It was a slow day. Shiri leaned against the counter, her gaze on the fluffy clouds which floated in the sky outside the Poké Mart window. The Viridian City gym leader was out of town, so there weren't any gym challenges going on—and as a result, very few trainers were stopping by the Poké Mart to stock up on supplies. Oh, she might get a couple people in to grab poké ball, or maybe a junior trainer here and there about to tackle their first attempt crossing the Viridian Forest, but they were rather few and far between in her long shift.

Shiri had finished stocking the shelves on Tuesday; it was now Thursday. The shelves were dust-free, the till was counted and double-counted, and the supply orders were set in the computer system. Everything was in order. And she had absolutely nothing to do.

Her mind crawled over the things she'd rather be doing with her time: reading that new thriller that had just come out and was sitting on her desk, ready for her to come home to; going out to the Happy Chansey with Ashton once the sun was down; binging her favorite cozy murder mystery series for the umpteenth time. The potentiality of her hobbies was just out of reach, as she still had four hours before she could conceivably close up shop.

The buzz of the automatic door sliding open came to Shiri's ears, and she snapped her attention from the window to the customer which had just walked in. An adult, someone maybe just a few years older than Shiri herself. He was tall, full-figured, his shadow darkening the whole doorway as he passed through it.

"Hey, there," Shiri greeted in her customer service-specified friendly tone. "Anything I can help you with?"

The man did not answer. His eyes were shielded by a pair of dark sunglasses, and he made no move to take them off. He beelined to the shelf which held all the poké balls that Poké Mart location stocked, his hand reaching to the small box of ultra balls. Shiri watched as he collected the two dozen or so he desired. He was blond, his hair long enough to be tied back into a small tail at the base of his skull. He was dressed like a trainer, despite his age: black hiking boots, khaki cargo shorts, a short-sleeved black button-down shirt, and black gloves. A plain black backpack was slung over one wide shoulder. It looked almost too small for his broad, stocky body.

Shiri wondered if he was a street battler; they weren't terribly common in Viridian, more common to the bustling cities like Saffron, where they might have a decent chance at making a living.

The man moved to the counter with surprising fluidity considering his size. As Shiri counted the number of ultra balls he had placed on the counter, he took notice of some prepackaged snack bars which were stocked beside the till, impulse-provoking items meant to boost sales. It worked on this man, as he placed three beside his haul of balls.

"Passing through town?" Shiri asked after reporting the total on the register. The man did not answer but pulled out a few bills and handed them to her. He opened his pack and swiped his items inside as Shiri made change. He nodded a gesture of thanks, turned, and left the store. Shiri watched him until he was beyond the view of the windows, then sighed again and laid her head down on the counter.

The end of the day finally came, and Shiri closed down the Poké Mart in record time. She was locking up and shoving her keys into her pocket not five minutes after the closing time listed on the front door.

The sun was low in the sky by that time; it was mid-fall, and the air had just started to turn chilly in the evenings while still feeling stiflingly warm during the height of the day. Shiri didn't have a jacket, and she rubbed at her exposed shoulders as she headed toward the back of the Poké Mart to throw away one small bag of wastepaper.

She turned the corner and was stopped in her tracks when she spotted the man who had come in earlier. He was standing still beside the dumpster, his hands at his side, his body still except for drawing breath.

Shiri glanced around; they were alone. Viridian was a small town, and toward the evening, there weren't many people around, especially when there weren't any gym challenges to go to. She didn't like this. The man may have been halfway good-looking, but anyone standing conspicuously behind a Poké Mart was suspicious, and not someone Shiri wanted to be alone with.

He didn't seem to have noticed her, and so Shiri quickly turned and headed back the way she had come, but this movement must have caught his attention. She heard his quick footfalls behind her, and she turned to find him right behind her, and this startled her.

He still wore his sunglasses despite the low light from the setting sun, and Shiri could not see his eyes through them. But he smiled then and held out his hand in a non-threatening way. Despite outward appearances, something was very off. Shiri got a feeling coming from the guy that put her on edge, an instinctual feeling of danger. He radiated this energy like a horrible aura.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound calm, falling back into her customer service voice. "Can I help you with something?"

He still did not speak, but only cocked his head to the side like a growlithe might when you scold it, and it doesn't understand you. She wondered distantly if there was something going on with him—maybe he was nonverbal or something.

Whatever he was waiting for, he seemed to realize Shiri would not give it to him, and so, still smiling, he grasped onto her arm. Shiri screamed as she struggled against his strong grasp, and she drew back the garbage bag in her hand and slammed it into his face. It was only filled with discarded receipts and small bits of cardboard, so it wouldn't hurt him at all, but she was hoping to at least startle him into letting go.

This didn't work, however; the man held fast, that smile still in place, and Shiri screamed again. She was in the clutches of a crazy man.

"Houndoom, Take Down!" a masculine voice cried out. Shiri, panicked, could not tell from where it came, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw a big, black houndoom connected with the man who held onto her. His grasp immediately gave way as he was brought to the pavement by the pokémon, and Shiri could only stare in disbelief as she watched the man struggle against the houndoom.

He was changing, his form becoming less defined and almost squishy in appearance. A strong hand on her shoulder brought Shiri to her senses, and she looked to her left to see the man again—except he did not wear any sunglasses, and there was no creepy smile plastered on his face.

Shiri tried to form words, but the man simply gave her a light push behind him. "Get out of here, miss," he said to her, his gaze on the scuffle before them. "Houndoom, Crunch," he commanded to the pokémon in the brawl. He spoke with a Galarian accent.

Raising her hands to her mouth, Shiri watched as the houndoom bit down upon the other creature. It had changed form now; it was smaller, darker, more slender, more feminine. Shiri gasped as she realized the creature was trying to take her form.

"Wh-what is that?!" she cried, pressing her back against the wall of the Poké Mart.

"Crunch again," the man commanded calmly. The houndoom obeyed loyally, and the creature cried out in an inhuman voice, it thrashes slowing down. The man held up an ultra ball in his left hand, the center button glowing an odd color. Shiri could not conceive of why she hyper focused on that detail. She had sold various kinds of poké balls for years. The center button was usually white, and it would glow red when it was in the process of catching a pokémon. There weren't any other colors in the button, to Shiri's knowledge.

But this ultra ball's button glowed a deep purple color.

"Back off," the man commanded, and the houndoom released its hold on the creature and moved away. The man threw the ball, and it sailed through the air with impressive speed before it hit the target. The creature was sucked into the ball, which landed lightly on the concrete and shook with mild resistance. The purple faded from the button's display, and the ball went still.

He walked over and picked the ball up, and Shiri let out a deep, shaking breath. "Oh my god," she whispered to herself, forcing herself away from the wall at last. She caught the man looking at her, and she felt her neck and cheeks grow warm in undeserved embarrassment. "Thank you," she said quickly.

The man was quiet, only watching her. His eyes bore into her, his wide jaw set, and for a moment, Shiri was certain she was about to be scolded. Finally he turned away and, returning his houndoom to its regular poké ball, started to walk away.

"Hold on," Shiri said, hurrying after him. "What exactly was all that?" He did not respond, but only quickened his pace. She reached out and placed a hand on his thick forearm, and that caused him to halt suddenly in his tracks and turn his furious gaze on her.

"Don't," he growled, and Shiri dropped her hand and backed away. "It was a ditto, okay?"

"Ditto?" Shiri repeated, having never seen a ditto successfully replicate a human's appearance quite like that. The man continued on his way, his pace even quicker now. Shiri knew it would be foolish to continue, but that was not a satisfying answer at all. "What kind of ditto was that?"

"Just a ditto," he said, annoyance plain in his voice.

They turned onto a busier street. The sun had sunk into the horizon, and the streetlamps had turned on. He was walking in the opposite way to Shiri's home.

"Well, may I at least know your name?" she asked, slowing to a stop. The man paused, seeming to consider his answer.

"Simon," he finally said.

Shiri smiled. "Thank you, Simon," she said. "Thank you for saving me from a ditto." She put an emphasis on the "ditto" which made it clear that she did not believe Simon's story at all.

He only gave a nod in response and continued on his way. Shiri turned back to head home, rubbing at her shoulders again. She didn't feel the chill of the air, but her skin was prickled with goosebumps.