A/N: Hello! This is my first submission and first time writing Pokemon fic, so reviews and concrit are highly appreciated. Definite end-of-game spoilers and some guy-on-guy kissing, so if you're sensitive to either, I don't recommend reading on. I don't claim to own any aspect of Pokemon; don't sue me.

It isn't more than a matter of days after the fall of Team Plasma before Zekrom becomes unruly.

Black ignores the behavior, at first; he assumes that the Pokemon is simply expelling some primordial energy it's managed to build up over the many years it has been slumbering, or that perhaps the excitement of overcoming its other half after centuries hasn't worn off.

If he gave it much thought, both are immensely condescending to infer about the subject of legends – Black can hear N's voice now, telling him that he ought to try listening to what the Pokemon is actually trying to say – but his mind is so absorbed in the state of various other affairs that he doesn't know what else to do about the situation. Team Plasma hasn't left Unova without a legacy, after all, and it seems sometimes that he ought to be on International Police payroll by this point for how much assistance he's given in tracking down the stray Plasma sages.

Then there's the matter of N's whereabouts, though Black is hardly seeking N for Looker's sake so much as his own.

For closure, of course.

All in all, for the first week or so Black regards Zekrom's apparent unease as a passing thing, simply because he knows no better.

Time, however, does not fix the situation.

Eventually Black can ignore the whims of the Pokemon no more, who struggles in its pokeball during nearly all hours of the day and only proceeds to stomp around in a rage when let out. Thus he sets aside a day for what he tells Cheren over Xtransceiver is "conflict resolution." By this, he means letting the behemoth out of its pokeball and hoping the problem and a resolution will at some point become apparent.

White Forest is his location of choice for the exercise, for the simple reason that it's a relatively large area and thus suitable to accommodate the legendary dragon.

Though morning dew still hangs humid in the air and clings to the grass at his feet, and the sun is hardly creeping through the gaps in the canopy above, the forest is stirring with life. A few Wurmple and Pidgey scurry away at the sight of Zekrom, while Slakoth on the branches above snooze, blissfully unaware of the dragon below.

The Pokemon is as quiet as one its size can be once it's out in the open, simply shifting in the spot where its pokeball landed and looking up at the treetops. Black stands just as silent, feeling as inexperienced as he did when he received his first Pokemon. In a way, the Pokemon and its master mirror one another, each apparently unsure of how to proceed and expectant for the other to make a move.

Insecurity creeps into Black's chest. He's always thought he can empathize with Pokemon fairly well. There's always an unwavering, mutual sense of trust between he and his Pokemon; they're at the same time friends, partners, and equals.

He wonders if, perhaps, Zekrom's previous trainer was more skilled. It recognized him as a hero, though, didn't it?

Was man simply not meant to train such a creature?

Staring up at Zekrom, Black can't help but remember N. Sure, there isn't much nowadays that doesn't conjure thoughts of the green-haired male, but everything he's heard about speaking to Pokemon seems slightly less absurd and more poignant than ever now.

It can't hurt, after all. "H-hey," Black says, tentatively reaching out to place a hand on the beast's leg. Its red eyes gaze down at him. Surprisingly given his insecurities about the Pokemon, he detects no judgment in Zekrom' s stare; he's doesn't know what he's supposed to detect in its stare, honestly, but it's not malicious. "Heh, what's up?"

He feels like an idiot.

"Listen," Black says, trying a different approach. "I know you've been asleep for awhile, and before that, all you did is fight someone else's battle. It's gotta be weird, not fighting anymore…"

Black scratches the back of his head. He isn't quite sure what he's getting at; the idea of conversing with a Pokemon is awkward to say the least, so the only words that feel natural and not forced are the ones that come to mind as he's saying them.

"I mean, you were ready to destroy the world over an argument about how to rule it, and now it's all over." The memory of Zekrom felling Reshiram – Black had to call back the behemoth nearly as soon as its alabaster counterpart hit the ground out of fear that he would take the next step further and kill the Pokemon – is still vivid in his mind.

"Then again, do you even know what you were fighting for? No one really did ask you if you wanted to fight, did they?"

For a split second, gazing up at the Pokemon before him, Black completely understands why N was trying so hard to work for liberation; he doesn't entirely agree, but he understands.

In that split second, Zekrom takes the opportunity to move, in one swift motion reaching a long arm down to pluck up its trainer and toss him haphazardly onto its back.

"H-hey!"

And with that, the Pokemon is airborne.

Black is confronted immediately with an upsetting revelation; somewhere between empathizing with whom he long regarded as his rival and being manhandled by his Pokemon, he dropped its pokeball. With no other method of restraining Zekrom and not suicidal in the slightest, he does what he can to hold on and waits for the Pokemon to descend.

It's nighttime before that happens.

XXX

The island on which they land is one that Black has never seen before in his life; it's rocky and unnaturally warm, and when Black finally stumbles onto land and gains his bearings, looking over at Zekrom as if the Pokemon can give some kind of explanation is just as fruitless as one might expect.

Its tail suddenly glows blue, crackling with electricity, and it gives a low growl, assuming its battle stance that Black has only seen twice before. "There's no one here!" he shouts up at the monster, finding no end to his frustration with the dragon. Looking down to the Xtransceiver on his wrist in hopes of calling anyone who could potentially help, Black's dismayed to find the island offers little when it comes to signal.

"As I suspected."

The voice that he hears from the darkness is surprisingly familiar, and fortunately comes bearing a flashlight. "N?"

"Zekrom is upset," N observes when he's closer to the brunet, gray eyes looking the creature up and down. It roars in response, triggering nothing more than a raised brow from N while Black flinches. Before Black can defend himself, assert that it is by no means his fault that the monster is unhappy, he says, "It's alright. Reshiram hasn't been at ease, either."

"Please tell me you know what's going on," he replies, tone sounding more defeated than Black intended. A day of flying has taken its toll on both the body and mind of the brunet, and more than anything he wishes he could understand why the day's played out like this.

"I have a hypothesis," N replies curtly, still giving the charcoal, glowing Pokemon a critical look. Black has to bite his lip to keep back a remark like, 'Oh, well, thank Arceus you have a hypothesis,' though it's significantly easier once N laces his fingers through Black's own and says, "Come here," leading him through the darkness to a few smooth, flat rocks and sitting, pulling Black down beside him.

Black waits, but N is apparently taking his time elaborating on...anything.

"What are you doing this far away from Unova, N?" Black asks once the silence can be tolerated no more, genuinely curious considering most of the sages opted to hide within the region. His automatic inclination, then, is to assume liberation-related motives.

"As I mentioned, Reshiram hasn't been content since we battled. There's a fire-type specialist near here who is rumored to be highly intelligent, and I sought him to discover the root of the problem." A frown twitches across N's lips. "Unfortunately, he was not able to be of much help, but..." N trails off, again watching Zekrom, which is inspecting the area carefully, as if it knows more than the sitting pair.

"But?"

"But I've been thinking about it myself." He pauses, the only sounds hanging in the salty air of the island those of the waves and Zekrom. It takes N a curiosity-filled moment, but he eventually speaks again, his rate of speech as quick as ever. "The fire specialist I spoke of trains east of here, in a pair of twin islands. I think it's interesting that nature seems to prefer dualities. Creation and destruction, purity and impurity, good and evil, life and death; it's all set in binary opposition.

"The universe couldn't do without the other, could it? Without evil, there would be no good. Life would mean nothing without death."

"The truth and the ideal," Black says, his voice small as his gaze shifts to Zekrom.

N makes a sound of agreement, and continues. "Zekrom defeated Reshiram, but I still have my beliefs, and you, yours. The argument's at an end, but it hasn't been settled. The truth and the ideal will never destroy the other. I think...I think Zekrom and Reshiram have begun to realize this, too."

As if that's all there is to talk about, N stands with a sigh. "Wait, that's it?" Black says, abruptly following suit and rising to his feet, ready to follow him if necessary.

"Why do you think Zekrom took you here? They're not happy being two halves of a whole, Black," he says, his tone edged with derision aimed not at the brunet, but himself; having heard it in the roars of Zekrom only cements for N that he must be no better than those trainers who treat their Pokemon as objects, tools of war. A tool to advance his own cause.

Black is speechless; he frowns over at Zekrom, and reaches into his bag, which has somehow remained slung over his shoulder throughout the day, for an extra pokeball. N waits as he approaches the Pokemon.

The new insight equates out to Black hardly able to look at it as he tosses the pokeball in its direction; Zekrom doesn't struggle once it's in the sphere, allowing him to pick the small capsule up and pocket it.

XXX

Though Black is exhausted, he's awake into the early hours of morning that night, sitting beside the fire at N's makeshift campsite with the male and, after N prepares food for the two, simply talking. The topic never strays back into the subject of the two legendary dragons that night, as neither has anything close to a solution to the problem in mind.

"We've managed to track down most of the remaining sages so far, if you were wondering," Black tells N as the night closes, taking off his cap and setting it beside him to scratch his head, unsure of the reaction he ought to expect at the information. Somehow he's not surprised that N shows little trace of emotion. "Ghestsis is on the run, though."

N stares into the fire after Black adds the bit about his father, only glancing down to pick at the edges of his sleeves; he knows that looking at the younger male could easily cause some emotion to slip through the cracks – weakness.

"O-oh, oh Arceus, I'm sorry," Black says abruptly, realizing his mistake too late.

"For what?" N says. Denying that Ghetsis's actions mean anything to him seems to be the best course; human emotions are messy to become involved in. "It's late," he observes, voice flat, rising. "I'll lay out the extra sleeping bag."

Considering all of N's efforts to stave away really opening up to Black, it seems as if he is either truly devoted to undermining them or incredibly oblivious, because he catches N's sleeve as the green-haired man turns to exit and wraps him in a firm embrace. Sighing, N plants a light kiss on the top of his head in the hope it will assuage the brunet before Black turns his head up to say, "No one deserves what he did you, but...I think even more than that, no one ought to have to get over it alone."

"I'll live," he replies calmly, shoving Black away from him in more ways than one.

Regret doesn't hesitate to leave his chest tight and throat in knots.

XXX

When Black wakes the next day, only the sounds of the ocean and N's even breathing from a few feet away can be heard. Turning, he sees the green-haired man has yet to wake up. Black decides to take advantage of the opportunity.

Extricating himself from the sleeping bag, he digs through his bag for a pen and piece of paper to write N a quick note, and a few pokeballs to hook to his belt.

'Going to the mainland for awhile to find a phone and supplies.

Black'

Wherever the mainland is. Black spends an hour or two clutching the back of his Samurott, going directly north, before spotting some kind of land.

The place on which they land turns out to be a quiet, sleepy-looking little town that Black only discovers is called Pallet until he spots a sign. Especially considering it's an oceanside town, he can't help but be reminded of Nuvema.

XXX

Black flies back to the island after speaking to both Bianca and Cheren (he tells neither the complete truth – okay, he tells no portion of the truth to either friend), finding for good supplies he would be forced to venture to a nearby city and in no way that desperate.

"I've been speaking to Reshiram," N, who is sitting beside the campfire preparing lunch, says once Black has called Braviary back to its pokeball. The statement prompts an inquisitive look from Black, which is answered in a matter of moments. "It isn't sure that the two can be put back together." Little emotion lies behind the words, and when Black sits beside him, N doesn't look his way.

"I'm sure there's a way," Black lies, offering a shaky smile.

N is filled to the brim with self-loathing; this is his fault, after all. If he hadn't resurrected Reshiram, if he hadn't left Black with the only option of summoning Zekrom, if he hadn't done any of this, everything would be different.

"Do you remember what I said about dualities?" N receives a nod. He adjusts the pan their food is cooking on idly before going on. "I think you'd agree humans and nature are conflicting forces – take this island, for example. You wouldn't know from looking at it, but this place was once a mecca of human-created technology. Humanity didn't guess at the time that the volcano they built their city upon was active; I'm sure you can imagine the eventual outcome."

Black swallows hard. Though he's relatively sure he knows what N is getting at, he hardly wants to hear it said aloud.

"The universe doesn't seem to allow one side to win, but that does not exclude the probability of battle scars. Reshiram, Zekrom...they're casualties of a conflict they never should have had to fight in the first place."

When Black says, "I understand," N is nothing short of shocked; all prior knowledge has lead him to believe the male next to him would take a stand on the opposite side of the ideological spectrum, just as he's always done – perhaps try to argue that the Pokemon seem aware of what they're fighting for, for example.

In regard to understanding, it helps that Black knows N carries a few battle scars of his own.

The fire crackles, and neither man speaks for a long time. Black only breaks the silence to say, "Nothing is completely black or white, N. If we can't fix things, we can always take a step in the right direction."

Unfortunately, Black is given no opportunity just yet to explain what he means, as N has leaned over and taken his chin to give the brunet a fervorous kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, letting one hand tangle through N's mess of green hair and indeliberately knock his cap off while the other comes to rest on his knee. Heat rises in his chest as N wraps both arms around Black to pull him closer, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together.

"What was that for?" Black only questions when he must break contact for air.

The answer N gives neglects to mention his realization that Black might be the only human he's come close to liking, let alone trusting – he can hardly admit that to himself just yet. He doesn't mention the flash of panic he received upon waking up that morning and noticing Black was missing. Above all else, he certainly doesn't mention how deeply he regrets not letting Black in, nor how frightened he is of the prospect even now.

No, his answer is almost self-referential in its aptness: "A step in the right direction."

XXX

Black releases Zekrom on the foamy shores of the island early the next morning while N does the same on higher ground; they've agreed to release the pair at the same time.

Neither Black nor N are under any illusion that releasing the Pokemon is a definite solution, but it's the closest they can find to anything satisfactory – they've interfered too much as it is, and this way, Reshiram and Zekrom can find some sort of resolution free from human intervention. Besides, N finds the idea of keeping Reshiram trapped in a pokeball to be akin to rubbing salt in an open wound; Black, on the other hand, realizes keeping Zekrom from its missing piece isn't right, and trusts the Pokemon to return if it needs its hero.

Their goodbye is short; both trainer and Pokemon understand the necessity of the situation and have accepted it.

"Stay out of trouble," Black says with a chuckle, looking up at Zekrom. This time, he finds it much less awkward to speak directly to the beast. It gives a non-menacing growl in reply; lowering its head to Black's level.

He pats its snout before murmuring an apology, at which point Zekrom's tail whirs to life loudly as if in response. It lifts his head again and looks to the clear sky; Black follows its gaze to where the Pokemon's counterpart hovers above, apparently waiting for its other half.

With only a single parting glance to Black, the Pokemon takes to the air.

XXX

Interestingly enough, N and Black hear rumors of one black and one white Pokemon spotted flying north-east of Lacunosa Town within the week.