I'm pretty happy today, so here's an update. I'd like to thank everybody who favorites, follows, and/or reviews this story, or even if you're simply reading.

Here's the second chapter. I hope I did a good job on this one; I like to think I did, but I'll see how much you readers enjoy it. Happy reading!


BRYANT FOREST, 18

When I got home, a light rain was beginning to fall as clouds moved in. I didn't think much of this at first; perhaps it was just another manifestation of how my evening was going overall.

I had a date, and I screwed it up. There isn't going to be another date.

The Uber dropped me off in my house's driveway. I lived in a suburban district of Moraga City, one known as Fairview; it was named that because it had the best view of town. As far as I was concerned, the best view of town wasn't very different from the worst view of town, because the city wasn't exactly glamorous.

Traffic had been insane on the trip back, but Moraga City had more than a traffic problem. It also had a garbage problem.

Fairview was one of the "nicer" parts of the city, but that wasn't saying much. The dumpster behind the local library was overflowing with refuse such as discarded Pokeballs, and there was still a slight haze in the air from smog.

Being that I was the type of person who liked everything to be clean, living in this city was rough. Like everything else in life, however, I just had to get used to it. And for the most part, the city's shortcomings had ceased to shock me.

Once I reached the door, intent on taking a lukewarm shower after sweating through my shirt, I saw a familiar Ninetales on the other side.

"Welcome back!" the Ninetales announced cheerily, beckoning me inside. "How was your date, Bryant?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I'm afraid it didn't go so well, Alana. Sometimes it feels like nothing ever goes right, and that's the worst part of all this."

Alana frowned. "This is a trying time in anyone's life, I suppose. But what are you going to do now?"

"I guess head to bed" I replied.

"But it's still so early!" Alana exclaimed. "Don't you want to play video games or watch TV?"

I shook my head. "I just want to put today behind me. Is that too much to ask?"

"Oh" the Ninetales said. "Well, if that's what you want, that's perfectly fine too. It's your life."

Even though I wasn't in a good mood, I was always careful not to raise my voice with Alana. I loved my parents dearly, but I honestly considered the Ninetales my best friend. Admittedly, there wasn't much competition.

When I was twelve years old, I had gone through a rough patch in my life; my anxiety was through the roof. As such, my parents and psychologist had decided that I'd benefit from an emotional support Pokémon, which was the role Alana served.

Of course, my parents had drilled into me that I couldn't treat the Ninetales as an object. She was a real live Pokémon, with her own thoughts and feelings, and I had to respect them. In a way, it would be practice for socializing with fellow humans.

Well, if tonight was any indication, the practice didn't work out so well.

As I passed the dining room, I saw that my parents were still there. They had evidently finished eating, but they were still talking with one another about something. Exactly what that something was, I didn't care.

"Oh, he's home!" my mother exclaimed. "Bryant, how was the date?"

My heart sank yet again as I realized that I'd have to tell my parents the truth. Then again, they were my parents; I could trust them with just about anything.

"There won't be a second one" I told them. "At least, it doesn't look like it. I didn't get along well with Hannah."

"Probably best to cut it off early, then" my father replied. "I am sorry to hear that, though. But if at first you don't succeed…".

"Try, try again" I said. "Yeah, I know."

"Do you have any idea what went wrong?" my mother asked me. "Like, any reason you two didn't get along with one another?"

Here it is, the moment of truth.

I hesitated. Did my parents really need to know this?

Yes. I should be honest with them. They ARE my parents, after all.

"I think I may have talked a little too much about painting and the like" I admitted sheepishly. "She wasn't too interested."

My father gave me a stern look as he wiped something off his glasses. "Well, at least you've got an idea what to do differently next time. It's a bit unfortunate that it didn't work out this time."

"Next time", my mother chimed in, "you should give the other person more attention. You should let them know you're interested, even if you aren't. That's how you show that you care."

"I get it," I replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to head up and get ready for bed." I didn't add the words, And put this day behind me, but I don't think I needed to.

"Very well," my mother replied. "It is a bit early, but you're an adult now. I can't tell you what to do."

After taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I put on my pajamas and got into bed. It may have been an odd choice to wear flannel in a tropical city, but I didn't care so much about that.

For a while, I just lay there, listening to the rain splatter against the windows. Sleep was elusive tonight, but listening to a sound like raindrops could help with that sometimes. Any rhythm, in fact, could serve to calm me down under the right circumstances.

It was different tonight, though. After hearing the raindrops hit at a relatively slow rate, this rate suddenly increased. The droplets themselves also seemed to grow more powerful, and this in itself made me worry a bit.

Make no mistake, though: I wasn't too concerned yet. Moraga City was used to rainstorms; that simply went with the territory when you lived in a tropical island chain. The city would weather the storm, just like it had many others.

Imagine my surprise when the wind picked up significantly, to the point that I could hear it howling against the window. Suddenly, the interior of the house felt much colder than it should have been; I was glad I'd put on the flannel pajamas.

At one point, Alana came into the room. I don't think I had managed to sleep even a wink; not only was the storm loud, but I wasn't as tired as I could have been.

"Is it okay if I sleep with you?" the Ninetales asked me. "Uh…not in that way, I mean?"

In spite of the high winds, I couldn't help but laugh. "That's fine."

Alana curled up into a ball and fell asleep on the floor of my room. Her remarkable ability to sleep almost anywhere never failed to amaze me.

Regardless of Alana's state, however, I was wide awake. With every gust of wind, I saw the picture on the wall, a photograph taken of me half my life ago, shaking back and forth.

I need to put it somewhere that it'll be more secure, I thought. Even if having photos from age 9 was embarrassing, it was still important to me that the photo be preserved. I got out of bed and made my way over to the wall.

Seconds later, there was the sound of something shattering, followed by a stinging pain in my right leg.

"Bryant! You're bleeding!" Alana exclaimed, waking with a start.

"I am?" I asked, barely believing it in spite of the pain.

I looked down at my right leg. To my horror, a three-inch chunk of glass had embedded itself just above that ankle, and blood was pouring out of it, staining the green plaid PJs.

"The window broke, and you got hit with some of the glass. You have to take it out, no matter how much it hurts."

I gritted my teeth, then reached down. Even the mere act of bending over made it feel as though the glass were drilling a deeper hole in my leg. My eyes watered, and I barely resisted the urge to cry.

Grabbing the glass shard, I tore it out of my leg, which felt like getting stabbed in reverse; in a way, I suppose that's what it was.

"Okay…" I sighed. "If only Zachary were here. He might know what to do."

Zachary was my older brother. He no longer lived with me and my parents; instead, he had his own apartment in a denser part of the city. It occurred to me then that if my house was destroyed, we could go live with him.

Unless his apartment building gets flooded, too. In that case, we'd have to find some kind of shelter. But it won't come to that.

"Don't worry about him," Alana insisted. "I know this might sound like tough love, but you have to be self-sufficient sometimes as well. One day, you'll live on your own just like Zachary does."

I yelled to wake up my parents, and they came rushing into the room. In hindsight, by doing so, I might have only managed to put them in harm's way; the shattered window was strewn all over the floor.

"I thought you weren't afraid of storms anymore, Bryant" my mother said, scratching her chin. Nonetheless, there were dark circles under her eyes, so she was probably pissed at me for waking her up in the middle of the night.

"I wasn't. But then this one came along, look at my window!"

She looked at the window that now had no glass, then at all the glass on the floor, and screamed like a banshee. It might have been comical had the situation not been so seemingly dire.

"Okay, I don't feel safe with you staying in this room" my mother told me. "In fact, just get away from the windows."

Suddenly, my phone buzzed loudly, which made me flinch. It wasn't the type of buzz associated with receiving a call, though; this one was trouble.

"ATTENTION ALL PEOPLE FROM THE FAIRVIEW DISTRICT IN MORAGA CITY. PLEASE EVACUATE AND FIND SHELTER. THIS STORM IS SEVERE, AND IT'S NOT SAFE TO REMAIN IN THE DISTRICT."

I had to cover my sensitive ears in order to avoid feeling as though they were burning, but that didn't work. Not well enough. In any case, it was probably best that I could hear the emergency alert.

After that, the sirens started blaring.

To someone who doesn't have ears like mine, it's hard to describe just how loud these noises can feel. Even with my fingers jammed right in my ear canals, it was agony.

"The infrastructure is better downtown. That's probably it" my father said gravely. "It's not a deepfake, it's not a hoax. We need to get out of here."

"Come on, Alana" I said, beckoning for the Ninetales to get up. "We'll get you to safety, and we'll find a place to stay until the storm's over."

My mother shook her head. "I'm afraid we may have to leave Alana at home, Bryant. If she'll slow us down, we can't take her."

"That's bullshit. She's faster than us! We can take her!" I yelled to make myself heard over the alarms.

My parents didn't seem to want to argue with me. I took that as my cue to lead Alana out of my bedroom, racing down the stairs.

"Bryant! Don't you want to get dressed first?" my mother exclaimed, but I barely heard her. I didn't care about anything other than getting out of the house as quickly as I possibly could.

Fairview was a relatively low-lying region of Moraga City; granted, no part of the city was very far from sea level. It was no wonder that the local government was telling us to evacuate.

The sirens were still audible from outside the house. They blared on and on, without any end in sight. Alarms weren't only coming from homes, though; there were also emergency vehicles in the streets, plowing their way through deep puddles of dirty water.

I'd been through storms before, but none of them had been quite like this. Not only were sirens blaring, but there was a palpable fear in the air even though I could only see a handful of other people.

I did something I'm not proud of.

The best thing to do, without a question, would be to drive with my parents into the denser parts of the city. That way, we would all sink or swim together, but, more importantly, it would get me away from the sirens more quickly.

Instead, based simply on my own instinct, I ran.

Before long I was soaked, not just in rainwater, but also in a copious amount of sweat. Somehow, in spite of the rain, it still managed to feel hot here.

I didn't spare much thought for my parents or Alana. Given that the Ninetales was a Pokémon, she could survive quite a lot. If she was with my parents, she'd be okay.

At least, that's what I believed subconsciously.

Running through the streets of Fairview, my feet got scraped up by the concrete and gravel. Shoes were another thing I'd neglected to bring with me, and now I was paying the price. More than a few times, I grimaced as one of my feet came into contact with the ground; it could be loose gravel or even glass.

Eventually I reached the Port of Moraga, which contained a veritable maze of shipping containers. This could either be a good thing or a bad thing; yes, they might provide shelter from the wind, but they might also fall on top of me if the wind got really bad.

Then I realized that I couldn't hear the sirens from the port, which was a positive. Overall, I thus considered being at the port a good thing.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of another person's footsteps. At least, I thought it was a person; a Pokémon's footsteps would probably not be this loud.

Safety in numbers, I thought. There's safety in numbers.

"Who's that?" a female voice all but screeched.

My blood ran cold, and I had to cover my ears again. I'd heard some loud voices before, of course, but nothing quite like this. Not least because of who the voice belonged to.

"Hannah?" I asked, my mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. "You're there?"

"How the hell do you know my name? Were you waiting for me here?"

"Uh…no" I replied, my face heating up. "I wasn't looking for anyone in particular."

"Then what are you doing here? You're close to the water, you know; the port's about the most dangerous place you can be in a storm!"

"I could ask the same about you, Hannah."

"There's my name again. Are you…that guy I met at a restaurant recently? The one who wouldn't stop talking about colors?"

I sighed, a sound even I barely heard over the howling of the wind. "Yes, it's me. The name is Bryant."

Hannah stepped into my line of vision, and I saw that the rain had robbed her hair of its color; now, it just appeared black. (There were lights over the port, so we could see each other even in the dark of night.)

She frowned. "Why would Arceus ordain it for us to meet right now? He must have a very shrewd sense of humor."

I shrugged. "I don't know. How should I be able to tell the mind of a deity?"

"You're not helping, Bryant! Now, if you'll leave me alone, I have to get back home."

"Why are you out here in the first place?" I asked her.

"What's it to you? I'm an adult, you know; I can make my own choices!"

Sheesh. She could be a bit more polite, couldn't she?

It occurred to me that, since Hannah was at the port, she most likely lived not too far from me. (Her dating profile had stated she was from Moraga City, but hadn't specified anything else.) I decided not to mention that.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home. It's safer there than it is out here."

"They ordered us to evacuate," I told her. "You'd be safest downtown."

"Hmph. Well, regarding that, you're one to talk. I suppose we're both idiots for standing in this shipyard, but that's going to end right now."

Hannah turned around and ran away. And once again, I'd blown an opportunity to end an interaction with her on good terms. To make such a mistake not once, but twice…it was adding insult to injury.

Before I could spend too much time being sorry for myself, I heard another enormous gust of wind. This one was so deafening that I could feel it reverberate against the ground, nearly knocking me off my bare feet.

Then, there was a thunderous splashing noise; at least, that's what I imagined a massive ocean wave would sound like. It mixed with the sound of the wind, which combined to create an overstimulating cacophony.

What's that called, when there's a huge ocean wave crashing against the shore? Doesn't it begin with an S? Or wait, no, it's a T-word, right?

I had thought that the port would be a safe place to take shelter from the waves. As it turned out, however, it might be the most dangerous place in the city, just like Hannah had said.

Seconds later, as though the water were determined to cover every inch of the port, I was ankle-deep in salt water. I could tell it was salt because the cuts on my feet felt like they were being doused in lava.

Don't be a wimp, Bryant. You can run away. Head back home and make sure your parents are alright; they should still be waiting for you.

I knew that I should listen to the logical part of my brain, but it was still incredibly tempting just to stay here, wallowing in fear at what the next few minutes would bring. I was frozen to the spot.

If I don't run, I'm not going to survive. Nothing else matters if I die.

With that thought in the back of my mind, I began lifting my legs and sprinting out of the port. Thanks to the ankle-deep water, it took a lot of extra work to do this.

Hannah isn't exactly happy with me. But that's okay, because I don't think I'll see her again. She's clearly not worried about me anymore, so I shouldn't worry about her either.

After a minute or two of running down the street as fast as I could, my legs and lungs were both burning. The rain was picking up too, and each droplet felt almost painful.

And then I saw it. Or rather, I heard it.

By "it", I mean an insane number of horns, joining in with the chorus of sirens that added ample noise pollution to the night.

The roads were clogged with cars, since many people were trying to evacuate, but I was able to make out the one my parents drove. It was moving slowly, just like all the others; I could have run faster than my parents were driving.

Once I'd spotted the car, I waved at my father, who was driving. He didn't wave back; evidently, he was too focused on the road to do so.

However, although my mother did wave at me, she didn't look happy. I realized then that I was in for a stern talking-to.