II

Shiri was home before her mother. Briony, her mom's pet nidoran, ran over to Shiri as she walked in the front door. Shiri smiled and scratched Briony under her chin before stepping over her and heading toward the kitchen.

A young woman in her twenties living with her mother was not where Shiri thought her life would be by now. She had been working since she was a teenager, and for a while she did contribute a significant amount of financial help to her household. It had been a matter of practicality. Shiri's dad, the only breadwinner in the house, had stepped out on them, leaving his family high and dry.

Shiri's mother, who hadn't had a job since her gym trainer days as a teenager, suddenly had to find something she could do to earn money. Shiri was only seven when it happened. Her half-brother, James, was old enough to work, and that had pushed him to take a janitor position at the Pokémon Center. Now he was working in the pokémon biomedicine field abroad. He was brilliant, and Shiri and her mother had both encouraged him to pursue his degree once they were more financially stable.

James took after their mother. Elise, a Black Unovan woman in her early 30s, had been determined to support her children in their new home of Kanto despite the heartbreak which had fallen on her. She secured a position as a restaurant cashier, which brought in a little income. Her high energy and natural organizational skills caught the attention of her boss, and she was made a manager in the restaurant in a year. She worked long hours, but she always made sure James and Shiri had everything they needed.

Now, Elise was a general manager of a popular casual dining chain. Her salary was more than pleasing; she was able and happy to pay for James' education. Shiri could not be prouder of her mother's accomplishments.

Shiri figured she took after her father: flaky, unfocused, and disappointing. When James was her age, he had been accepted into an intern program with the Pokémon Center in Celadon City. Shiri, meanwhile, had been a cashier at the same Poké Mart for seven years, in the same position, making basically the same wage. She didn't have James' mind for science or her mother's drive for business. She never had the desire to go on the Pokémon Gym Challenge as a kid, nor did she really like keeping pokémon at all. Briony was her mother's delight, not hers.

Even her best friend was more accomplished than her. Ashton had been a pokémon trainer in his youth, and after his big adventure, he turned his experiences into a blog. That blog, which was brimming with his natural charm and personality, had grown gradually in popularity. While Ashton had run out of his own personal stories to share years ago, he would contact other trainers, gym leaders, and even champions to interview them. He had scored several lucrative sponsorships which allowed him to support himself and live in a little apartment of his own.

After feeding Briony, Shiri pulled off her too-large Poké Mart polo shirt and laid down in her bed. Phone in hand, she checked through her messages. Ashton had texted her earlier in the day. She had responded by asking if he wanted to grab drinks that night, but he never got back to her. Perhaps that was for the best; her odd experience that day had made her rather tired.

Could it have been a ditto? Shiri wondered over and over. She had never seen a ditto mimic a human before, but perhaps very high-level ones could do it. Or maybe if they have special training. The idea of someone training ditto to mimic people was a chilling one, like something out of a science fiction book. What would be the goal of doing something like that?

Her cell phone rang, causing the train of her thoughts to derail violently. Shiri gazed at the phone's screen and read the name there: Joseph. Her boss. She was tempted to let it go to voicemail but answered at the last second.

"Hello," she greeted.

"Shiri," Joseph's mid-range voice crackled in her ear, "how'd it go today?"

"Slow," she answered, gazing out her window into the cloudy night sky.

"Yeah, I figured," he said. "Blue's out of town for the next few weeks, so we'll probably have low sales. Be nice if the gym leader would give some thought to us small businesses, eh?" Shiri smiled wryly to herself. The Silph Co.-owned Poké Mart company was in no way a small business. Joseph was a franchisee at best.

Shiri chewed on her lip as she listened to her boss chatter, wondering what he called for. Perhaps he was going to cut her hours again, but he wouldn't call her in her off time to tell her that.

Joseph's voice sounded distant as he spoke to someone near him. It sounded like he was making a fast-food order. His voice returned to normal volume when he said, "Anyway, Shiri, I got a favor to ask."

"What is it?" she said, sitting up now. Joseph almost never asked for favors.

"The Mart in Pewter's pretty short-staffed, and now their assistant manager's gone and caught the flu. Think you can pick up a couple shifts over there?"

"In Pewter City," Shiri said, considering the idea. "I don't see why not. But what about the store here?"

"I'll cover your shifts," he said. "And if it's real slow, we'll probably save more money closing early anyway."

"Sounds good to me," Shiri answered.

"You always are dependable, Shir," Joseph said. He didn't say it in a sarcastic or condescending way, but it nonetheless prickled Shiri. She got off the phone as quickly as possible.

I could be more dependable, she thought as she placed her phone back on her nightstand. She laid back down and, by the time her mother came home with dinner in hand, she was fast asleep.

Simon wanted to return to his hotel as soon as possible and take a shower so hot it could remove his skin. But he had to make a pitstop at the Pokémon Center first.

He tried to put the young lady out of his mind by keeping that hot shower in the forefront of his thoughts. She had asked questions, and he had given answers, but she was persistent. Hopefully she wouldn't go snooping around for better, more satisfying answers.

Luckily this was his only assignment in Viridian. With this creature contained, he would be on to his next job, whatever that might be. He was due for some time off, but that might be a longshot, depending on how intemperate the boss was.

He walked into the Pokémon Center, the waiting room quiet save for a janitor. The nurse at the counter greeted him, but Simon only nodded and made a beeline for the PC system at the back of the lobby. He typed in the usual IP address, set the ultra ball that held his most recent capture in the port, and watched as it mystically disappeared into the digital world.

Once the confirmation flashed on screen, Simon logged off the PC and slipped his cell phone out of his pocket. He tapped out a quick text message to his boss: "DI-SL3 sent."

The response was almost immediate: "Good job."

Complements were spare, so Simon figured the boss was in a good mood. As he walked out of the Pokémon Center, he typed back, "Day off?"

This response took a few more minutes to come through. Simon was walking into his hotel room when he heard his phone chime. "Not in this economy."

He sighed and tossed the phone on the bed. He reminded himself that he'd much rather be doing capture work and making decent money than scrapping on Saffron's streets, but it was a cold comfort. He'd been working for so long he wasn't sure he could even remember his last day off.

But he got his scalding shower. The water beat against the tense muscles of his back, trying its best to melt him down to the bone. His skin turned red under the heat, but it was more relief than pain.

With his shower achieved and the question of time off answered, Simon had nothing more to keep his mind busy, and his thoughts returned to the girl.

No, not a girl. A woman, not much younger than himself. A pretty face, framed by a cascade of small, tight braids that hung down past her narrow shoulders. Big, brown, almond-shaped eyes that regarded Simon with curiosity even through her apprehension and disbelief. Pouty, red lips.

He could still feel the softness of her hand on his forearm.

Simon shut the water off, shaking his shaggy hair. He was clearly working too much to start having thoughts like these.

The bathroom was steamed up like a sauna, so Simon cracked the tiny, dingy window to let the fresh air in. The chill prickled his skin, but it couldn't penetrate any deeper due to the heat his muscles had absorbed from the shower. As the condensation rescinded from the mirror over the sink, Simon gazed at his reflection there. The circles under his eyes were deep, and he was certain there were more lines in his face than yesterday. He considered letting a beard grow in to cover them but noticed the pinpricks of white in the stubble which had begun to poke out along his chin. He wasn't even 30, yet he felt like he had lived two lifetimes already.

The young lady probably thought he was almost fifty. Definitely at least forty. He bet if he went out and found her again to ask her to dinner, she'd turn him down flat. He's old enough to be my dad, he could imagine her saying to herself.

Simon walked back into the bedroom, running the towel over his wet hair, when he noticed the indicator light on his cellphone. Another text from the boss: "Get to Pewter first thing in the morning."

He wanted to groan. He wanted to protest. He wanted to turn his phone off and pretend he never saw the text message.

But then realized something: he didn't have to go anywhere until the morning. His eyes cut to the time readout on his phone screen. It was only just past six o'clock. From now until the sun rose again, he had time to himself.

Perhaps that was the best the boss could do.