This is, by a significant margin, the longest chapter so far of Crisis of Faith, at over 6,000 words. A decent bit happens too, so I hope it is to the liking of all you guys. Thank you all for your support.


BRYANT FOREST, 18

I don't know what I'd been expecting the rest of the compound to look like, but I was pleasantly surprised nonetheless.

The room I'd woken up in had been the basement of the Nightfall's headquarters. As it turned out, that was the shabbiest part of the building; once we'd ascended the stairs and entered the first floor, I saw that the floor didn't look too dirty.

"If you're a private group of people who became Pokémon, how did you manage to fund this place?" I blurted out. Really, it was about the same atmosphere as an ordinary home in Fairview, if a bit rougher around the edges.

Omar grunted. "Well, our parents bought it for us, I guess. I don't know; I'm not the best with finances."

"You could've fooled me."

"That's not important right now. What matters is getting you some breakfast, and you'll want a decent one, because today is going to be a big day for you."

Omar led me into what must have been the dining room, because it contained a table set for four. The table even had candles on it, much like one would have for a fancy dinner, though they weren't lit.

Most surprisingly, there were already two other Pokémon at the table.

One of them was a male Cinderace. I could tell he was a male because…I just could. Don't ask me how. The other was also male, but he was a Pignite.

"Ah, we have a newcomer!" the Cinderace exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. "I can't believe it!"

The Pignite frowned. "I thought you already knew that. Omar never leaves us in the dark."

"Indeed I don't" the Houndoom told his two companions. "Now that Glaceon here has woken up, I was able to get some information out of him."

I tensed up a bit. I didn't like the way Omar talked about getting some information out of me. It was probably nothing, but the way he worded it made me uncomfortable.

"His name is Bryant Forest, and he hid in a church for a week after losing his home in the storm. And he was once human, just like the rest of us!"

"You hid in a church? That's cool. Did you pray?" That was the Cinderace talking, a mile a minute.

I shook my head. "No, not really. I don't…that's really not the kind of person I am."

Of course, that was partly a lie. The send-off I'd given Alana probably qualified as some sort of prayer, though I doubted Cinderace cared about semantics.

"Yeah, me neither," Cinderace replied. "Anyway, the Kalos toast should be ready soon; Ken, will you grab it out of the oven?"
Part of me felt like laughing. Of all the names the Pignite could have, Ken would seem to be near the bottom of the list. Naturally, that's what his name had to be.

The Pignite nodded, standing gingerly from his chair, and went over to the kitchen. Half a minute later, he came back with a tray full of delicious-looking Kalos toast.

"I'm not the best cook, Bryant. I apologize" Ken told me.

"Are you kidding? This looks fantastic!" I exclaimed. "Besides, Kalos toast was one of my favorite foods growing up!"

"Growing up? How old are you, Bryant?" Cinderace asked me.

"Eighteen", I said, "but I don't see why that's important."

"You're never too old to love Kalos toast. At least, that's what I always say. Anyway, come sit down and have a bite. We've got much to talk about."

It had been a week since I'd sat at a dining table. As I did so this time, I couldn't help but remember the most recent time, which had ended in a falling out between myself and Hannah.

Hannah.

For the first time since waking up, I allowed myself to fully grasp the weight of what I'd done. Just when the others needed me most, I had failed them, choosing my own safety over the well-being of everyone else.

The rational side of my brain insisted that there was nothing else I could have done, that the decision I'd made was perfectly reasonable. But it was hard to get myself to believe that.

It had been a number of hours since I'd escaped that church, and Hannah could be anywhere by now. For all I knew, she could already be dead, having been cut down by something on Kanora Island.

"Come on, Glaceon. Eat up. Like I said, big day."

I frowned at Omar. "I have a name, you know what it is."

The Houndoom winked at me as if to say, I do know. But I don't care.

I suppose the Kalos toast was good enough; delicious, even. It would never be as great as my mother's home cooking, but it served its purpose well enough. It was a little taste of home, and at a time where it looked like I wouldn't be seeing home for some time.

"How is it?" the Pignite asked as I took a few bites.

"It's amazing!" I insisted. "The best Kalos toast I've ever had!" Ken could probably tell that I was just trying to butter him up, but I didn't care about that.

"I'm glad you like it," Cinderace told me. "It was made with a lot of effort on our part."

Ken glared at the Cinderace. "It was mostly me, Gavin. You didn't do much other than stay out of my way."

Gavin frowned. "Okay then. So what brought you to the Darkstar district, Bryant?"

Ken rolled his eyes. "Please excuse my brother. He's way too friendly sometimes."

"It's quite alright!" I exclaimed. "I actually like it when people are friendly, it gives us something to talk about."

This was another white lie. Perhaps this had something to do with my condition, but I tended to find in-person social interactions exhausting, and not just emotionally so. By the sound of it, Gavin could be quite a handful.

"I'm glad to hear that," Omar said. "Because when you live with Gavin, it's something you have to get used to. He's not a calming person to be around."

Gavin glared at the Houndoom. "Who says I'm not calming?"

"I do," Ken spat. "Anyway, bro, shut up and let Omar explain the ground rules to our new recruit."

"Wait a minute", I replied, trying to process everything I'd just heard. "You two are brothers?"

Gavin nodded. "Yes, we are. Twins, in fact! Sometimes it's hard to believe that we're twins, though."

I couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Perhaps it was just because they were two different species of Pokémon, but if someone else had told me that Gavin and Ken were twin brothers, I would have demanded they be locked away in an insane asylum.

"No kidding," I said.

"Anyway, eat up, Bryant," Omar instructed me. "You need to finish your meal before I go over the ground rules."

I dove right into the remainder of my Kalos toast. Although I enjoyed it, especially when it was dripping in maple syrup, there was one factor I didn't enjoy too much.

You see, my table manners had never been the best even as a human. My "date" with Hannah had been only one example, and that was when I had two hands, five fingers on each hand, and an ability to easily use a fork and knife.

However, sitting at a table, already very challenging as a quadruped, became far more so when I had to keep my balance while cutting my food. More than once, I accidentally got syrup in my fur, and I knew that getting it out would be a real pain.

"Next time, just eat on the floor" Omar snorted as I tried to wipe the syrup out of my white fur.

I shook my head. "I don't know about that." The image of myself forced to eat out of a dish on the floor, while Ken and Gavin got to eat at the table, was rather unpleasant.

Omar frowned at me. "That is one of the ground rules. When it comes to manners, you'll do as I say. We might be outlaws, but we still need some level of decency."

Outlaws. That was a rather loaded word, but I decided not to dwell on it.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll eat the rest of my meals on the floor." It shouldn't have bothered me so much, but somehow it did.

"Indeed" Omar replied. "The next rule is that, when you're outside our compound, you will not let anyone outside the organization know that you're a member of the Nightfall. If you're caught breaking this rule, there will be severe consequences, and not just for you."

I couldn't help but notice the authority with which Omar spoke. Yes, he was the leader, but even then, the way he said will not instead of may not or cannot projected confidence. He really didn't want his rules broken.

"I accept that rule" I replied.

Omar raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? You sounded like a robot as you said that. This isn't a video game where you just press X to continue, this is real life!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?" I asked, somewhat indignantly. "If I say no, you're probably just going to kill me on the spot!"

The Houndoom glowered at me. "Please don't jump to conclusions. I know a lot of people like us struggle with that, but it's something important to work on. If you want to be productive, you'll be able to manage your emotions."

You WILL be able to. Not you SHOULD be able to. There's that forceful language again.

"Fine," I replied, feeling the glares of both Omar and Ken on me. "I will manage my emotions."

"Good" the Houndoom responded. "Now, last but not least…if at any point, you feel as though you no longer want to be part of our group, you are free to walk right out that door. At that point, you will be released from all your obligations as a member of the Nightfall."

Something about the word "released" unnerved me, but I tried not to let it show. Instead, I simply nodded to show that I understood.

"Very well," Omar replied. "That is the extent of the rules you will need to follow. Now, it may make sense to show you to your quarters. The room you woke up in is not where you'll be sleeping."

Huh. I guess I'm pleasantly surprised by that.

The Houndoom gestured for me to follow him upstairs, so I did just that. Each step creaked a bit, but it seemed structurally sound overall. "Old house" Omar grunted.

Once we were on the third floor, Omar led me to a room at the end of the hall. "This is where you'll stay during your time in the Nightfall. Make yourself at home, Bryant."

My mouth hung agape at the sight of a real bed, something I hadn't known in over a week. Yes, the sheets looked rather dusty, and they weren't exactly brightly colored, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Thank you so much!" I replied.

Omar smiled. "Yeah, it's no problem. Only the best for our new recruit. Anyway, we'll give you thirty minutes to relax, and then we'll get back down to business."

As I sat on my new bed, I couldn't help but wonder about some things. I hadn't exactly expected answers, but this place only left me with more questions.

First of all, if the Nightfall were all outlaws, how were they able to afford such a nice place? I mean, the house wasn't exactly luxurious, but it was comfortable enough. It was certainly an upgrade from the church sanctuary.

So how would they have bought up a house in the Darkstar district and furnished it so quickly without anyone noticing?

The answer, or at least the most plausible explanation I could come up with, was that nobody from the government paid any attention to this part of the city. That part, in fact, was demonstrably true; one needed only to look at the ample evidence of neglect to conclude that Darkstar was an Arceus-forsaken neighborhood.

Since I was at least somewhat satisfied with that answer, time to move on to the next question: How did I get out of this situation?

I'd grown up hearing all sorts of stories about outlaws in the wilds of various regions. Alola had its fair share of criminals, such as Billy the Kirlia and Ted Bunnelby, and they were never portrayed in a positive light.

If my parents saw me right now, they would not be happy.

Moreover, one lesson I'd garnered from these tales was that if you joined a criminal syndicate, it was only a matter of time before they turned on you. As soon as they'd gotten as much use out of you as they could, they had no reason to keep you alive anymore. And very often, they wouldn't.

But if I tried to leave the compound, I didn't even want to know what would happen. Omar might insist that I could depart freely, to which I would say: I was born at night, but I wasn't born last night.

Who was I kidding? It would be the end of me.

The only way out without dying, most likely, would be discovery by the police. But that in itself wasn't an ideal solution, because the cops would immediately know that I'd been engaged in wrongdoing. What was more, I was a human who'd become a Pokémon, and that was the reason I'd had to leave the church in the first place.

And then there was Zachary's apartment, just as distant as it had been before. Really, it had never been a possibility for me. In attempting to escape there, I'd traded one Araquanid web for another.

Even if I got there, the danger would not be over. It would just be a different kind of danger.

So, when I considered all the factors that had led me to this point, as well as all the possibilities of what might happen next, it was hard to enjoy my soft new bed.


HANNAH IZOLA, 18

Although I'd urged myself not to lose hope right after we were caught, it took everything for me not to curl up into a ball of despair.

You can't lose control like that, I told myself. If you do, these other Pokémon will see that you're weak, and they'll lose confidence as well. And the cops are going to prey on that, because that's what they're trained to do.

The eleven of us were led out of the basement at gunpoint. I knew that if any of us tried to run away, a bullet would be in our brains faster than one can even say the word "bullet."

"Okay, so here's what happens now" one of the officers sneered as he guided us through the near-total darkness. "We'll take you guys out here on our truck, which we've always had just in case something like this happens. And we'll drive you to the port near Fairview, which is where the ship will be waiting. Is everybody clear?"

Nobody said anything. I think we were all too terrified to utter a single word.

"There's more," the officer continued. "Once you are all in the truck, there is no speaking to one another. The back of the truck is bugged, and we'll know if you are plotting something. And we'll put a stop to it."

The way he emphasized that word made me certain that there would be force involved.

"All right, now get in the truck!" he barked at us.

I saw that the back of the truck was open, and the inside, to the degree that I could make it out, was reminiscent of the interior of a freight train. I found this incredibly insulting; to the Moraga City Police Department, we were just freight.

Nonetheless, we all climbed in, well aware of the consequences if we didn't. Then, the back of the truck closed, and we were plunged into absolute darkness.

"We'll still be able to breathe, right?" Amanda cried softly.

I nodded; then, realizing she wouldn't be able to see my nod, whispered, "Yes. It's not going to be a long ride, I promise you."

"Cut it out, both of you!" a gruff male voice, presumably from the truck's driver, exclaimed. "The rule here is absolute silence, and right now you're not giving me that."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. As if we should care what he thought.

I'd never thought of Moraga City's roads as being very bumpy. However, it seemed that to the extent potholes did exist here, we hit every single one. This was probably just because the truck's "chamber" didn't have any conventional seats, but it still wasn't comfortable.

Within a minute or two, I felt as though I'd lose my dinner. And it hadn't even been that much food.

I wish I'd turned into a Psychic type rather than a Fire type. That way I'd be able to comfort all of these Pokémon more. Of course, I don't need to be psychic to hear their shivers. Those don't happen in a tropical city without fear!

I found myself shivering too, partly in an effort to not vomit. If I found it hard to keep my meals down on the city streets, I shuddered to imagine what the boat would be like.

Soon, I won't have to imagine at all.

With every twist and turn, I was knocked sideways onto the ground, slamming into other members of our group. What if the back of the truck opens and we fall into the street?

Honestly, even though we'd probably get run over by oncoming traffic, at least we wouldn't have to get on the ship. I guess that's looking on the bright side.

A few minutes later, the truck ground to a halt, and we were let out. Being that I'd just been jostled around on a bumpy ride, it took some time for me to get my bearings back. It was much like how it feels after getting off a roller coaster.

And then, once I had regained my balance, I saw that we were back at the Port of Moraga.

The last time I'd been here hadn't been under the best of circumstances. I tried not to dwell on that memory, because it really wasn't a pleasant one. Not only had the storm been picking up at that moment, but I'd also seen Bryant for the first time since our date had derailed. And we'd had a shouting match - not a pleasant memory.

This time, the port was far more crowded. Police cars, with their lights flashing in red, white, and blue, were all over the place, as were several trucks like the one we'd just come here on.

"All aboard, everyone!" someone shouted. "The ship's going to be leaving in half an hour, and if you're not on it by that time, it will depart without you!"

Part of me wanted to stay behind, just to see what would happen if we didn't get on the ship. Of course, chances were that it wouldn't be anything good.

I also saw that there were dozens of other Pokémon, perhaps even a couple hundred. The police trucks had taken them here from all areas of the city, and that made me feel like vomiting even more.

They will stop at nothing to round us up and dehumanize us.

"Do we have to get on the ship, Hannah?" I heard Amanda ask me tearfully.

I nodded grimly. "I'm afraid we don't have a choice. But we'll get through this."

"Shut up, both of you!" one of the officers barked. "Once you get on the ship, you can blabber all you want about whatever you want!"

They don't know what we're saying. They can't speak the Pokémon language. But I think they're more perceptive than we give them credit for.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Blaziken being restrained by a cop. The Blaziken grimaced as his hands were held behind his back, and he was pushed to the ground.

"I'm telling you, I'm not a transformer!" Blaziken exclaimed. "I've always been a Blaziken!"

The officer restraining him shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not what our intelligence told us. Now, if you'll stop resisting, you can get on that ship and head over to your vacation on Kanora Island."

Wait a minute. He's a real Blaziken if he can speak English. Or rather, an original Blaziken. He really must have gotten caught up in this, and not been a primary target.

Blaziken snorted. "Vacation? That's quite rich coming from you! As far as I'm concerned, give me liberty or give me death!"

A nearby officer raised her gun and pointed it at Blaziken's head. As soon as she did this, the Fire type's demeanor changed markedly.

"I didn't mean literally!" Blaziken exclaimed, his eyes wide and full of fear.

Wordlessly, the female officer pulled the trigger. I had to look away; I couldn't bear to see the corpse.

Amanda screamed, grabbing onto me for support. Of course, I didn't want to say anything for fear of ending up like that Blaziken on the ground.

After that, I felt a lot shakier on my feet.. Every time I blinked, I couldn't help but picture Blaziken with a bullet through his head, blood spurting everywhere, wide-open lifeless eyes…yeah, I was going to be having nightmares for a while.

We were ushered onto a massive cargo ship, which was thankfully devoid of shipping containers. Nonetheless, given the concrete floor, it did not look comfortable.

"Make yourselves at home, transformers" an officer sneered. "If not…well, you don't have to wonder what happens. Not anymore."

I sat in a corner of the ship's hold, right next to Amanda. The Phanpy shivered despite the warm night air, and her teeth were chattering too.

"Do you need a blanket or something?" I asked her.

Amanda shook her head. "That's not what I need."

"Then what do you need?"

"I don't know! Whatever helps me forget about what I just saw!"

She was practically wailing at this point, and I didn't blame her. Although I did a better job at hiding it, my heart was racing, and my head throbbed, with every throb producing the image of Blaziken being restrained.

I embraced her in my arms. "It's okay, Amanda," I insisted.

Needless to say, that was a rather inconsiderate thing for me to tell her. While reassuring someone is all well and good, it's not exactly helpful when the other person knows you're lying to them.

"No, it's not!" the Phanpy cried. "That scene…I'll never forget it!"

"Hey, will you be quiet over there?" a male Weavile snarled from about fifteen feet away. "I'm trying to get comfortable!"

I toned it down to a whisper. "He's got a point, Amanda. I know you're traumatized, but we can't let it disturb others."

"Still, how rude of Weavile." Amanda said that in a quieter tone than she'd used before.

"We all have different ways of processing things," I whispered. I was hardly a mental health counselor, but I was fairly certain I'd heard that somewhere. "I know it might help for you to scream, but it doesn't always help others."

"Whatever" the Phanpy replied. "I guess I'll try to sleep as well. How long is the trip?"

"I remember hearing it was twenty miles," I said. "Even if the ship moves slowly, it can't be more than a couple of hours. Maybe on the slower end if the waves are rough."

"But will the waves be rough?"

"I don't know. You need to be able to tolerate uncertainty sometimes, Amanda. Otherwise you just won't be able to deal with life."

The Phanpy did not reply, and I eventually rolled over onto my side and closed my eyes.

Sleep, however, would not come so easily.


ZACHARY FOREST, 24

It was the middle of the night, perhaps one or two in the morning, a time when nobody in their right mind would be awake.

And yet, there I was, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I yawned rather audibly, and at that moment, I was glad our apartment had two bedrooms. There was no need to disturb my roommate.

Why did I wake up? There's no need for me to be up right now, so what's going on?

Perhaps it was hunger; indeed, I heard my stomach growl. It was definitely hunger.

So I got out of bed and made my way over to the kitchen in just my boxers. My kid brother might have preferred pajamas, but they weren't for me.

I'd tried to explain a couple times why he shouldn't wear pajamas anymore. It was less stylish and more childish, and it wouldn't exactly help him find a date. But ultimately, it was Bryant's decision, even if I didn't like it.

It had been an eventful week. Although our apartment building hadn't sustained much if any damage from the storm, the power had been cut out for the better part of a day, which left my roommate and I sweating like crazy until it was restored. I'd never wished more strongly that I didn't live in the tropics.

Once the power came back to the building, we kept getting updates about protests against the municipal government over their inability to prepare and respond to the crisis adequately. I didn't understand why the government was to blame - the storm couldn't have been foreseen, after all - but people still wanted a scapegoat. Who was I to judge?

More importantly, a breathtaking new story came out after a couple of days. People were starting to turn into Pokémon, something that had never happened before in the recorded history of Alola. What was that all about?

I made my way over to the fridge, where a pizza box stood. We'd rather have ordered from one of the nicer restaurants, but beggars can't be choosers. Money was always tight when you lived downtown.

The leftover pizza, once I saw it, looked miserable. It had been burned almost to a crisp, with the hot peppers and bacon slices strewn all over the place. Perhaps Terence had microwaved it, then forgotten to eat it, although that didn't sound like something he'd do.

Still, we've got nothing else. The supply chains have been rough lately, so I guess I'll have to make do.

I sat down on the couch, two slices of rock-hard pizza on my lap, and turned on the TV.

The channel immediately showed up as Vulpix News. A blonde, female news anchor whose name I couldn't bother to remember sat next to a graphic on the screen. It was a map of Moraga City, color-coded by district, with dots all over the place.

"Each dot represents a transformed human, one who has become a Pokémon" the blonde lady announced, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. "As of this moment, all of these Pokémon are in the process of being sent to Kanora Island, twenty miles out to sea from the Port of Moraga."

I shuddered at the mention of Kanora Island. It didn't exactly have a good reputation.

"There is, however, one Pokémon missing from the group. He was at the Zoness diocese of the Church of Arceus earlier today, and now he's gone. Nobody has been able to find him, so if you have any information that might lead to his capture, you are advised to call the number on the screen below. That number is 201-821-1316. And if your information proves valuable, you will be rewarded handsomely."

If the transformers were indeed contagious, as some people believed, then it made sense to isolate them. I was already furiously scribbling down the number on a piece of paper when the next graphic caused me to drop my pen.

"The Pokémon in question is a Glaceon who, according to the Gardevoir who harbored him in the church, is named Bryant Forest. He's eighteen years old. And he was last seen in the Darkstar district."

The Darkstar district. That's not far from here.

That was one of my immediate thoughts, but the other one was far more powerful.

Bryant Forest! That's my brother! And they're trying to hunt him down!

Although my younger brother and I had our disagreements, being deported to that dangerous island wasn't something I'd wish on my worst enemy, let alone Bryant.

Immediately, I knew that under no circumstances would I call that number. Indeed, that was putting it mildly; I would need to do whatever I could to keep Bryant out of the government's hands.

Just then, I heard the sound of footsteps coming from behind me. Given that there was only one other person in the apartment (or at least, there should only have been one other person), it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

I turned to face a slightly overweight young man with short brown hair. His brown eyes were rather bloodshot, as though he were sleep-deprived.

"What are you doing here, Terence?" I asked him. "Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

Terence laughed dryly. "I could ask you the same thing, Zachary. Why are you sitting on the couch, watching TV in your boxers?"

"I couldn't sleep," I admitted, which was true. "The news isn't exactly comforting."

"What news?"

I gestured towards the television set. "Look at the TV and let it come to you."

Terence sat down next to me on the couch. We both watched intently as a news anchor interviewed the police officers responsible for rounding up the transformers.

"Yeah, I think we'll find him eventually" one of the cops said. "Moraga's a big city, but there are only so many places he can hide. He won't stay in the Darkstar district very long."

"You seem pretty certain about that," the anchor told the policeman.

The cop nodded. "It's hard to predict peoples' behavior, but I'm pretty confident that he won't find the slums so welcoming for long. Remaining in that part of the city at night is tantamount to suicide."

"Why do you care so much about this?" Terence asked me.

I glared at my roommate. "They're talking about my brother, Terence. I can't just sit idly by and watch them hunt him down. Something's got to be done about it!"

Terence frowned. "But what will you do? It's not exactly safe to go against the police here."

I knew he was right, even if I didn't want to admit it. But feeling so helpless, so unable to do anything to improve the situation…it wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I said.

"Hold up", Terence replied. "This might be a trap. At least, if it's the police, they'll try to get you to tell them where your brother is. They'd have the motive to do so, at any rate."

I shook my head. "It's not the police, Terence. They'd be trying to break down the door if it were them."

My roommate frowned again. "Nothing good happens after midnight. If it's not the police, it'll be someone else who wants something from you."

The doorbell rang again.

"I have to get it," I said, standing up from the couch and making my way over to the door.

Although I'd outwardly shot down Terence's fears about the police, I'll admit that on the inside, I had my reservations about answering the door. But it was the polite thing to do, so that's what I did.

On the other side of the door was a Ninetales. She looked somewhat thinner than I remembered her, but otherwise exactly the same as my brother's support Pokémon.

"Are you Alana?" I asked her.

The Ninetales nodded. "Yes, that's me."

I was speechless. I couldn't even begin to count the number of questions swirling around in my brain. How could this be happening?

"You have some explaining to do," I told Alana. "For instance, if Bryant and my parents didn't take you to the shelter, how did you survive the storm?"

The Ninetales shrugged. "Humans seem to forget just how durable Pokémon bodies are. We can survive far worse than a little storm."

I snorted. "It wasn't a 'little' storm, but okay. How did you get up here without being detected?"

As I asked that question, I motioned for Alana to come inside the apartment, and then shut the door.

"I used the fire escape," Alana replied. "Have you already forgotten just how agile we are?"

"No. And I'm not going to interrogate you any further. But my roommate might."

Terence got up off the couch and stared at Alana. "Who are you?" he all but snarled at the Ninetales.

"I'm Alana, Bryant's emotional support Ninetales" she told Terence. "And I came here because I heard my owner was missing. Do you have any idea where he is?"

"He was last seen in the Darkstar district" I said. "But beyond that, your guess is as good as mine. And the government's hunting him down."

Alana nodded gravely. "Yes, I heard about that too. It's just terrible, what they're doing…sending them to the island. I should have gone to one of the protests."

"That wouldn't have changed anything" Terence replied. "They don't care, at all."

"Still, doing something is better than doing nothing," Alana said. "And protesting is at least something."

"It's not worth it" I told the Ninetales. "You'd just have been arrested, and now we'd be worried about two members of the Forest family."

There was a long silence. I think Alana knew I was right. At last, Terence spoke up.

"Look. With all due respect, Alana, I don't think you should stay here. It's too risky, especially since Bryant probably thinks you're dead. And if we buy a bunch of kibble, we'll look suspicious."

"We can just tell the truth," I told Terence. "We can just say we adopted an Alolan Ninetales, and nothing about that is false. Of course, it's not the full story either."

Terence did not reply. That's how I knew I had won that argument.


To clarify: Those who have been Pokémon their whole lives can speak English, and therefore be understood by humans. Those who have transformed into Pokémon can only speak the Pokémon language, though they can understand English.

I'll see you guys next time!