Chapter Six: Strangers
The small Nidoran slammed its purple body into a dying tree. Starting with a small dash, the Pokémon had managed to make a dent in the tree's log. Yet the tree still stood, defiantly. The Nidoran ran away from the tree. Preparing for another sprint, the Pokémon crouched. It dug its claws into the ground, getting as much gript as possible. The Nidoran burst into another run, making mad surge at the tree. Its head was position to strike the tree. Impact came quickly. This time the Pokémon had managed to knock the tree sideways. However, allusive as ever, the tree remained grounded, although now tilted.
Worn out from the hard day of training, the Nidoran returned to its trainer. The lone trainer scratched the Pokemon's large blue ears. The Nidoran kind of liked this. The young man threw down on the ground some treats, pieces of cutup fruits. The Pokémon happily ate away. The lone trainer leaned against the wall, looking out at the wasteland before him. The day was calm... probably too calm. Despite the serenity, the young man knew very well not to lower his guard. His Sandshrew also knew this important lesson. His ground-type Pokemon was waiting at the front door of the hideout, making sure no one got pass. The Nidoran, on the other hand, had not learnt this lesson yet. The Pokémon was happily eating its treats without paying attention to its surrounding. Only now and then would the Pokémon look up to see whether its trainer was still there.
"No need to worry," the lone trainer told his Pokémon. "If any bad happens, I'm sure we'll fight them back."
His sister was still in bed. Although it appeared yesterday as if she was going to recover, the next day she felt weak. She was going to need another day of rest. While he waited, the lone trainer decided instead to train his newly caught Nidoran.
"Tomorrow, we'll do target practice," the young man continued to talk, although no one was listening. "See how your Poison Sting attack works."
The trainer still had worked out whether or not the Nidoran had a quirk. The Pokémon had yet used an attack that differed from its poisonous move set. It took the young man a few weeks to work out his Sandshrew had poisonous glands at the tip of its claws. Only time would tell, he kept telling himself. Perhaps the Nidoran was a rare un-mutated Pokémon.
"If you keep training that Pokémon hard, it will begin to despise you," a mysterious voice said. The lone trainer wasn't aware of the mysterious figure. "Go easy on it." The voice sounded otherworldly as if the voice was coming from elsewhere besides the person's body. The mysterious figure wore a long trench coat – it's hood above its head to hide the figure's face.
"It's a harsh world," the lone trainer responded. "You never know what can happen."
"You people and your over-preparedness," the mysterious figure said with a hint of sarcasm. "Raiders have been attacking settlements."
"Why should I care?"
"I thought you would at least be concerned with your fellow humans."
"You keep saying 'fellow humans' as if you've a disdain for us?" the lone trainer responded.
"No disdain," the figure comment. "Just some caution. It was not I who ended the world, now."
"Maybe you're right."
It wasn't like the lone trainer was bitter. But he hated the previous generation that caused the apocalypse. Those in the past were too prideful. As technology advance, creating conveniences the post-war world could only dream about. People once went into space, a common legend spoke. Trainers and the Pokémon explored the moon. Even cloning was possible, some say. All that was all gone now. Gone because of pride.
"So raiders are attacking?" the lone trainer spoke. "And what do you think I can do about it? We're barely surviving as it is. There's nothing I can do."
"You can stand up against the unjust?" the mysterious figure spoke. "I know types like you. I once met a trainer an aeon ago. His name was Ash if I can recall. A selfless person."
"Well… you've got me mistaken," the young man laughed subtly. "There no heroes anymore; only survivors."
The mysterious figure could sense the lone trainer was lying. Yet he decided not to follow it up. Eventually, you will come to see the truth, he thought to himself. We need good people like you. The mysterious being disappeared, leaving not a trace. The lone trainer was alone. For about a half-hour continued to watch his Pokémon unremittingly slamming against the tree; each time knock the log further sideway. Sensing a storm coming, the lone trainer called his Pokémon to return. With the Nidoran and Sandshrew safely inside, the young man gave one more glance of the outdoors. He quickly returned to check up on his sister.