a trip to the loo or the kitchen for a glass of water.

I want to sit down with her, away from the house that seems to be the starting point for all the most recent trials and events, to talk.

Though I admit, many of her strange behaviors as of late could simply be signs of her recovering from the poisoning from earlier. But, if that truly were the case, then her healing is taking far too long, especially for her, who has remained healthy and strong for most of her life. So I would like to get her away, even if only for a bit.

Instead, she looks back at me placidly, her pale brown eyes unbothered by my own irritated glare.

That was one of the few differences my twin and I shared. Her eyes are a pale brown like tea with cream, while mine are dark, like coffee. Or at least, that's how our father compares us. He says Sashi is as sweet as cream, but I'm as hard as a strong cup of joe, just like our eyes.

"And that's not a bad thing, of course," father had said, after the very first time telling us his thoughts, laughing at my outraged rebuke. "Sometimes you need a nice refreshing drink, but other times you need a good, rough wake-up call."

Weird comparison, I know, but he is a peculiar man. My whole family is. And with as much as I grumble about their crazy antics, you'd most likely assume I hated them, but I genuinely don't. On the contrary, I find them to be a very entertaining bunch. I would just rather watch than join in.

Because Sashi and I were mistaken for each other so often as children, as just about every aspect of our looks was the same, I ensured there were some differences in us for people to use when telling us apart at a single glance. The most significant difference I made was my hair. I cut mine short and keep it that way. Since childhood, I haven't let it grow past my chin, and I have grown rather fond of the easy care and styling.

On the other hand, while she doesn't care about her appearance as much as I do about mine, Sashi keeps her thick, black hair, long and half-way down her back. She usually leaves it hanging down flat against her head or, when she's working, up with a hair tie in a ponytail or bun.

Now, I watch my sister, her usually carefully brushed hair, tangled and messy, as she walks off silently towards her door, refusing my offer with the claim of "needing to do her research".

Sighing, I take my daughter by the hand, and we make our way off my sister's property. I don't want to cause another fight with her by insisting she come with and I fear I may already be treading on thin ice.

I had fallen asleep swiftly after I'd returned from the long shift in the hospital on Akala, but Himiko had grown grumpy at my refusal to start my day with her when she awoke earlier this morning. However, when I groggily promised her a treat in town, she settled down and let me get a few extra hours of sleep.

It was a rather lovely day, as Sam had stated. The sun was shining brightly but not bringing too much warmth with its glow. Despite last night's severe weather, the sky was a deep shade of blue now, with no clouds in sight. The constant sway of the ocean was soft and subdued as it brought in the smell of saltwater and fresh air.

Even with Himiko's short toddler legs, arriving in Hau'oli city doesn't take us very long.

We make one of our stops at the Pokémon Center to drop off the bird I use for air travel across the Islands. As much as I dislike the creatures that my sister and her husband, as well as my parents and other siblings, have devoted their lives to, I have learned them to be a somewhat helpful tool in times of need.

The PokeAssist that Kabir uses, for example. Though, in my head, it would make much more sense to simply use a white cane when you are blind, the little blue and white creature that he calls "Tinsel" does seem to add an extra sense of "sight" for him. And while I'm not a fan of it, the bird that Kai caught and raised for us to use for communicating while he was out to sea has been a very valuable asset. It was useful both in helping us stay in touch and even now, after his passing, to use for a far swifter flight than any ride pager Pokémon I have been provided with in the past.

Even if it weren't so useful, I don't think I would ever be able to rid myself of it. There are many things I haven't been able to part with yet.

I glance down at the capture device on the counter as the pink-haired nurse takes my information down before I leave. The ball is primarily half green and half white. Four orange and one yellow dot adorn the green side of the casing. My husband had told me it was some kind of special Pokeball, but I didn't care enough when he informed me to devote it to memory then. I find myself regretting that choice as I try to recall, even just his words.

It had only been one year since his ship was caught in a storm and capsized while out at sea. There had been no survivors. Most of his crew mates were recovered from the wreckage for their families. A small few were lost, their very existence seeming to vanish off the face of the earth. Kai had been counted among the lost.

At first, I had searched desperately for any sign of his survival. I spent countless hours every day flying back and forth on his Pidgeot, scouring the ocean, hoping against all hope that I could find even one sign. After several weeks of long days flying and each one turning up empty, I had finally agreed with all the experienced sailors and islanders telling me there was no hope. They had been hundreds of kilometers from land when the accident took place. There would have been no way for him, or anyone else lost, to survive.

"Okay, Doctor Māhoe, we'll heal up your Pidgeot and hold onto it until you come back." The kind voice of this center's Nurse Joy tells me, pulling my mind back to this day.

"Thank you," I say with a nod of my head.

I look around for a moment to locate my three-year-old daughter and find her sitting by the water fountain, her tiny, caramel-colored hands sticking in as she tries to touch a small heart-shaped fish Pokémon contained within.

Though her skin tone is the same as mine, she still looks so much like her father. Her bright blue eyes shimmer like the sea. Her white-blonde hair, the same color as the sun. Even her laugh sounds so close to his that sometimes, I catch myself reminiscing about him while she plays.

"Hunny, leave the poor thing alone. You'll stress it out, bothering it like that," I chide her softly as I walk closer.

"No, Mummy, I want to play with the fishy." She retorts, giving me a grumpy glare, her temper quick like mine, then she returns to her playing. The little fish jumps out of the pool with a small leap and comes back down, gently splashing my daughter with water. Rather than be irritated by the sudden soaking, Himiko laughs joyously and sticks her fingers back in. I see the small pink creature swim up to her outstretched digits and rub its body along them, eyes closed in what seems like happy affection.

"That Alomomola doesn't normally take so quickly to strangers!" The man at the shop's section of the center says with a laugh. "It seems your daughter has a way with Pokémon. She'll make a great Trainer someday." He addresses me conversationally.

I nod my head curtly but keep my tongue silent. Himiko has always seemed to make faster friends with Pokémon than with children her own age. This annoys me, as I would rather her not grow up to work with them, but if it's a matter of her happiness, I will support her however I can.

"Come on, baby girl," I call to her. "We have one more stop to make, and then we can grab lunch from wherever you want. Sound good?"

"Coming, Mummy." She answers back, pulling her hands out of the water and waving to the Pokémon as it jumps into the air one more time, calling out to her as we leave.

We make our way further into the city, nodding to the people who greet me, either out of politeness or as someone who I've met. Though I live on Akala, a few of the islanders here know me from my time spent training at the Melemele General Hospital under my mentor's tutelage. I turn into just that very building with my daughter. Walking to the door, I find the automatic function has been turned off. I know we won't be allowed inside, what with the flu going around. Instead, I ring the large blue button and wait for an answer from the front desk.

"Welcome to Melemele General Hospital. Is this visit for General, Surgical, or Emergency?" The voice of a man buzzes pleasantly over the intercom.

"General," I answered.

"Please note; Due to the flu, at the current time, we are not allowing any admittance, but patient and staff." He says, then pauses for a moment. "Please state the nature of your business."

"Doctor Māhoe to see Doctor Ōpūnui regarding patient Ashoka, Kabir," I answer, growing impatient, despite knowing the man was only performing his job.

"One moment, please," The receptionist says, sounding unconcerned by my tone. The line goes silent for a short period. Himiko wiggles with boredom beside me, but she stays quiet as we wait for the voice to return.

"He'll be out in a few minutes." The intercom says, then silence once more.

The man wasn't wrong in his guess of timing as the old doctor appears by the door and pushes it open far quicker than I had anticipated. His appearance is more ragged than his normally well put together self, but I know yesterday's events took a more personal note for him and his family as well, what with Kukui's injury.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, he greets me with a polite "Doctor" and nods his head at me, a dark look behind his normal smile. "I arrived only just recently, but I have had a chance to look over everyone's charts. I've been wanting to speak to you as well," He tells me as he walks over; his medical assistant, a Comfey, floats serenely by his head.

Most medical professionals on the Islands of Alola have some type of Pokémon they use during their work. Ōpūnui had offered to bring me a creature of my choosing when I had finished my studies, but I had refused. Not only do my colleagues keep these beasts with them the whole time while working, but they also bring them home with them too. I do not desire to care for something like that at home after having it follow me around all day.

"I'm here to check on Kabir's condition," I say abruptly, trying to push the conversation on swiftly, not nearly as patient and loquacious as my old mentor. The senior doctor tends to ramble, and I just don't have the energy to deal with that today.

"Nothing has changed. All his vitals are normal, and his brain functions haven't differed." His usual smile fades at the start of a serious topic. We walk slowly over to a stand of trees casting shade over a bench and take a seat. "I actually just got off the phone with your sister. She sounds unwell." He adds with concern.

Himiko takes off running, having received a small toy from my bag. She bounces about, calling out to no one in particular, making use of the large grassy field in front of us, as she make-believes one scenario or another.

"That's not too abnormal for him," I respond, wanting to avoid the topic of Sashi at the moment and instead looking over to watch my daughter play, unconcerned by the somber conversation between the adults. The Comfey by the old doctor's head flies off to join her in the game.

"Though, he hasn't had an episode like this since we were children." I confess while I view the playing. "Before he learned to control his psychic abilities, he would be far sicker, far more often than he is now. An incident at school was what finally led us to learn that his powers had been causing his sickness. He's been keeping it under check for the most part since then. Yesterday was different, though. He's never, to my knowledge, tried to communicate with such a large group, especially with humans involved. And, well, you saw how he looked when he came in. I was certain we would lose him for a bit there."

"Does Sashi know that?" The older man asks, snatching my attention with a turn of his head, looking me in the eyes. "Does she know how worried you are about him?"

"No," I shake my head, closing my eyes from his searching gaze as shame floods through me. "I don't have the heart to tell her, but I think she realizes just how serious this is."

"I see." He says thoughtfully, pausing briefly before the simple phrase. Ōpūnui returns his gaze to the field once more before releasing a long, weary sigh. "I believe it would be wise to bring a specialist in."

I look up at these words, surprised at the swift decisions he's making here. It's not even been twenty four hours since the incident. Kabir has been incapacitated for far longer than that in the past, as his medical records would clearly show. No doctor has offered to bring someone in when he's fallen ill before now but would instead wait a few days to see if he wakes up, which, to this point, he always has.

"That's an awfully decisive choice to make so early in Kabir's treatment," I say, trying to search his gray eyes for a hint of an explanation.

"I have my reasons." He says simply, looking straight back at me, his serious expression now locked into place. Then he continues; "His charts show that he's been under the care of someone who is well qualified in this particular field. So, I think we should bring her in on their care this time."

Their care? The question flashes across my mind. It's not like the old healer to have a slip of the tongue, so I can only imagine there was something deeper behind those words. I push down the curiosity to ask, "This Doctor wouldn't happen to be from Johto, would she?"

"Yes, she is. Why? Is there a conflict of interest?" He asks, dropping his voice and looking at me scathingly. I don't blame him. My quick temper and sharp tongue have put me in trouble far more often than I'd care to admit.

"Not in the way you'd think," I answer. I pause and take a breath as the man in front of me raises a curious eyebrow. "That Doctor is Kabir's mother."