Tobame's Struggle – Chapter One
The double doors slid open as he approached the building, ready to start another day at work. Tobame was in his early thirties, a common clerical worker at Silph Co, and had spent his childhood under the old regime, before the Champion's restoration. Which meant that his childhood was spent stoning at home, with forays into the world of Pokemon forbidden. With no school to teach him other things as replacement like literature and economics, it unfortunately meant that the extent of Tobame's job opportunities came in the form of unskilled work and desk jobs. His pay was, as expected, meagre, and he was struggling to make ends meet at home. Naturally, he did not have the finances to support anyone other than himself, causing the loss of his dear parents to illness when they were barely sixty. Since the Champion's restoration, life expectancy had been rising, until it stood now at seventy-eight. Eighteen years lost with the parents who had brought him up as well as they could have under the conditions.
Sighing, Tobame entered the lift of the building, which had recently added a new wing to accommodate the flood of new arrivals coming straight from university. Silph's reputation still remained as good as ever, with its stature rising along with the rest of Kanto. Therefore, the brightest and most promising Pokemon trainers went to Silph Co to work part-time alongside their Pokemon exploits, where they earned a lucrative salary to finance their Pokemon career. The price of taking care of up to six Pokemon was increasing all the time, as raw materials like Carbos and Calcium dwindled in supply, causing their price to shoot up. Not to mention specific breeding arrangements to build for the future, making plans for their Pokemon career to continue after their first batch of Pokemon had grown old and feeble. Tobame felt envious and jealous of these people – as did most of the people of his age working in the company – but he knew that there was no way he could hope to match their level. The only way to increase his credentials was to get some recognition of being a Pokemon trainer, with the required skills to help the economy. While chances were technically open to the older generation, Tobame knew that there was no chance in hell that he could simply forsake his job, regardless of how little he was earning, and concentrate on a Pokemon career. Initially, to raise a Pokemon, a person needed to spend all his time available on it. When the Pokemon were mature enough to carry out pre-determined training regimes, the trainer could afford to take a break for half the day, where they would spend the time relaxing or at work.
Obviously, Tobame's savings were not even close to the required amount needed to start a Pokemon career. As he walked out of the lift, into the floor where his office – actually, more of a desk – was, Tobame felt a familiar sense of resentment at the Champion, despite his mind telling him that this was irrational. The Champion had, before his retirement after his third term had ended, caused several improvements to Kanto that were previously unknown to the nation. For one, he had set up a reliable education system that combined the two areas of Pokemon as well as academics seamlessly. Now children could start their education at the age of nine, where they went for four years of general schooling, which included normal subjects like language, mathematics and economics, as well as Pokemon lessons, both on theory as well as chances for practical learning. When they reached thirteen, they received survival courses as well as training on how to survive on their own in the Pokemon world, then were set free, left to their own devices for four years. While in theory, trainers could do ANYTHING during these four years, many of them went on an exploration of Kanto, returning to their hometown a few times to see their relatives. Those who were richer or more confident sometimes ventured out of Kanto to other countries, where wider varieties of Pokemon were available.
After they had turned seventeen, trainers were required to come back to a post-expedition finishing school, or university. There they received more formal education about general subjects, as well as taking part in Pokemon lessons and examinations with the Pokemon they had procured during their four-year adventure. After another four years of education, the students sat for both academic and Pokemon-based examinations – the latter was a battle against the city's Gym Leader – where they finally received certificates and records signed by the Gym Leaders. Those gave the students the qualifications required that allowed them to gain places in well-respected companies. Like Silph Co.
Also, the Champion had managed to mend relations with Johto and Hoenn, erasing the disastrous regime of the Gym Leaders. He had set Kanto's economy back on track again, as the country became more prosperous and the most developed country around. While Kanto was rich – in theory – before, most of the wealth was in the hands of the Gym Leaders. Now, again thanks to the Champion, the wealth was much more evenly distributed, and most families were well-off. Except mine, of course. The bitter voice of Tobame's soul spoke again, upset that he had fallen through the cracks of the welfare economic system.
The PokeStones were mended, and were now really a symbol of the city's population and growth. It was much like a state flag, and most people felt a sense of pride for their PokeStone. Ceremonies and celebrations were typically held in the open space around the PokeStone, which reinforced the national identity of Saffron and the other cities. Of course, the PokeStones still powered the city like they were supposed to. The Gym Leaders were now well-behaved, and ruled the cities in a kind and just manner. Sabrina was still the Gym Leader of Saffron, and her Psychic Pokemon were still formidable, but she usually held back against undergraduates, so trainers actually had a chance of passing their exams. Her marriage to one of the first trainers that had set forth under the new rule – and one of the best trainers Kanto had seen – had been just a few days before the Champion announced his retirement.
There was no denying that Kanto was now a much better place than it had been twelve years ago. Although the Champion had now been in retirement for two years, his successor – Sabrina's husband – had continued with much of the groundwork that he had laid out, and so the country was still progressing towards greatness. There was a blip during the Champion's fifth year where he seemed to have mysteriously disappeared, but he returned victorious, and garnered so much popular support that he was elected unanimously by the citizens for a third term. His own marriage followed, and everyone in Kanto wanted to attend his ceremony. In short, the Champion had been the main reason behind Kanto's revival, and most citizens of Kanto treated him like a hero. So why is it so hard to feel the same way? Obvious answer really. I stay in a mud hut on the outskirts of Saffron, while the younger generation stay in their fancy houses and boss me around at work. The older generation – they have children that benefited from the system, or will soon benefit from the system. Even those who fail their exams in university can get a decent-paying job as a trainer's assistant, or PokeMart salesman. My age group is the sole group that has remained poor. Of course I don't feel happy.
Tobame reached his desk. He had been occupying the same desk for the last fifteen years. He was completely sick of seeing its grey plastic material, with the frayed blue chair pushed in. He never viewed workdays with joy – it was just sheer necessity that made him work. His work was completely mundane, after all – typing out the transcripts of the meetings the top dogs had. The company secretary would attend these meetings, handwrite down the important points, and vet it with a team of deputies. Only after the minutes were done and everyone was satisfied with it could it go down to the clerks – in other words, him. His job was then to decipher the secretary's handwriting, complete with all the cancellations and additions that had resulted from the secretary's vetting, and type it out. Needless to say, there was very little cheer to be gained from the job.
Actually, Tobame thought that the sole reason why he was even allowed to continue working in Kanto's biggest company was the fact that he was very neat and organised. He had a rare talent for finding the documents his boss needed in the shortest time possible, and could somehow decipher the seemingly random scrawls made by the company secretary. What a great talent, Tobame. It'll allow you to go very far in this line of work. Oh wait, I think I've gone the furthest I can go using this talent already. Sigh.
Tobame sat down, then booted up his computer. At least his computer was the state-of-the-art model that all Silph employees owned, even those at the bottom of the food chain. Silph, after all, was now producing its own computers, attempting to break into the technology market, instead of just Pokemon products. However, its first year had ended in massive disappointment after consumers still preferred the smaller, but more established companies such as Apricot Inc. This meant that there was excess stock, which was promptly passed on to Silph's employees. However, regardless of how exciting the computer looked, and how smoothly it ran, it still failed to break the monotone of the job. Tobame had left work yesterday with the newest minutes almost finished. He aimed to finish the work before his lunch break today, where he could spend the afternoon more leisurely – answering calls for his boss and fetching relevant documents occasionally. Much better than poring over the incoherent blobs of ink that was supposed to be handwriting.
So Tobame put a lot of effort into the job. His brain turned the squiggles that would perplex any university graduate into meaningful words, and his fingers flew over the keyboard, using the free typing course Silph had conducted last year to full effect. At one hundred and twenty words a minute, the transcript of the meeting came to perfection slowly before his eyes. The minutes ticked by, but Tobame, for the moment, forgot his boredom and discontent, as he focused on finishing early so he could go off for an early lunch break, as well as enjoy the rest of the week off – before the next meeting was conducted, anyway. As he finished the last sentence ("The Chief Executive Officer concluded that the possible acquisition of Apricot Inc. was a profitable financial venture, but more funding was needed for the attempt due to loss of money last year due to the failed foray into the computer market.") he gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction. At times like this, on a good day, he could almost feel a sense of pride in his work. Almost.
Then his boss approached his desk. Only twenty-two, his boss was fresh out of Kanto University – the first and best university in the whole of Kanto, and possibly even the world. Despite having no prior experience, he was immediately catapulted into the position directly above Tobame, and commanded a substantial income – more than triple Tobame's, anyway. That wasn't very much; probably average for a Kanto University graduate, but he was always eligible for promotions. Unlike Tobame, of course – he would probably stay in his position until he won the lottery or died. His boss wasn't particularly nasty to him, and didn't try to make things difficult – along with the no-discrimination rules the Champion had drawn up – but Tobame always felt resentful whenever he was ordered around by his boss.
"Finished, Tobame?"
His boss was usually aloof and confident, knowing what he wanted all of the time. Yet Tobame noticed a little self-doubt in his voice this time, as if he was about to do something he didn't want to do, or dreaded doing. Tobame's heart sank. Some part of him knew that it was bad news. On giving a positive reply, his boss checked through the finished document, nodded his head, and then gave him the thumbs-up.
"Good job as usual, Tobame. I know you want to go for an early lunch, but first, you need to read this letter."
The same sense of uneasiness grew stronger in Tobame, as he received the white, nondescript letter with trembling hands. Somehow, he knew it wasn't news of the promotion he had been waiting for. Opening the envelope, he took the letter out and unfolded it. It was short and to the point.
Mr. Tobame,
Due to recent financial and technological developments, it is unfortunate that Silph Corporation is unable to support the amount of workers it has currently in its employ. Because of this, the company has decided to terminate your contract with immediate effect. You will receive three months' worth of pay as compensation. We apologise for the inconvenience. Thank you for contributing to Silph Corporation.
Chief Executive Officer
Silph Corporation
Tobame had finished the reading of the letter, but his eyes kept moving back to the top of the paper again, re-reading and re-reading. When he complained about being sick of his desk and chair, he didn't mean that he wanted to not see it for the rest of his life – not through this method, anyway. Funny, isn't it? I complain about this job, and dread coming to work every day, but when I'm removed of this responsibility – forcefully – I want to continue my previous lifestyle. Oh wait, it's not going to be very funny when I starve on the streets.
"Very unfortunate, Tobame, but under the meritocracy system, the company has been forced to retrench certain staff who are dispensable. The company has invented new devices that allow the company secretary to write his words on a touch-sensitive pad, which automatically translates his handwriting into type-written text. And, as you probably know, the company is saving its funds to take over rivals Apricot. Inc, to take control of the computer market. Therefore… please clear your desk and vacate the premises by the end of today."
The meritocracy policy. Another of the Champion's successful policies – in fact, it's now the cornerstone of the entire goddamn country. Makes perfect sense – no more getting employed through connections, or getting on someone's testicles so you can get some favours from the guy. It's again been put into place very well, and everyone is very happy with it. Including me, actually – until now.
Tobame clenched his fist and grit his teeth, as anger slowly consumed his disappointment and shock. He had been fired. Removed from his only duty, only income-making thing in life. All because of some technology improvements that had rendered his job obsolete. Obviously, regardless of how careful and organised he was, he could not hope to compete with a spanking new machine that automatically converted the secretary's squiggles into font within a fraction of a second. What made Tobame angry, taking off his tie and slamming it on the desk as he packed his belongings, was the knowledge that he was in this predicament not because of any fault or mistake of his. If he had gone to a proper school like everyone else, he would be able to get the needed qualifications to be sitting in a position higher than where his boss was now. But thanks to the reforms coming at a stupid time, he was doomed to a life of failure.
As Tobame strode out of the office for the last time, a cardboard box in his hand, heading for home, he had never felt so much hate for the Champion in his entire life. To hell with his stupid policies – the policies that has caused me so much pain! To hell with the Champion himself, actually – and everyone else that treats him like God! And his wife, and his unborn child, and every goddamn person that is related to him!
Go to hell, Temperance. Go to hell.