Chapter Text
Shuppet is a spherical Pokémon that appears to be covered by a gray cloth. Black rings surround its multicolored eyes, which have light-blue sclerae, dark-blue irises, and yellow pupils. Occasionally, it will display a large, pink tongue. Extending from the top of its head is a long, pointed horn. The horn collects the negative emotions of people, on which this Pokémon feeds. The emotions it feeds on include anger, jealousy, and envy, so some people are grateful for its presence. A nocturnal Pokémon, it will appear in swarms beneath the eaves of houses with negative people. It is most commonly found in cities and other urban settings.
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It was snowing, and the boy was cold.
He shivered, and it was a violent thing that wracked his body from head to toe. His head smacked the almost-warm wall of the house behind him and for a moment he saw stars.
The boy brought his hands up to his mouth, exhaling what warmth he could onto them. If there was any warmth in his breath anymore. He couldn’t feel it if there was. He put his hands back under his armpits and there wasn’t any warmth there either. Were his hands that numb or was his blood that cold?
Another shudder seized him and he closed his eyes while he waited for it to pass. It took him so much energy to open his eyes again when it passed, but when he finally managed it he was glad he had.
The Shuppets were back.
There were five of the shy spirits this time, more than he’d ever seen at once before. They were small flickering balls of gray haze the size of his head , barely visible in the porch light of his home. The only clearly visible parts of them were their eyes. Such pretty eyes. Yellow pupils in the middle, then a dark blue iris, then light blue sclera. Five pairs of eyes regarded him from above, hiding under the eaves of the porch.
“H-h-h-hhhh,” the shivers went deep into his chest, making it hard to speak. He forced it out anyway, “Hhhhh-hey there, lllll-ll-little uh-ones. Hh-hhhhow are you?”
One of the Shuppets, bigger than the others and almost the size of his chest, drifted hesitantly closer. It froze at a sudden thud from inside the house, followed by raised voices.
“Hhhhh-he-he-hhhh-he,” the boy chuckled. “Ddd-don’t worry. They’re jjjj-” he tried to wrap his clumsy mouth around the word ‘just’ and found he couldn’t, “p-p-pissed at me. I ffff-fucked up. K-k-k-k-kinda bad.”
The biggest Shuppet, the one he’d known longest, hesitated. It didn’t come closer.
“No! Nnnn-no! D-d-don’t worry, D-d-d-d,” he struggled on the name he’d given it before managing to spit it out, “Diya.” He’d heard it meant ‘oil lamp’, somewhere far away. The name fit, he thought. This Shuppet’s eyes had always glowed more than the others, flickering with some inner light. Just like how he imagined an oil lamp would look.
The boy shuddered again, muscles going so tight it hurt before all going loose at once. He was so tired. Who knew shivering could be so exhausting?
“Shhuu?”
The boy opened his eyes again - when had he closed them? - and looked back up. Diya was floating closer to him now, a hint of a wispy pink tongue showing as it opened its mouth.
“Shhuu?” it whispered again, quiet and inquiring.
What had he been saying? It was … it was … another thump sounded from inside his home. Oh. Right. Right. “You d-d-d-don’t have t-t-t-ttttto wo-worry,” the shivering was suddenly back and he struggled to speak, “Ddddd-diya. Weeeee-we’re fine out here. I’m just gonna- gonna stay out hhhhhh-here. ‘ntil ttthhhhh-th-th-they’re not so pissed. Mmmm’kay? ‘s’fine.”
Diya drifted closer, until the floating gray spirit was almost touching his head. “Shu?” it asked.
The boy nodded convulsively. “Pl-” his voice cracked and it had nothing to do with cold. “Please.”
The Shuppet closed its eyes and a stubby wisp of gray horn began to appear on its head. If the boy concentrated - and it was so hard to concentrate, why was it so hard to concentrate? - he could see wisps of shadow flowing out of his head into the steadily solidifying horn.
Instantly the boy felt his body relax. He was still shivering, but a mountain of tension flowed out of him. The weight of the screaming and yelling, the fear for what was waiting for him, the resentment that it was always like this -that it always had to be like this- left him. Sucked up into that lovely little pokemon’s horn.
“Shhhuuuuuuuup,” it murmured. It sounded almost like a slurping noise, and the boy couldn’t help but laugh.
And wasn’t that a wonder. A real genuine laugh. “Ha, ha-ha, hhh-hahahaha.” The shivering boy smiled up at Diya. This was why he loved the Shuppets. For a little while they could make the world feel less awful. They couldn’t really make him be happy, his teachers said they only fed on bad emotions rather than giving good feelings. But sometimes the world seeming a little less awful was all he needed to be happy.
One of his teachers had taken him aside once, asked him about the Shuppets that always hung around under the eaves of his family’s porch after the sun went down. Asked him if they were a problem. Hah. He’d never said no so fast to anything in his life. The shy little spirits were the best thing in his life.
“Pe”, Diya sighed as it finished its meal. Its horn was so full it almost looked solid, shiny and reflective rather than wispy and transparent.
“Tthhhh-th-thanks, D-diya,” the boy murmured. “I …” he blinked slowly, shook his head, “I needed that.” His body gave one more convulsive teeth-chattering shudder before relaxing again, too tired to keep up the effort. This time when he stopped shivering, it didn’t start back up again.
Diya’s eyes twisted. The little spirit almost looked worried. “Shuppet?” it murmured.
“Mmm. Just … j’s tired. Had a long … long day.” A few long days. He hadn’t slept at all the night before. Not much the night before that either. Hard to, with all the screaming. Hard to even after the screaming stopped.
Maybe he’d get to sleep tonight though. He was so tired.
The Shuppet darted about his head, like it was worried about something. “Sshhhuuu!” it cried. “Sshuu!”
“Mmmm? Wh’ ‘s it?”
It darted in closer than it ever had before, licking his forehead with an insubstantial pink tongue. It felt like being licked by mist.
The boy opened his eyes in surprise, delight bubbling up from somewhere deep under the tiredness. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “Oh,” he whispered quietly.
“Shhhuuuu!” it cried again. From behind it he heard similar murmured cries from the other four smaller Shuppets, still tucked away in their hiding spots under the porch’s eaves. Diya darted in to lick him again, catching his ear, his chin, his lips, his nose, even brushing its insubstantial tongue over his eyes.
“Hehehehehe,” the boy giggled. “Ssst-,” he yawned, “ssstop it.” It tickled when Diya’s unreal mist caught him on his lips or his eyes. He looked up, his eyes just barely managing to focus on the Shuppet’s. They were so pretty. Wide yellow pupils, a barely-there dark blue iris, and a light blue sclera.
“Shu! Shu, shu, shu, shu, shu!!!”
“Hey? Diya? Did I ever tell you? ‘m gonna be a pokemon trainer one day.”
“Shuuuu!” The frantic spirit rushed at his head, tickling him as its wispy body parted around his face. Even the seemingly solid horn parted around him like so much mist.
“‘m gonna leave here. G’nna … g’nna walk on out. Get as far away as I can.” The boy’s eyes watered. “Not g’nna miss anything here. ‘cept you. I-” the boy sniffled, eyes drifting shut, “I’d really miss you.”
“Sshhuuu,” the Shuppet whispered. It tried to move the boy again by flying at his head, but the effort was half-hearted.
The boy’s eyes weren’t opening anymore, but he tried to lift his head to look at Diya anyway. “Hey. Would you … would you …” his mind drifted. What was he saying again?
Diya licked his cheek softly. “Shuppet?” it murmured.
The boy stirred. Oh. Right. He’d been about to ask a question. A really important one. “Would- would you come with me? When I leave here?” He didn’t know if he’d be able to do it alone. The boy sniffled. “Pl-please?”
“Shu.” Diya licked the boy, right on the bridge up his nose and up to his forehead.
“Oh. Good. Tha- tha’s good.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. But good tears. With Diya around they couldn’t possibly be any other kind.
The boy was quiet for a while after that, as Diya licked his cheeks and pressed its wispy body up against his head. His chest rose a little less with each breath. The tear trails on his face and neck slowly iced over. If there was any noise still coming from inside the house, he couldn’t hear it. And if there was any worry inside of him, Diya and its horn made sure it never touched his heart.
One last time, the boy spoke. It was barely a whisper. “Diya? Are you there?”
“Shu.”
“Good. That’s … good.”
The boy smiled.