To Know One || (Fem) Reader Insert

4

The moon shined over the Highlands, the mountains gleaming against the darkened sky. The sky, littered in lights, refused to dim from the glow. Its never ending stars twinkled and danced, performing its own show for the night.

A lone figure sat atop a cliff watching the competition. She had her knees to her chest as she hugged them, the night's gentle breeze being the only other thing hugging her frame.

"Personally, I like the night best."

Her hands tightened their grip on her legs as a memory resurfaced, her chest to grew hot and suffocated as if she had been pressed down by a heavy weight, but how could there be so much weight with the wind that accompanies her?

She gasped for air as the pressure deepened. Her eyes glossed over, her thoughts and emotions spiraling downward from that single memory.

The memory that once was a reminder of her admiration.

—

Bothered.

If I were to describe what I've been feeling since I lost the plate, then it would be bothered.

Not only from the missing plate, but from the realization that I don't know much about Volo. Sure, we had our nice chats here and there, but I don't know what his drive is. Why he's so interested in the things he enjoys and what he plans to do with it now that we know that most of the myths he's studied were so far very much real and accurate; hence the plates. Now that we're collecting them, what happens if we do find them all?

I tied my satchel around my waist as I made for the training grounds in hopes of clearing my mind a bit while training my Pokémon for the trek to Alabaster Icelands where I would quell the final noble. I've already heard from others of how dangerous this one could be due to the noble's incredible size, and I hope they're not just exaggerating because of their horrific experiences with Pokémon in general. Regardless, my nerves are tense.

Walking up the steps to the training grounds, Zisu waved from afar in greeting, possibly excited to see me battle again. Making a mental note, I'll make sure to surprise her with new strategies so that she'll never grow bored of my techniques.

A few feet beside her stood Ingo, a warden of the Pearl Clan and, surprisingly, a person who is in a similar state of mine. Perhaps too similar, if you ask me. He must've been here for a lot longer due to his status, but it's as if he only came yesterday. Every now and then I would hear the not-so-quiet villagers chatting about the warden, though often times about different aspects of him.

The man in the tattered coat and hat. He had unique mannerisms referring to a familiar object that existed in his time—possibly ours—and was incredibly skilled with Pokémon. His silver eyes were tired and constantly clouded but would occasionally brighten after a battle. He acted upon muscle memory and was always patient and polite.

When he noticed me approaching, his hand rose to adjust his hat in greeting.

"Good morning, miss (Y/n). How are you today?"

Though he always spoke and exchanged knowledge of what he knew, he always seemed like he wasn't truly here. His eyes displayed his distance, his empty mind being his fixed thought in attempt to remember something, anything, from his past.

And truly, I felt with him.

We were the only two to fall out of the rift, and I'm surprised to notice that we have rarely exchanged words of advice or our experiences of our lives here in Hisui. Probably not much to say, but I would still be interested in what he thinks or has to say about our predicament.