START Chapter 6: This Episode on Survivor…

Shira Matsumoto

[Sunday, February 11, 2024. Chicago.]

Shira sat alone in the lobby of the Leona Monti Foundation building. There were other people waiting as well, but none of them were particularly talkative at 9 in the morning.

She tugged at her blouse, something she'd bought for formal events before the Catastrophe. It was a nice top, nice enough for a job interview. Itchy as hell though. Her jacket barely kept her warm in the frigid Chicago mornings.

"Miss Matsumoto? We're ready for you." A receptionist called out. Her name was Mandy, no Mindy. Shira tried to remember but her nerves had gotten the better of her. Shira stood up and patted herself down, trying to smother away the wrinkles in her pants.

"Here!" Shira said, walking over. The receptionist just smiled at her warmly, jotting down something in her clipboard while taking off at a fast pace. The 23-year-old grad student stepped through the doorway and followed her down the hall.

"This is the new Leona Monti Foundation building. Mr. Monti bought this place a few weeks ago, as a base of operations for the charity work…" the receptionist began to explain. "Mr. Antonin Monti started this organisation in honour of his mother…"

The two of them reached the end of the hallway, to another room. Mindy knocked on the door, before hurrying away back to the main lobby.

"Please come inside," a male voice said.

Shira took in a deep breath, and opened the door. It was a regular office, nothing too decorative or fancy adorning the walls. An older gentleman was sitting at his desk, scribbling down some notes on a legal pad. He had greying hair, neatly styled and combed back. His suit looked expensive but well-kept, judging from the neatly ironed folds. Antonin Monti, the man himself.

Why the hell was the boss himself interviewing for interns? Shira tensed up at the man in front of her.

"Good morning?" Shira greeted him.

"Good morning, Miss Matsumoto. Take a seat, if you would please." He gestured to an empty chair.

Shira sat down, noticing that there were a lot of half-packed boxes lying around the room. "Are you moving somewhere, sir?" she asked.

Mr. Monti just raised an eyebrow before smiling. "We're relocating our main offices over to the west coast. Easier for getting around that way."

"Oh," Shira responded. Quite the witty comeback. "I see."

Antonin quietly shifted through the pile of documents in front of him. Shira could make out her resume, and some other supplemental papers that she had attached to the application. He remained silent for a while, just reading through them. The two of them just sat there in silence while he was reading.

"Err… Do you have any questions for me, sir?" Shira finally asked after a few minutes had passed.

"Questions, Miss Matsumoto?" the man replied. He had a smile on his face but his eyes looked sharper than ever.

"This is an interview, right?"

"Right. Interviews normally have questions," Antonin stretched, rubbing his elbow with a wince. "What kind of questions should I be asking?"

"My qualifications, I guess."

"So, are you qualified?" he asked her. He'd all but set aside the documents in front of him, his eyes instead fixated on her own. Shira squirmed a bit in her seat, not knowing what to do.

She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just quieted down again.

Antonin just laughed. "Tell me, dear girl, what do you think about pokemon?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Pokemon. The creatures that have emerged since the Catastrophe. What do you think about them?"

"Umm…" Shira hesitated, trying to think about what to say. "They're animals with special powers."

"You're gonna have to give me a better answer than that, child. Think. What are pokemon?" Antonin asked.

Shira just shook her head. "I don't know what answer you're looking for… sir." She looked around the room, gesturing with her hands. "I honestly have no idea what this internship even is for. You're looking for Japanese speakers. You could probably find a couple dozen just by reaching out to nearby schools alone."

Antonin just nodded, signalling for her to continue. Shira let out a breath she'd been holding in.

"From what I can see, you're looking for something else. You asked me about pokemon. The most important connection between pokemon and Japan has been the development of pokeball technology in the SILPH programme. Logically, you're looking for some kind of buffer between SILPH and the Monti Foundation. If this were anyone else, I'd even say it could be corporate espionage."

"You flatter me, Shira," Antonin said. "We've barely met, and you're already throwing such accusations…"

Shira's face turned bright red as she shrunk down in her seat. "I didn't mean any offence…"

"None taken. You're right, to some extent. I could find as many Japanese speakers even within my own company," Antonin pointed to a folder. "You mentioned SILPH. I'm glad you did, it's an important factor for this job. In fact, I have a brilliant young man named Aka working for me in Tokyo. You might have heard of him? He's renowned for his archival endeavours on feudal Japan."

"Aka Akihiro? Y- yes, I have. I've heard of him."

"I'm sure he'd be delighted. Your professor Solomons knows him quite well. I've spoken to him before our meeting today for reference purposes." Antonin leaned forward. "Solomons holds you in the highest regards. Says you're the best and brightest of your cohort. A real up-and-comer in the museology world."

"Thank you?"

Antonin just waved her off. "Thank me for what? You've earned your lot in life, something that not a lot of people can say." He flipped through the rest of Shira's folder before closing it with gravitas. "I asked you about pokemon for a single reason, my dear."

He reached down into his desk and removed a binder. Propping it open, he showed it to the girl.

Dozens of creatures, all gargantuan in size, were plastered across the pages. Shira recognised some of them from the news. A reddish beast the size of a skyscraper tearing through the African continent. A blue whale submerging some small islands off the coast of Italy. All of them were the so-called legendary pokemon. The ones that had emerged from the meteorites of the Catastrophe.

"The age of humanity lies on the brink of extinction," Antonin said. "Our actions now will help prevent total annihilation."

"So what do you want from me?" Shira asked. Her fists were clenched at the horrifying images in front of her.

"Well, I plan on sticking around for a while longer. I was hoping that you'd join me, Miss Matsumoto."

"I don't get it… You're only looking for someone who can speak Japanese, right?"

"I'm afraid it is more complicated than that. We need you to manage something special for us."

"And what exactly do you need me to manage?" Shira asked. At this, Antonin pointed towards a picture of a yellow and black bird pokemon, with feathers that resembled spikes.

"Legendary pokemon. They are beings that are shrouded in our own history as much as they are foreign to us. I want you to help us learn more about them… and to hunt them down."

Holt Locke

[Somewhere, sometime.]

When I opened my eyes, the sun was just rising above the treeline. I was somewhere in the middle of a forest, the pungent smell of evergreens permeating in the air. Noises of active wildlife surrounded me, and I noticed in my peripheral vision some small creatures peering curiously at my still form.

Struggling to bring my hands up in front of me, I tried looking at them. They were an ugly red shade, small burns covering the tips of my fingers all the way up to my elbows. I could still feel the impact from that explosion lingering in my skin, a jittery and painful feeling that coursed through my muscles.

Needless to say, it was not a pleasant experience. Quite frankly, it hurt like hell. I propped myself up against a rock, just so I'd take the pressure off my back. Clutching my wounded wrists, I stared into the abyss of trees ahead of me.

And two glowing eyes stared back. I couldn't make out anything but the sharpness of their hue, glistening and locked onto me. Staring, unblinking and unmoving in my direction.

"Fuck," I wheezed. Even saying that one word felt like swallowing a safety pin. "Rodie, get ready for action-" I said, fishing out and clicking the herdier's pokeball. I tossed it on the ground in front of me, preparing for battle— but nothing happened.

The empty metal capsule flung open unceremoniously, showing itself to be devoid of any inhabitant. I shivered when I realised that I must not have recalled him during the explosion. I'd lost my only pokemon. My herdier. My Rodie.

The edges of my eyes began to blur out. An uncomfortable warmth trickled down my cheek. Then another, and another. Before I could tell what was happening, I began to sob. Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes, and they stung. As though my eyes were lemons being squeezed of all their juices.

So much had happened the last couple of days. It was overwhelming. My heart just could not take it anymore. I gurgled, a pitiful attempt at screaming the anguish away. I coughed and coughed trying to clear my throat. Then I turned to the treeline, remembering that I was not alone.

The eyes just kept staring back.

And I cried some more. The fear kept eating away at my heart. I was in the wild, alone, without even a pokemon partner to help me. I wouldn't survive the night.

"Want my advice, kid? That dog of yours, he isn't really yours now, is he?" Surge's words rang in my head. "Get yourself a proper partner."

Rodie was my partner. And I had failed him miserably. He was probably back at the explosion site, covered in debris and struggling to crawl out of the wreckage. If he wasn't already dead by now.

My thoughts went back to the voice I had heard, ordering that devastating attack. The man who had ordered for his koffing to use self-destruct, knocking me out of commission. Just who exactly was he? Some kind of terrorist? My mind went to black outfits, with a shiny red R worn proudly as a uniform.

There was no way that pokemon terrorists could exist already. We'd had these creatures for less than three months for fuck's sake. It was disheartening to think about the potential for unprecedented levels of destruction in the hands of organised crime. Not that it mattered much to me, stuck in the middle of nowhere. Dead men tell no tales.

"Come on out, you creep," I muttered at the trees. "I don't care anymore. COME OUT!"

The eyes just kept staring at me. Only this time, they began to grow ever so slightly. Emerging from the shadows, the figure floated out into the clearing.

It was a misdreavus. She levitated in the air, smiling and batting her eyes at me. It'd be adorable if it weren't so unnerving at the same time. There was a coldness, a presence that lurked within the shape of the misdreavus. The youthlike exterior masked something sinister within.

And this something sinister was being drawn towards me, inching slowly in my direction.

"What do you want?" I stammered. It took all of my willpower not to back away from the steadily advancing ghost type pokemon. "I'm not afraid of you."

Misdreavus just stared at me, no longer looking playful. Moreso just curious. Its eyes had a faint twinkle in them, as if it knew something that I didn't. A strange kind of ethereal wisdom.

I unclipped a pokeball from my belt. Of the twenty or so of the capsules that Surge had given me, I only had about four of them left on my person. The rest of them were presumably destroyed in the bus explosion, or still in the smoking remains of the backpack. Not important.

Waving the pokeball in front of me threateningly, I tried to take a step forward with the sphere in hand. Misdreavus didn't flinch, just continuing to stare at me while floating in the air.

"I don't want to have to use this, ghosty. Just stay back…" I mumbled. Realistically, there was nothing I could do to this misdreavus in my weakened state. I couldn't outrun it and I sure as hell couldn't fight. All I could do was stand my ground, and pray that I didn't look like a premium soul-burger.

The wild misdreavus just made a giggling noise, bobbing up and down in the air. She opened up her mouth and spewed out a few pale blue orbs. The orbs circled around her, shimmering and bursting open into colourless flames.

Another figure began to form from the fire. A woman, who looked to be in her 30's. Miranda Stone.

"Holt. I just wanted to tell you that I haven't forgotten what you did for me. I'm serious about helping you. If you need anything, let me know."

The Miranda in the flames cackled, before morphing once more into a different shape. This time, it took the form of my mother. The Great and Terrible Madame Kim.

"You made your choice. Go play your games, Hyun. Throw your future away. Just don't come back," the voice spat out. The image of my mother looked as horrifying as the day I had left home, never to return. Everything down to the minute details looked the same. "You're not my son."

I turned to the misdreavus, who was peering into the conjured flames with a pensive expression on her face. She looked… sad?

The flames shifted shape once more. This time, it turned into me. Well, a younger version of me. Seventeen years old, with a wild head of untrimmed hair. The image was of me entering my final pokemon competition.

"Here we have the Top 16 in the VGC Masters division! Congratulations to all of you who have made it so far, you should be incredibly proud of yourselves…"

More figures emerged from the fire. This time, the flames expanded until the entire clearing was filled with faux people.

"At this table, we have newcomer Hyun Lee facing off against Roger Hillman! Roger, as we know, has been in the VGC scene since 2012…"

Fake-Me was clutching tightly onto his 3DS, eyes never daring to stray from the screen. Though the image had a blue tint overall, I could see its knuckles whitening. He was down 0-1, and going into game 2. I remembered this day as one of the worst days of my life. The day I had walked away from pokemon, seemingly for forever.

"Roger starts off strong with his terrakion and whimsicott combination! It looks like he's just clicking the same two buttons over and over again? Mr. Lee can't do anything, as his entire team is wiped by the Beat Up & Justified duo. Down goes mega salamence! Down goes primal groudon! It's all over, Roger Hillman will progress to the Top 8…"

The flames of Roger Hillman, the announcer, all disappeared one by one. Only the image of me remained, trembling and silent. Fake-Me just sat there, staring at his 3DS. Then he slowly picked up a clenched fist, before bringing it down on the device. Slamming it over and over again until the screen was cracked beyond recognition. The shards of glass had gotten everywhere, and a small trail of blood could be seen. The mirage of myself just stared at his scratched palms, sobbing. "I- I can't…" he said.

And then the mystical fire vanished. Once more, it was just me and the misdreavus alone in the clearing. She had a sheepish look on her face. In a past life, I would've thought it to be adorable. Instead, I was frozen with fear. My entire body was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.

I gripped the pokeball in my hands tighter than ever. Staring down the misdreavus, I had to force myself to breathe and try to figure out how to get out of this alive.

Surprisingly, the misdreavus just fluttered in front of me. Babbling like a child, she hovered closer until she was just an arm's length away, eyeing the pokeball that I held.

"What do you want?" I asked again. She just came even closer, just barely not touching my skin. "I don't want to catch you. Go away," I said.

She ignored me, pressing up against the pokeball. When she brushed up against my fingers, I felt a cold sensation rushing through my veins. This creature in front of me was unnatural, a complete turn from the laws of nature that I had known. She wasn't a dog, or any other kind of household pet.

This was a pokemon. Brought to life by god knows what.

The voice of Miranda echoed throughout the clearing again. "I'm serious about helping you."

"I don't want your help. Please leave me alone."

"You made your choice." This time, the voice of my mother came from the ghost. Instead of a cold, hurtful tone however, this one was full of warmth. The kind of warmth that I had never expected to hear again from the woman that had given me so much pain in a past life.

"I didn't choose anything. GO AWAY."

My own voice whispered back to me.

"I can't."

And the misdreavus nudged the small button on the pokeball. I was helpless to stop her as a flash of light enveloped the capsule, shrinking down the ghost pokemon until it was swallowed up by the sphere.

No shaking. The pokeball clicked, and the capture was complete. It felt warm in my hands, and in that moment something else also clicked inside of me.

A burst of warmth and joy erupted in my chest. All of the worries, the fears, the stress melted away as though they were nothing but a horrible dream. I felt complete for the first time in a while. I had finally found something, someone, to join me. I no longer felt so alone.

Quickly, as though I had done it a hundred times before, I threw the pokeball into the air. Misdreavus was released once more, this time shining ever so differently. I felt a connection between myself and this ghost. This ghost who understood me better than anyone else.

Perhaps I was being manipulated by this spectre. After all, it was a ghost type pokemon. But somehow I doubted that. She needed to show me my past traumas as a way of testing me. And I passed, which made me worthy of being her partner.

At that moment, I made a promise. No longer would I stand by and let the changing world send me adrift. No. I would ride the tide, and take charge of my own destiny for once. With this pokemon by my side, nothing could go wrong. I would use what knowledge I had to come out of my shell, to emerge stronger than before.

Miranda, my mother, Roger Hillman, and my own pale face stared back at me inside of my head.

Only this time, I smiled.

I was no longer alone in this fight. Misdreavus and I would stand together in this new world.

Ayaa Nguyen

"-this is absolutely ridiculous. We cannot let this kind of unregulated power fall into the hands of civilians. What kind of stupid name is a pokeball?"

'Educated men' from the most prestigious schools around the nation were shouting at each other like children in a playground. Ayaa watched on with tired eyes as she feebly tried to control them.

"Look at what happened to Okolacajit! I'm telling you, it was that bastard Monti that killed him." a man in a baby blue suit yelled. Congressman Zachary from Tennessee.

"You have no proof that Mr. Monti has any connection to the death of our congressman. Please refrain from making such slanderous statements." Ayaa said, coldly. "Antonin Monti has provided much support in disaster-ridden communities, especially in the bigger cities."

The Capitol Building, the very heart of American democracy, was currently in an emergency session. With news of the spread of pokeball technology into the United States, Congress had gone into overtime in order to tackle this issue.

An issue that involved national security and therefore the president herself. If given the choice, she'd have opted to sit out of this group of squabbling children.

"Let's return to the issue at hand. We now know that pokeball technology has now been made public. SILPH has cut all connections to our government, and the Japanese prime minister is demanding answers. I'd like to know myself, how pokeballs have been developed so quickly and mass produced at this level," Ayaa said. "Does anyone have any insight that they can provide?"

Senator Santos from Michigan raised his hand. Nguyen gestured for him to speak.

"I have reason to believe that there are several factories in the U.P.- I'm sorry, the upper peninsula of my home state, as well as a few in Lansing and the Detroit metropolitan area. Governor Mikkael has given me full clearance to provide this information," Santos said. He walked up to the bench and handed Ayaa a few documents.

"Do we know who these factories belong to?" Ayaa asked, flipping through the folder. She was irritated when she noticed the date stamp being over a week old, showing that Mikkael had known about this but chose not to share it with her administration.

"No. There are no judges that are willing to issue a warrant for these factories, and Governor Mikkael refuses to ignore proper protocol before conducting any kind of searches. He did ask me to keep you in the loop while he's gathering more intelligence."

"Mikkael is a fucking bum. Ignore him, Ayaa. Send a SWAT team-" One of the representatives from South Carolina said.

"It's President Nguyen, congressman," Santos said.

"Well, President Nguyen. Why don't you get off your fucking high horse and let the men do a man's job? We all know you're the president because the other guy bit the dust."

"You will not speak to me that way, Mr. Krump," Ayaa said. She glared at the man, who grumbled while sitting back down. "Now, if you can politely tell us what you are proposing? Without the swearing, please."

"Send in special ops. Take control of these factories and show an example that the government will not tolerate this kind of behaviour."

"I don't believe that is necessary," another voice chimed in. Ayaa turned her head to see who was speaking, a man who looked to be in his 30s stood up in the sixth aisle. Despite not using a microphone, his voice carried throughout the entire room. "There is a better alternative."

"Who the fuck are y-" Congressman Krump began to speak up, but suddenly started gasping for air. He grabbed his throat as though he were choking.

"My name is Petrel. I am the new senator from Illinois," the man revealed. "And this is the power of pokemon." He waved his hand. A small yellow and brown creature emerged from behind him, with a long yellow nose. "Members of Congress, meet my friend Drowzee."

The room burst into life with outrage. Some members scrambled out of their seats in fear, others screaming their heads off at the man in front of him and the pokemon in his company.

Ayaa remained still, her heart racing. This man Petrel had brought a pokemon into the congressional chambers. One that was evidently capable of suffocating Congressman Krump with just its mind, and only God knew what else.

"Everyone remain calm and take your seats! Please have your creature release our congressman, Mr. Petrel," Ayaa finally said. "Now."

Petrel just nodded and snapped his fingers. Krump sagged to the ground unceremoniously, bumping his head on the desk in front of him.

"Now could you tell us what your alternative is, Senator Petrel?" Ayaa asked.

"It's simple enough," Petrel said. He waved his hand again, a stack of papers appearing from thin air. "We make owning and raising pokemon official. Licensing and distributing pokeballs, so that we can have actual oversight."

"That's ridiculous!"

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

Some more dissenting voices popped up throughout the room. Suddenly a wave of some kind rushed through Ayaa's head. The room went silent once again as this energy stopped people from speaking.

"AS I was saying," Petrel continued, "Japan is already trying it. They're calling it the trainer initiative. I have it on a good faith basis that there are some states that have implemented it as well…"

Ayaa looked over at the empty chairs in the room. Noticeably absent were the representatives from Washington and California, two states that had been missing from most congressional meetings since January.

"As long as we make sure that providing pokeball technology is a government operation, then it can be done safely. My office has drafted some plans for how to manage this," Petrel said. Once again he waved his hand and this time stacks of papers appeared in front of every single person in the room. Ayaa included. "A base camp in Olympia has produced some fascinating results, which you can all observe in the email that should have been sent to you… now."

Several devices throughout the room began to vibrate. Everyone that was present began checking their phones, eyes widening at the embedded footage.

"We'll take some time to look through these, Senator," Ayaa finally said after leafing through the first couple of pages on her desk. "Until then, we will have to take you into custody."

Petrel just smiled.

"I would expect nothing less, Madam President. I trust that you'll treat me fairly."

Six members of the security team quickly escorted the younger man out of the chambers, eyeing the pokemon next to him carefully. While following them, Petrel nodded, and the creature just winked out of existence. Once they were out of her line of sight, Ayaa slinked backwards into her chair.

She glanced at the documents in front of her. The folder from Santos about the pokeball factories and the loose papers that Petrel had conjured up.

This was now a matter of national security and she had no idea what to do next.

END Chapter 6: This Episode on Survivor…

A/N: Currently reading Hard Enough - Pokemon SI by Viva01. The writing is incredibly inspirational and I really recommend it for anyone that is interested in self insert-type fiction. Not much else in terms of updates on my end. I finished finals week at uni not too long ago, so there was some delay in getting the next chapter out. Hopefully, I can bounce back better than before. Let me know if there are any major issues that I could improve upon! Until then, it has been a pleasure writing for y'all. I must profess to being a major simp for reviews. Indulge me, fair members of this community. Let me know if I should bump this up to an M rating at any point.

Main Character: Holt Locke (24)

Misdreavus (F) [Misdreavus]: captured after it willingly joins him in some forest

Side Characters:

Shira Matsumoto (23): graduate student in museology at the University of Chicago, friend of Tetsuya Mueller, potential intern for the Leona Monti Foundation

Antonin Monti Giovanni (46): founder of the Leona Monti Foundation, and other properties

Ayaa Nguyen: President of the United States of America