On a morning in Canalave City, a boy of eight years old walked cheerfully alongside the canals to class, both interested in what might happen that day at school and excited that his favorite television show would have yet another rerun when he got back. It was a little cloudy and dry, which was odd, because didn't the clouds bring rain? Why was it dry today? It didn't seem like there was much moisture in the air at all!
Come to think of it, he didn't see his classmates around, either. Usually, there would be someone around, and even if they didn't always greet him, they at least existed. Maybe they were already at school. Or maybe they were swimming in the canals... In fact, he thought he saw someone in them right now! The uniform was the school's, and they were definitely in the water, face down on their stomach... but they didn't seem to be swimming. In fact, they seemed to just be floating there. He didn't think red was part of the uniform, either, right? It was a little strange how they were just there... not doing anything, even moving, but simply there. He probably needed to tell someone about this.
He decided to run to school as a result, and when he arrived, there was nobody there. Turning the halls inside, he continued to find nobody, but he heard loud noises that sounded like they were from outside, and then he heard somebody. In fact, he saw the student too, their mouth trying to make a sound loud enough to get past the hand covering it, and then they both went behind the corner again with increasingly quieter footsteps as he tried to pursue them. When he turned the corner, nothing remained to be seen, not even an idea of the path they took.
What was happening? What was he supposed to do? He'd worriedly sprinted to the headmaster's office, but even he couldn't be found. The noises from outside were still happening, but he wasn't very interested in that right now. This wasn't the time to run about looking for ways to skip class...
Wait. Class? The time... What a fool he'd been! It was time for physical education! The headmaster was there, surely! The student he saw in the canal was pretending to swim, and the one in the halls was trying to skip class! He just had to go there himself, and everyone would be there. He was late himself, so he had to hurry!
When he arrived, everyone was there, even those who normally weren't. Maybe they were more dedicated than usual, but if that was the case, why were they all on the floor? Why were some of them lying on top of other people? Why was everything covered in red stuff that was wet when he touched it? Nobody was moving, either, and that was the strangest part. He supposed he would have to move them himself to start them off... but whenever he tried to move someone, their cold bodies leaked more of the red liquid. He at last realized something, and then could only witness it as his body stood in place.
He tried to turn his head, but his head didn't turn, and then another loud noise from outside shook his very being into animation again as he ran faster than he thought possible homeward.
Other people were running, too. Sometimes, indeed, most of the time something struck them from afar in the process, and they stopped running. A gray haze filled the air and breathing was nigh-impossible, but he could still make out buildings, especially the ones on fire... At least his home wasn't one of those when he reached it, but the windows were shattered, and he'd heard screaming that became quieter every time one of those loud noises happened until all was silent. He'd heard the loud noises when people collapsed on his way back.
He didn't understand. Why were people falling? Why were people bleeding so much? Why were things so different today? He had to ask his parents. He needed them to help him understand. He needed them to stop this, even if he didn't know how, so things could be normal again, and so he went inside his house.
He found his parents, but they weren't moving, either, puddles of blood under and around them. He didn't think anything that had stopped would move anytime soon now.
The household Bidoof was trembling nearby, as was he, as the television showed the rerun he'd so awaited. He couldn't hear over his heartbeat, but he knew the story: A businessman from the upper class had become a superhero of old, and in his cavalier missions, he spoke with unusual formality. A succinct and persuasive man who prevailed against all his foes, even those who were like himself – he had to help now, if he could. The boy silently begged the man to help, since he was so close, even behind the screen... and then the television was shattered by gunfire.
It was over, wasn't it? The pillars of his life, they were all demolished entirely. The Bidoof would be next, and then him, surely. He wasn't certain whether he was alive right now, in fact. He saw himself, the Bidoof, and a man with a gun approaching, but he couldn't be certain whether he was alive or simply observing their death.
As the man took aim, the terrified Bidoof suddenly leapt with a force characteristic of most cannons, crashing into the man's chest and disarming him, the would-be assailant falling limp as the boy was struck with various scattered objects, mostly harmless but decisively painful.
The boy believed himself to be alive. He believed it enough to begin screaming harshly, his throat burning as his body reacted as best as it could to what had transpired, trembling, tearing up, seething, and, most of all, preparing.
The circumstances had broken him, or perhaps they had begun reorganizing him. One could not determine such a thing so soon.