When The Sun Sets (Moon X Gladion)

The Rising Sun

To Moon Orion's dismay, the bird Pokémon still sang the next morning. Their songs filtered through the window of her dust-ridden bedroom, waking her up each morning at dawn. She tried everything to shut them out, like pressing pillows against the window sill and sleeping in the basement, everything short of marching outside and silencing them herself, but they still sang.

To her detriment, the wind whistled as well. She shuddered every time the breeze plucked at the stitches now trailing her arms, seeking to cover them, to push the thought of them out of her racing mind.

Across the river, the fish still jumped and flopped about, breaching from the waves and diving back into the depths below.

In the city, people still flocked. They laughed, and clocked in for work, and went home, and ate dinner, and kissed their families, and said goodnight to their children. They lived. They breathed.

The Earth still moved, and the sun still rose. It was almost as if Lucario's death hadn't occurred at all. The thought of it made Moon want to scream. It teared at her insides, swallowing her whole. Had she still had the energy in her, she would have shouted at the anyone who dared to cast a smile her way. However, she couldn't. Some days, she couldn't even raise her voice above a whisper.

They chose to not bury him beside her brother, whose body lay by the old birch tree looking over Cerulean City's cemetery. Instead, the pokémon was creamated and transported to a honey terracotta urn– Moon picked it out because it was Lucario's favorite color. From there, he would be taken to Alola with her. It was better that way; Moon preferred for him to be buried beside her, no matter where her body was destined to draw out its final breath.

A few hours after the urn was handed to her, Hau nearly hesitated to ask when the funeral was going to be. Moon thought about it, shrugged, and stated it would be sometime after they made it back to Alola. More people knew the young Pokémon over there. Far more people than in Kanto, anyway. And, if Moon had any say in the matter at all (which she did), she was prepared to invite every one she could think of to the funeral.

No, she thought. Not just a funeral. Lucario deserves an entire parade.

Eventually, however, Hau convinced her to do a little something before they left Kanto.

"Just something small so your father and Green can attend," he reasoned with her.

It didn't take much for her to agree, and a couple days later, they were standing at a park in Cerulean City. The cemetery was so close that Moon could see it just over yonder. She choked back a cry and looked away, focusing her vision on a priest holding a small script of paper. Her father stood beside her, holding her hand as though she were only a little girl. His gaze had not softened as the weeks went by, and she could still remember the way he looked at the teens when they finally arrived home. The way he crumpled to his knees and held her and the broken Pokémon. The way he admitted to knowing about Mewtwo's plan, claiming he couldn't get involved for fear of the beast killing them all. The way he begged for forgiveness. The way he sobbed and wailed.

The way he pulled himself back together and took the teens into his home. The way he lugged out the first aid kit and cleaned their wounds. The way he glued them back together with thread and a needle. The way he drove Lucario's body to the mortician and sent Moon pictures of urns so she could handle things her way: in silence. The way he brought her breakfast and gave her hugs.

The way he became a father again.

Standing to Moon's left, Gladion held her other hand. He had kissed it gingerly shortly before the ceremony started, which she took as a wordless confession of his condolences. Now, he just squeezed her hand every now and again as if to say: "I'm still here. I love you, and I'm here."