START Chapter 9: Tensions, intentions
"In times of unprecedented peril, perhaps, we see unprecedented cooperation among the many heads of the global community. Such was the first official meeting of the International Trainer Association. It was a momentous occasion. Even the great council in Potsdam pales in comparison to the first convention in Berlin on February 24th, 2024."
-Ayaa Nguyen, Memoirs (2025)
International Trainer Association
[Wednesday, February 21, 2024. Berlin.]
"With the most recent reports from the Tripoli Commission, we've been able to finalise the classification system for the titan-class creatures of pokemon. Based on the potential threat to humanity, we've determined the major and minor legendary status for most of the creatures that have emerged from the Catastrophe meteorites themselves," one of the German representatives said. "Any objections to the major/minor system?"
A wave of nays flushed throughout the meeting chamber. Some were more hesitant than others, specifically from the South Korean delegation. Yet finally, after three hours of fierce debate, this matter finally came to rest.
"Next on our agenda, we must discuss a rather heated topic. Would Japanese ambassador Katsura please start us off with her opening remarks?" the German man asked, nodding towards the 50-year-old woman from Kyoto.
"I would love to," she replied, in her native tongue. Tapping her microphone once, she spoke into it with a deep and tired voice. "The Trainer Initiative, as we have started in my home country, aims to enable private citizens to capture and train pokemon while under strict government oversight. Specifically, we are trying to find people who have a unique compatibility with these creatures, in order to accelerate the level of research that goes into them…"
"You mean kids, Ambassador?" one of the Turkish delegates chimed in. Katsura frowned at this, her tight smile morphing into a scowl.
"Yes, children. Specifically those between the ages of fourteen and twenty-three have been found to be the most capable of taming these creatures," she replied. "Anyone older than that, well, they'll have to work twice as hard. It's still achievable, just not as efficient of a process."
Quick murmuring could be heard echoing all throughout the chamber. One of the Polish representatives even spat on the ground of the polished marble floor, which earned him a glare from their German hosts.
"You're aiming to weaponise children in order to train these pokemon. Is the Japanese government engaging in active war efforts at this time?" Johan Scheizt asked, one of the two Americans present in the meeting.
"Strictly for national security. It's all on a volunteer basis, and SILPH has been funding many research projects to make sure that any and all participants are completely safe…"
"Don't try to feed us any bullshit that even you don't believe, Katsura," Scheizt retorted. "Tell us about Hibiki, your little weapon against the rest of the world."
"Considering you Americans have your own Project R.E.D., you are in no place to be judging our government for using younger subjects in our efforts, Mr. Sheizt," Katsura retorted.
All the eyes darted back to the American representative.
The entire room almost broke out into outrage as Sheizt returned to his seat, still visibly fuming from the Japanese woman's clapback.
"Officer Hibiki is a fully consenting adult member of our police force. He and his typhlosion have proven indispensable towards maintaining order in our country. Please refrain from any slanderous accusations. Tell us, how is young Mr. RED. doing nowadays? Is he still roaming the countryside on his giant orange dragon, not beholden to any kind of oversight? Your criticism is laughable, Johan."
Sheitz moved to respond, but Ayaa Nguyen cut him off. "We would like to move this topic along to a later date. There's no need for any mistrust between us. As you know, the Leona Monti Foundation has been very generous with their unlimited support in providing pokeball technology all across the western hemisphere. We understand that SILPH is doing much the same for the east, so if we could put our conflicts aside for the time being, then we can focus on the important matters for today's session. Is there anything else that we would like to talk about? Anything of importance?"
The Korean representative, Mr. Ahn, quietly spoke into his own microphone. "I'd like to bring up the issue of the Hokkaido secession movement that has been going under way. Would Ms. Katsura please provide us with an update on that particular issue?"
Katsura just grimaced, shirking away from the Korean man. "Negotiations are still undergoing. Any new developments are currently happening as we speak, so we are as blind as everyone else in this room," she said, glancing at her fellow countrymen for approval. "As President Nguyen has said, SILPH is currently the number one provider of pokeballs in the world. We are encouraging trainer participation for any countries that are currently receiving pokeballs from us at this time. So I agree: let's move on."
The presenter just nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Sehr gut. Would our associates from Paris please remind us of our other agenda for today, regarding the potential taming of legendary pokemon?"
A hush fell over the still-bickering members of the committee. All eyes fell upon the two representatives from France, who stared back with cold and knowing glints in their gazes.
Taming legendary pokemon, an idea that was so ridiculous that it absolutely demanded the full attention of the room. For every word, the two French ambassadors knew that the entire global community was listening intensely.
"Sirs and ladies," one of the men began to speak, his voice barely louder than a breath, "I am Lloyd Paluch and this is my associate Safir Lunes. We have grand news to share with you all today."
A screen descended next to the lecter's podium, which nudged the German presenter to the side. After blinking to life, the screen displayed the ruined image of one of the historic monuments of Paris.
"Behold the remains of Notre Dame, the heart and soul of France," Paluch said, with what seemed to be a faux wistful tone. Though the flames had long since died out, the charred remains of the Catastrophe was ever present in the image of the cathedral. Meteorite fragments glistened under the sunlight.
"We've seen the damage reports, monsieur," the delegate from Canada, Trubec, shouted out from his seat. Lunes shot him a glare, and the other man quieted down instantly.
"Indeed you have. I am sure you have all heard of the tragedy of Notre Dame, centuries of history burning down under the weight of alien rubble…" Paluch continued. As he nodded towards one of his aides, suddenly the image began to quiver ever so slightly. The stones of the broken church were glowing with an ethereal light, slowly enveloping the streets around them.
A deerlike figure trotted into view of the camera, nimbly stepping between the loose cobbles while showering the ground with grass. New life sprung from its hooves, flowers blooming and wilting in rapid succession with every step that it took.
Now the rubble of the cathedral slowly began to shift back into place. Blackened stone cleansed itself of all signs of wear and tear, assembling Notre Dame to its former glory. The roof, which had collapsed under the meteorite, knitted together with strands of silver being embedded between the tiles.
Of the many gawking faces, Ayaa Nguyen alone tore her gaze away from the screen to stare at the two Frenchmen a few seats away from her. She noticed their eyes, shimmering in both delight and some unquenchable thirst for power - power that this creature on the screen wielded for itself.
Nothing short of divine, that's what Nguyen would have called the sight of Notre Dame's reconstruction. The sight of the godlike deer was mesmerising. She could have stared at it for days with no lack of wonder. Yet something within her heart stopped her from getting too drawn into the picture. A void of sorts that nestled itself deep inside her chest. Nguyen shuddered. The room had just gotten colder.
Then almost as soon as it had begun, the projector flickered out of life and the deer disappeared from the screen.
"That, my friends, was Xerneas," Paluch finally said after the room had snapped out of its stupor. "It had the power to destroy, but more importantly…"
Both of the French representatives stood up as Paluch finished his words.
"If we are able to tame it… it has the power to create, beyond anything we could have ever imagined."
"What makes you think you can tame those monsters?" the Turkish delegate spat.
"Our top investigators have pinpointed a few legendary pokemon that emerged from Catastrophe rocks with minimal collateral damage. Suicune in Seattle, USA. Azelf in Dalian, China… Regigigas in Jeonju, South Korea." Safir Lunes, the other French representative, responded. "Xerneas, though it was catastrophic at first, has since been rather tame in its reactions to humans."
"Everyone here saw the video, it destroyed the Notre Dame cathedral." the Turkish man countered.
"What has been destroyed can be rebuilt. Your country is much the same, non?" Paluch said. "The important thing is to think of the future. That is the purpose of the International Trainer Association, and that is why we are all gathered here today. Ladies and gentlemen, let's discuss the future."
[Thursday, February 22, 2024.]
"With the approval of the worldwide Trainer Initiative, our federal government has ratified one of the first international treatises in decades. Congress was almost unanimous in this decision, which has sparked many questions about the future of American sovereignty in this growing world of pokemon. Critics have emerged, asking questions on Nguyen's credibility as a leader. However, with the full financial backing of the Leona Monti Foundation and the ever elusive Mr. Monti himself, only time will tell how President Nguyen's gamble will pay off. This has been Lawrence Aberdeen…"
Holt Locke
[Thursday, February 22, 2024. Seattle.]
I expected a lot of things from my reunion with Clayton. The kindness he had shown me in the first few days after the Catastrophe had given me a great deal of respect for the man. He was a leader, someone who I could trust to follow to the ends of the earth.
When he walked through the hotel doors and spotted me, he proceeded to slam a backhanded fist into my throat. I immediately folded like a sheet of paper, collapsing onto my knees.
"YOU STUPID BOY!" Clayton snarled, two fists grabbing my shirt and keeping me from diving to the ground. "You arrogant, stupid, selfish little bastard."
"Hold up Clayt-" Surge began, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder. Clayton just shrugged it off and shoved the lieutenant backwards. By pushing Surge, he let go of me and I just sort of plopped onto the hotel floor.
"Back the hell off, Matis. This ain't concerning yew."
Clayton drove the tip of his boot into my ribcage, bruising what I'd expected were already-bruised ribs. The coldness of his dull metal spur pierced sharply into my stomach. He flipped me around onto my back, staring into me with a dark look in his eyes.
"Outside, boy." He pulled me up onto my feet, which was hard since I'd gotten the wind knocked out of me. Gripping tightly onto my forearm, he marched me back outside of the building and to a relatively empty part of the parking lot.
A few drops of rain pattered on my face. Moving through the pain, I managed to steal a glance up at the sky. Gloomy and dark clouds were threatening to drown me with the very elements.
Once we were outside and away from the prying eyes of the hotel employees, Clayton cuffed me in the side of my head, sending me spiralling back to the ground. I could feel the gravel digging into my knees and drawing some blood as I struggled to get back up.
"Them pokeballs on your side, boy. Got a replacement for Rodie already, huh?" Clayton spat out.
"No, let me expla-" I began to stammer out.
"Shut it. Pull out yer new partner, kid," Clayton said. He unclipped a pokeball, which confused me. This was the same man who had entrusted his herdier to me, since he thought I'd make for a better trainer.
Clearly something was very off with this scene. But Clayton's murderous gaze kicked me into action. I grabbed my misdreavus's pokeball from my pocket and quickly tossed it out onto the ground in front of me.
"Nimbasa!" I shouted out. "Get ready for anything…"
Clayton stared at my ghost type for a few seconds before finally releasing his own pokemon. A mole-like creature emerged from the capsule, which I recognised as a drilbur. Since when the hell did Clay-
The needle that had been holding back that tense fabric of denial within me, finally snapped. Everything from the moment those meteorites crashed upon the planet's surface began churning around in my head all at once. This was the same man who had saved my life, who'd entrusted me with his wife's partner pokemon…
Now? He was the enemy. Regret could come later, but it was time for action.
"Will-o-wisp, on the ground so he can't burrow down!" I commanded.
"Don't bother burrowing. Sharpen your weapons, use hone claw!" Clayton said. Drilbur stood in place, whetting his sharp hands against the pavement with a sickening scraping sound. In the moment that it took the misdreavus to spew out the ghastly flames, Clayton's partner was already in a buffed position.
"Hit 'em with another will-o-wisp! This time aim for it directly."
"Tank it. Another hone claw!" Clayton shouted out.
Nimbasa gurgled out a nonsensical sound, along with two pale orbs of flame which thudded into the mole pokemon. Drilbur screeched in pain as the fire type attack coursed through his body. From the slightly more slumped shoulders, I could tell that the drilbur's attacking power was somewhat reduced.
"Now shoot off a hex attack!" I said.
Nimbasa squealed in joy before immersing herself in some otherworldly chant that circled around the drilbur, rupturing the burn marks and inflicting nigh on double the damage.
"Bulldoze," Clayton said, calmly staring into my eyes. He looked… disappointed, almost.
I shot him a nervous look. "Bulldoze won't work on my misdreavus since she floats in the ai-" I was cut off by the sight of my partner being pummelled by several feet of dirt and gravel that emerged from the cracks of the asphalt. Nimbasa crumpled to the ground, before carefully peeling herself away from the sidewalk.
"You alright there, girl?" I asked her. She gave me a side eye wink before nodding vigorously.
Just then, another voice rang through our battle.
"Wrap up soon, will ya? My new protege here is getting really tired of waiting around. She just flew in from Chicago, for cryin' out loud." Surge exclaimed.
"It's fine, Mr. Lieutenant, sir," another voice replied. I turned away from Clayton for just the briefest of moments to see who was talking. It was another Asian-looking girl, who had light brown eyes and a tightly braided head of hair. She looked to be about my age, maybe even a year or so younger.
Prying my eyes away from the stranger, I focused back on the battle at hand. The situation had gone from manageable to completely blown out of proportion at this point. Clayton's drilbur had managed to toughen itself up with the hone claws attack, which was not great for me. And considering that its bulldoze had somehow managed to hit my levitating misdreavus…
"Drilbur has mold breaker- or, or whatever that translates to.. Fuck."
Just when it reached the point where I considered throwing in the towel, I noticed that drilbur was moving a bit too organised for a supposedly fresh capture. It had incredible discipline, and was actively scanning for chinks in Nimbasa's defences…
All the signs pointed to Surge's strict training regiment as the reason that the drilbur seemed much more relaxed and loose while in combat. Which meant I now had a weakness to exploit.
"Nimbasa, taunt 'em."
Misdreavus started moving immediately, sending shrieks of some kind in the drilbur's direction. This seemed to agitate the mole pokemon, forcing it out of its forced stance.
"Gotta keep moving, Clay. Don't need nothin' fancy, cowboy. Gotta keep moving," Surge shouted out.
"I know what I'm doing," Clayton replied, his brows furrowed up. "Drilbur! Shake it off. Another bulldoze, git that thing."
Drilbur tried to compose himself, but another look at Nimbasa had him in a fit of rage. He rushed my misdreavus, swiping away like a crazed man with a machete. Despite all that buffed up attack, somehow I knew.
I knew that this fight was drawing to a close.
"Misdreavus, extrasen- err, confusion," I shouted out. Nimbasa gave me a slight tilt of the head before her eyes narrowed towards the drilbur. The gravel around his feet began to tremble ever so slightly, but nothing much else. "Sorry, try a hex again."
With a yelp, her eyes glowed red. And drilbur was out for the count, dropping cold onto the ground.
"And we have a winner!" Surge yelled.
Recalling Nimbasa to her pokeball, I looked up to see Clayton's empty eyes staring back at mine. For a few seconds, I saw the man who had helped patch up my wounded body.
Then I saw Rodie. Standing next to Clayton, the dog who was charred and blackened and red all over.
And alive.
"I guess we could start with some introductions," Clayton finally said, begrudgingly handing me an ice-cold bottle of water.
I took it without much of a thought, my eyes not leaving the herdier that was by his side, whimpering. The dog's eyes seemed ever so slightly glazed over, as though the attack had blinded him somewhat. A fresh pang of guilt washed through my body, and I had to stop myself from gagging.
"I can start us off… My name is Clayton McArnol. Folks around here call me Clay."
The asian girl looked around the room before clearing her throat. "I'm Shira Matsumoto," she said. "I research Museology at the University of Chicago."
"The heck is museology? Sounds like you deal with fossils and shit," Surge said. "My name's Matis Vermuth. Lieutenant Vermuth, or Surge as Holty boy here like to call me."
At the mention of my name, I tore my eyes away from Rodie. Realising that everyone was looking at me expectantly, I quickly introduced myself as well.
"I'm Holt Locke. I guess you could call me a trainer."
Clayton snorted, which earned himself a glare from Surge. The girl- Shira, looked at them with a confused look on her face.
"And my name is Joseph Stone," another voice announced. It was an older gentleman, one who bore a striking resemblance to my former boss Miranda. If that wasn't enough, however, a nagging voice in the back of my head perked up at the mention of his full name.
But where the hell had I heard of Joseph Stone before? A Forbes magazine or something, maybe.
"Clay, I know you have your own grudges to settle. But trust me, we've got bigger issues to talk about now," Joseph continued to speak. Clayton just grunted, before crossing his arms and looking anywhere in the room but at me.
"What's the verdict from the ITA, Mr. Stone?" Surge asked. At this, Shira raised an eyebrow but remained silent.
"We have to send them two names. One for Portland and one for Seattle. Regional leaders, to handle all of their pokemon-related administration. Preferably by the end of this meeting," Joseph replied.
"Well that's easy then, just send me and Holt. We'll take care of it, won't we?" Surge said, cupping me on the back.
Joseph just shook his head. "You're pretty much a slot-in, Matis. Lord knows we haven't got half as much talent as you in the whole PNW." He then looked at me, with an apologetic look in his eyes. "Mr. Locke, on the other hand, it's a whole different story."
When nobody else said anything, Joseph continued talking.
"Nguyen made it very clear that she wants more than just battling smarts. She wants people that have an active role in communities. People that care more than just getting the strongest pokemon and being the very best fighters in the area." He shifted his gaze from me to Clayton. "People like you, McArnol."
Clayton looked slightly shocked, but regained his composure immediately. "No. I never did like battling. Not for me. I just wanna get back to my bar, to my ranch. Wash my hands of this whole damn business."
Surge, looking almost offended, glared at the cowboy. "Your country is calling you. Sometimes we gotta put aside what we want, and serve. That's the meaning of leadership."
"Don't you lecture me young man."
"You're not that old. Stop tryna be a sage and do the right thing."
"Gentlemen, kindly shut up," Joseph interjected. "Now, the choice is ultimately up to you Clay. You can leave it and then I'll offer the job to Holt. But people trust you. Your words have a lot of weight around here, and I'll be damned if you're not one of the best people for the job."
Clayton just looked down, a grimace plastered across his face. Sort of like that one guy from all those old Clint Eastwood films… Clint Eastwood, I mean.
"Fine, I'll do it," he finally said.
"Good. That only leaves the matter of what to do with you, Holt," Joseph said.
I looked around at all of the expectant faces surrounding me. What exactly did Joseph mean by that? I voiced my concerns, which earned half a chuckle.
"You'll be working as President Nguyen's eyes and ears, if you'll accept her job offer. The government respects talent, and we both know that you've got that in bucket loads. Now, the regional leader posting ain't right for you, maybe, but there's even more important work out there that needs to be done. That's where you fit in."
"And how exactly do I fit into your grand scheme?" I asked.
"It's simple, really. You're to take Miss Matsumoto here and-"
"Hold on. I'm not a part of your group," Shira butted in.
"Actually, cupcake, that's not quite true," Surge said. "Alice gave me very clear instructions. So long as you're with me, you obey my commands. You'll eat, sleep, and shit on my watch."
"...You're gonna watch me shit?" Shira asked.
"What? No, it's a figure of speech!"
At his reddening face, the rest of the group laughed. Even Clayton managed to crack a smile before a scowl quickly replaced it. Shira just shrugged, grinning.
"Anyways. Holt, you're gonna take Miss Matsumoto and teach her whatever you know about pokemon battling. Matis trusts you, and you've proven yourself to be as capable of a battler as him. You'll be travelling to Los Angeles by car — which we'll provide — and reporting to one of the Leona Monti Foundation agents that are stationed there. The Foundation will pay for all of your travel expenses, as well as my own company," Joseph said.
"I thought the lieutenant was supposed to be 'training' me," Shira said.
Surge cocked his head, shrugging. "It'll be better if Holt takes you on. With this new gig, I'll be too busy to give you the attention you need. Plus…" he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, "Holt here is more your age. It'll be good to have a friend. Someone to watch your six."
Shira looked like she wanted to say something but just swallowed and nodded.
"If we're done with the main points, I think Clayton deserves the floor. There's that… other situation that we should set to rest now," Joseph said.
Clayton spat on the floor, licking his teeth. "Right, Rodie."
At the mention of his name, the injured pokemon raised his head and stared at our direction.
"Even though you ditched him, he's still eager to follow you. Might be that damned pokeball that's messing with his mind, but he's still as loyal as they come," Clayton began, with an almost fond expression on his face. "None of the pokeballs I use on him seem to be working, which means that-"
Before he could keep talking, I pulled out Rodie's battered pokeball from my pocket and gently placed it in his hands.
"It's his pokeball. Take it."
Clayton looked enraged. He opened his mouth, appearing as though he'd scream at me but I cut him off.
"I don't deserve him. He was an amazing partner, the best one that anyone could ask for. But right now, he needs to rest and recover. Being on the road again will… it'll only hurt him. I know I screwed up, but please forgive me, Clayton. Please."
At my pleading, Clayton's fury seemed to waver, before disappearing almost entirely.
"That's all I've been waiting to hear. Some goddamn accountability," he said. I could spot a small glistening in his eye that disappeared as soon as it threatened to fall. "It's… it's not your fault, kid. I know that. You did good, saving all those folks on the bus."
"I'm sorry. The first thing I should've done was to make sure that Rodie was safe…" I mumbled.
Clayton just shook his head. "I won't deny that seeing him in that shape threw me off. I was mad at you and I still am, but…" He adjusted his hat to cover the top of his eyes. "If at least one more life was spared, then Rodie was a good boy. I'm proud of him, and I always will be. He's a good boy."
In a flash of light, Rodie was recaptured inside of his pokeball. The whimpers of pain that had been almost like a background noise disappeared with him. The room went silent as the herdier was recalled. Clayton cradled the pokeball in his hands, as one would cradle a delicate ornament or an expensive piece of jewellery.
And perhaps one of my greatest wrongs was starting to be righted. Even if it was ever so slightly. I resisted the urge to shed a tear or two myself, recognising the weight of what had just transpired.
END Chapter 9: Tensions, intentions
A/N: Just finished watching Million Dollar Baby. Really made me cry, almost. I'm really sorry for taking a small break from uploading this story. It was incredibly hard trying to pin down some of the more delicate moments, and the International Trainer Association meeting was a pain trying to create. Apologies for delving a bit too much into the political ramifications of this world. Balancing between effective world-building and engaging storytelling will be a trial and error process for me.
Main Character: Holt Locke (24)
Nimbasa (F) [Misdreavus]: captured after it willingly joins him in Pinwheel Forest
Side Characters:
Shira Matsumoto (23): graduate student in museology at the University of Chicago, friend of Tetsuya Mueller, now a fully-fledged intern for the Leona Monti Foundation and sent on mission to Seattle with her boss, Alice.
Clayton McArnol (47): owned a bar in Seattle with his wife who has since passed away, the owner of Rodie the herdier and currently acting as the leader of the Seattle Pokemon Trainer Committee. Has shown a surprising degree of skill with pokemon, with an affinity with ground types.
Matis "Surge" Vermuth (36): member of the Leona Monti Foundation and elected as one of the regional leaders of the federal International Trainer Association for Seattle. He is known for his use of electric type pokemon, based on his former training as a U.S. marine and expertise in combat on-site engineering.