I've decided on a posting schedule: Starting today, every Sunday. Weekly. I've got a friend on Discord (where I am SnowLabrador #7822) who has agreed to be my accountability partner on this.
Thank you all for reviewing Chapter 3 and giving me your feedback. I have decided to give the political parties names - which are the same names as the major parties in my IRL country. Yeah, I was a bit lazy on that. But I'm still having great fun with this story, so enjoy this chapter!
Current music: Move Along - The All-American Rejects
Ash reclined in an armchair, his legs propped up on a nearby coffee table. He was careful, however, not to knock over the plate of donuts and other pastries that had been placed there. He had just enough sense left in him to avoid doing so.
Seated across from Ash were Serena and Brock. Ash's girlfriend was currently scrolling through her phone, a look of utmost consternation in her eyes. Every so often, she would glance up from her mobile device to see how her boyfriend was taking the news, but she then returned to what some would call "doomscrolling."
Brock, meanwhile, had a lemon poppy seed muffin in hand, and kept taking small bites out of it. In between bites, he would nod at something Serena had just said.
Ash sighed. He'd known this day would come, of course. It had been inevitable from the moment he'd announced his campaign; if he'd expected the universe to just hand him the nomination on a silver platter, he was in for a rude awakening.
"So you're saying that I have an opponent now?" Ash mumbled, sitting up a little straighter.
Serena nodded grimly. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. But it looked like you weren't paying attention. Did you honestly think you'd be unopposed?"
"Well, no."
"Exactly," Brock shot back. "Part of running for office is running against another candidate. If there was only one option, it wouldn't be a democracy, would it?"
"Look at it this way, Ash," Serena jumped in. "You've got two tasks. Yes, you have to tout your own selling points and make sure the voters know why you're the best candidate for Unova at this moment. But you also have to show people why your opponent is an awful choice."
"He's also running as a Democrat, by the way," Brock told Ash. "Or, as some would say, the Blue Team. Not that parties matter much, of course; nothing ever gets done, no matter who's in control."
Serena gasped. "Did you just say that it didn't matter who's in power? It's words like those that cause people to tune this election out, and we want high turnout for Ash."
"Oh, don't worry, Serena," Brock responded. "There will be fine turnout on both sides. That's how it always is these days."
"Just spit it out," Ash said. "Who is my opponent?"
Serena looked as though she were trying to swallow a billiard ball. She clearly didn't want to give Ash this information, but evidently decided honesty was the best policy after all.
"His name is Grings Kodai," Brock interjected, sparing Serena from needing to respond.
"That name doesn't ring a bell," Ash admitted. "I've never heard it before."
"Well, you're about to hear it a lot," Brock continued. "He's a wealthy businessman, a billionaire even, from Nimbasa City. They say he's got supernatural powers, but as far as I know, that's just a rumor."
"It had better be," the candidate muttered, reclining back into the chair's fuzzy embrace. "Because if it isn't…".
"You can do this, Ash," Serena assured her boyfriend. "If I had a supernatural ability to send you my strength, I would."
Ash sighed. "So how did this Kodai fellow earn his billions? Real estate?"
"He's got stocks in a lot of technology corporations, and he's the CEO of one himself. It's called the Kodai Network Group, and they've got their tentacles in almost every piece of technology you own!" That was Brock talking, and his voice rose with every word.
"Well, that's just great," Ash muttered. "It sounds like we have to worry about a self-funder. If he's a billionaire, then that means -".
"That he can contribute near-unlimited amounts of money to his own campaign?" Brock replied. "Well, yes. That's the advantage of running for office as a billionaire. That's his greatest strength."
Ash put his head in his hands. He shook it from side to side, feeling his heart descend further with each passing second.
He had known it would be hard. But surely not this hard?
"Of course", Brock continued, "Kodai's wealth can cut both ways when it comes to politics. It will allow him to run more ads than we can. It'll allow him to fund get-out-the-vote efforts during the primaries, and it will have other effects as well."
"So, how do we beat him?" Serena asked quietly. "I'm afraid it's not going to be as easy as pounding the pavement and yelling at people to vote for us."
Ash gulped. His heart skipped a couple beats as he waited for Brock to respond; the other man seemed to be weighing his words carefully.
When Brock's reply came eventually, he said the following: "We'll be outspent, for sure. But we don't have to be out-worked. We've just got to work smarter, not harder. Which means funding the best opposition research we can against Kodai, as well as whoever else runs for the presidency."
"Yes," Ash mumbled, though this was more to convince himself than anyone else. Brock, ever the optimist, didn't need convincing.
"There's another thing," the other man continued. "Because Kodai is so wealthy, many in the electorate will be primed to distrust him. They'll think he's out of touch, and they're probably not wrong. We just have to make the case that he won't fight for you when he's in office."
"So run a populist campaign?" Serena asked, placing emphasis on the word populist, as though suggesting that there was something wrong with that.
"Hey, if you truly believe that Ash must save Unova, the ends justify the means," Brock snapped. "Besides, populism isn't inherently bad, especially when it's the truth. Ash Ketchum is going to fight for the little guy when he's in office."
Just then, the door to the basement swung open, and Father Christopher, a local priest from the Church of Arceus, stepped in. His short white beard and spectacles gave his face a genial appearance, and indeed, he'd been generous in renting his space out for this meeting. And yet…
"I'm sorry, guys, but I have to kick you out now," the priest told the group.
Brock snorted. "Awww, man, I was hoping we could spend more time here. Why would Arceus' domain have a time limit attached?"
Father Christopher chuckled dryly. "Well, I don't like to inform you of all this, but this church is public property, and it's about to close. It's seven in the evening, and I don't make the laws of Crown City - I just have to enforce this one. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Ash told the priest, standing up to shake Father Christopher's hand. "It's been an honor to use your basement for this meeting. I'm sorry if we caused any disruption to the other operations of this church."
"Don't worry about it," Father Christopher replied. "You weren't a bother at all; if you were going to interfere with anything, we wouldn't have invited you. But alas, you must leave for the evening now. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Serena insisted. Turning to her boyfriend, she said: "We should probably leave now, Ash. There might be cameras approaching, and the media will want us to talk. But I don't think you want that, do you?"
As the group walked back through the sanctuary, Ash reflected once more on how pathetic it was that, as a candidate for President of Unova, the highest position in the region, he was reduced to using a church basement as his campaign headquarters.
Over the last two weeks, fundraising hadn't been going well. Even if Ash wasn't much of an optimist, he would have thought that at least some people would give small-dollar donations. And indeed, some people donated, but it wasn't enough to beef up their campaign operations.
Yes, Grings Kodai might be a billionaire who didn't understand the plight of the working 'mon. Were the playing field level, he would be the easiest person in the world to run against. But his greatest weakness was also his greatest strength.
Once they were back in the summer evening, the sun almost directly in the trio's eyes, another flash of light appeared.
"Cameras!" Serena exclaimed.
Indeed, there were cameras, as in more than one. Additionally, a middle-aged woman with short brown hair was pushing her way towards Ash. She carried a microphone in hand, and was trying to force it in front of Ash's mouth.
"Hey, if you're trying to decapitate me, you could at least have the decency to get me alone," Ash pointed out.
"I'm not going to do that, Candidate Ketchum," the woman told Ash. "I just want to ask you a few questions - an interview, if you will."
"I don't have t-".
"Yes, you do, Ash!" Serena exclaimed. "If you refuse to speak to reporters, your opponents will pounce on that!"
"Indeed, Miss Courtland is correct," the reporter responded. "In a democracy where we're supposed to have freedom of information, nobody likes a candidate who dodges interviews at all costs. This isn't punishment, Candidate Ketchum; it's for your own good."
"Fine," Ash muttered. "But only a few questions. I have a life, you know."
The reporter whipped out her notepad and started jotting down a few words. She kept glancing back at Ash, evidently half-disapproving, half-amused.
"The candidate was hostile at first," she narrated, feverishly scribbling notes down. "Insisted he had somewhere else to be."
Ash recoiled, feeling his face blush as well. How could this woman talk this way in front of the candidate himself? How could she treat him like a child who needed to be scolded?
"Look, ma'am", Ash interrupted.
The reporter narrowed her eyes. "I have a name, you know."
"Well, I don't know your name," Ash told her. "You never bothered to tell me. But please, just ask me the questions so we can be done here."
By this time, the other journalists and members of the press had backed away from the scene. Ash's "captor", for lack of a better word, carried a Vulpix News microphone and had the candidate more or less to herself.
"So, Candidate Ketchum," the woman began, "how did you react to the news that your first opponent has declared his candidacy?"
"Uh… I first learned it from Serena. You know her. She's my girlfriend."
"That is public information," the Vulpix News reporter replied. "And don't try to stall for time. That won't work, and besides, didn't you say you wanted this to be over quickly?"
Ash frowned. "That doesn't matter. Anyway, Serena told me that she'd contacted Brock and that she had bad news. She insisted on setting up a meeting in our 'war room' as she called it."
The reporter raised an eyebrow. "Your 'war room'", she said, placing air quotes around the words war room, "is a small church basement?"
"Why, yes. Do you have a problem with that?"
"No. Next question: How do you feel about no longer being the only candidate for the Democratic Party's nomination?"
Ash gulped, his forehead growing somewhat clammy. He knew he only had a few seconds to respond, or else he'd look far more manufactured than his filthy rich opponent.
"I welcome the contrast," he said eventually.
"You welcome the contrast? How so?"
"Well, Grings Kodai is a billionaire who only looks out for himself and his rich buddies. If you're in the one percent, he's your candidate. If you're anyone else, I'm your guy."
The reporter jotted down a few more notes. Ash could not see what she wrote, but he nonetheless waited patiently for the woman to ask her next question.
"So you're explicitly telling a segment of the population not to vote for you? Shouldn't your strategy be to put together the largest coalition possible?"
"It's one percent, ma'am. They're one percent of the population. If that one percent is going to make or break my chances, then I have far greater problems than not getting a few rich folks to vote my way."
"Well then. That's one way of looking at it. How would you respond to anyone who says you're too young and inexperienced to be President? The Constitution was just amended, as you know, to say that the President only needs to be 25 years old as opposed to 35."
"If the Constitution allows it, I'm fine with it."
"Of course you're fine with it, Candidate Ketchum. But if you were an undecided voter, would you be so likely to pull the lever for someone only a few years out of college? A twenty-five-year-old celebrity?"
"Aren't all politicians celebrities? They rotate in and out every couple of years, and nothing ever changes. But they still get all the attention and prestige, even if they won't solve the genuine problems our region faces."
The reporter snorted without any humor in it.
"If you're claiming that the system is broken, and that you want to fix it, the burden of proof is on you to demonstrate that you're capable of creating real change. Also, Candidate Ketchum, you had the campaign trail to yourself for a good three weeks. What do you have to show for it?"
The correct answer was next to nothing, but something told Ash that the people of Unova wouldn't be satisfied by that response. So he had to lie.
How ironic is it that we all expect politicians to lie to us, nobody ever questions it, and then I come along, saying politicians should be more honest? And then I break that promise? But Arceus, I've got to think of something quick!
"I've got small-dollar donors," Ash said.
"Do you have any plans to attract larger donations? A lot of people giving $50 each is only going to do so much. You might need a little something extra."
"I have a plan, trust me!" the candidate insisted. The thought of what the reporter would say if he didn't sound perfectly confident was torture, to say the least.
"Very well," the reporter responded. "Anyway, from Vulpix News, I'm Elaine Sharpsburg. Thank you for your time, Candidate Ketchum."
Great. Now I know her name - not that I ever cared to, of course.
Ash then made his way back to his friends' side. Both Serena and Brock had looks of vague concern on their faces, with their eyes and mouths wide open.
"How did it go, Ash?" Serena asked. "I hope it was fairly painless."
The candidate shrugged. "I guess it was. It was good practice for the future, like she said - I have to have a decent relationship with the press."
"That much is true," Brock replied. "But don't worry too much about it. You'll get better at these interactions, and sooner or later it'll be second nature."
But what if it isn't?
After Brock left in a taxi, heading back to his own apartment complex, Ash and Serena returned home. Just like they had on the way to their war room meeting, they passed the cab ride in near-total silence.
Although his vocal cords didn't get much use, this didn't mean that Ash's mind was quiet. On the contrary, it ran a mile a second as he struggled to figure out what he should do.
I'll need to hire an opposition research team, no question about that. According to Brock, all campaigns have that.
But I won't be able to afford to hire them if I can't raise a lot more money. All campaigns have expenses, and this is one of them. I guess I'll have to hit the phones when I get back.
And yet, calling random people to ask for donations is pretty pathetic. I'm Ash Ketchum. The famous Ash Ketchum. Begging for money like this is beneath me. Maybe I should hire others to run the phone lines for me.
Wait a minute - if I can't hire opposition researchers, then there's no way I can hire all those cold-callers. I've got to raise money first.
It was this mild emotional turmoil that plagued Ash the whole trip back to the apartment. Even as the couple climbed the stairs to their seventh-floor apartment, the man tortured himself with this indecision.
"Serena, I think I'll have to skip dinner tonight."
The young woman turned to her boyfriend, raising both eyebrows. "Why do you say that, Ash?"
"I've got to spend that time on the phone. There's no time to eat, I'm sorry to say - at least, not for me."
Serena shook her head. "I'm your girlfriend, and I'm telling you that you need to keep your strength up. If you don't have dinner, you'll just be weak and hungry, and your would-be donors will know you're desperate. Nobody wants to donate to someone who's desperate."
But people give money to homeless people and Pokémon all the time out of pity. I'm not saying they should do that, but plenty of people do it anyway. He didn't voice this thought aloud, though, since it wasn't a very compelling argument. At least, Serena wouldn't see it as such.
"Fine," Ash muttered. "I'll eat. But bring my dinner to the office, because I must spend the evening on the computer."
Serena frowned. "You don't need a computer to make calls, do you? You could just start calling random numbers."
"Well…" Ash trailed off.
"What is it, Ash? I thought we agreed, at the start of our relationship, that we'd be honest with one another!"
"I guess we did. But I was thinking that I should do some opposition research on Kodai too. Scour the web for some dirt on him."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Ash. Usually it's campaign staff who do that for the candidate. Do you even know where to look?"
Ash shrugged. "Don't I just type his name into the search engine? I'm sure that Grings Kodai would return a lot of unflattering details - he's a target-rich environment, after all."
"Well, yes," Serena told her boyfriend. "But it's not as simple as you're making it out to be. He's a billionaire - he'll have gone to great lengths to hide these details from the general public. You'll need an extension to search the Deep Web for them."
"Then I'll get the damn extension," Ash responded with a shrug. "I'll search the Deep Web for dirt on Kodai, because there's no other way. Come hell or high water, I will win this race."
The candidate's girlfriend sighed. "Browsing the Deep Web is risky, Ash. If they find a bunch of illegal videos on your computer, that's far more damaging than whatever you're looking for about your opponent. Except that it will damage you, because nobody likes a creep."
"Fine," Ash snapped. "I'll just do it the old-fashioned way."
Despite Serena's evident disapproval, within minutes Ash was seated in the swivel chair at his desk, a mug of hot chocolate by his side. Although it was getting dark out, the glare of the computer screen lit up the room like a second sun.
Peering at the millions upon millions of results returned by the search, Ash looked for anything that could be used against his opponent. This shouldn't have been difficult - if anything you said could be used against you in a court of law, didn't the same thing apply to the court of public opinion?
After half an hour, Ash's eyes were twitching from the strain of staring at his laptop at full brightness. His head ached from trying to process the enormity of the task that lay before him. And yet, he would not give up. He would not rest until he found something, anything.
Nonetheless, many of the results that came up were neutral in tone, and some were even positive. For instance, Kodai had recently given a grant of several million dollars to Nimbasa University, his alma mater - it was hard to spin that into a liability.
He shook his head. How could he argue that education was a bad thing?
I can think of something else, he told himself. Like others have said, this man should be the easiest person in Unova to run against.
At some point, Serena came into the room bearing a plate of food in her hands and a scowl on her face. "Any luck?" she asked.
The look Ash gave her, probably akin to a Pokémon about to be put down, was all the answer she needed.
"You should take a break for the night, then," Serena suggested. "This isn't even your job. You're not supposed to stress out with all the opposition research on your own."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "You do realize that hiring these people takes a lot of dough, right?"
"Then bake some bread!" Serena suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"Get on the damn phone and start calling people! Arceus, Ash, don't complain about the way things are without doing anything about it! Isn't that why you wanted to run in the first place?"
She had a point. Ash accepted the plate and, in between bites of the chicken salad wrap Serena had made for him, thumbed through the phone book.
The pages were so delicate that the young man had to have a very light touch when turning them. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up ripping the page off, and that was a wide range of potential donors he'd miss out on.
Of course, as Ash would soon know all too well, just because someone was a potential donor didn't make them an actual donor. As he worked his way painstakingly through a random page in the 'A' section of the yellow pages, Ash grew increasingly convinced that there had to be a better way.
"Leah Alecto?"
"I'm sorry, you have the wrong number."
"Mallory Allston?"
"I'm busy right now. Please call again later."
"Zane Alsace?"
"I'm afraid I don't have any money to give. I'm sorry about that."
At first, the respondents were polite about it. Even those who opposed Ash's candidacy calmly stated that they didn't want to donate to him, and then both parties moved on. It still hurt, but not as much as it could have.
Even so, Ash wasn't yet in the green. In fact, by racking up a higher phone bill, he was putting himself deeper into a hole. He could already imagine Kodai's attack ads writing themselves: See? Ash Ketchum can't run his own campaign, so how is he going to run Unova? We need a businessman to fix this region!
"Michael Ashby?"
"This is Ash Ketchum? Ash Ketchum, the one who's running for President? No way in hell I'm voting for you!"
Ash hung up abruptly before Mr. Ashby could spew a series of expletives at him, or whatever else the guy had planned. But things only escalated from there.
"Maggie Ashland?"
"It's pretty low of you to be begging for money, isn't it? If you want to be a big boy, you need to get rid of your -".
Mrs. Ashland didn't get any more time out of Ash's day (or night, as it were.) The candidate reclined back in his swivel chair, running his hands through his hair. It was starting to stick up again, a consequence of the stress and lack of sleep.
I'm sure Brock can make an online portal for getting donations, Ash thought to himself. That way, I don't have to go to them; they'll come to me. And then I'll be able to run ads.
That's the spirit. This isn't the end of the world. I'll be able to compete with Kodai; looking at those poor Pokémon, being exploited like that for film. Is there any alternative?
Ash stood up from his desk, pushing the chair in like a good elementary school student. And then he turned around and went to take a shower.
And thus, Ash's first day of having an opponent came to an end. It may have been one of the most emotionally taxing days of his life, but there was still a long way to go. That record was unlikely to remain intact.