This will not last forever. I plan to replace it with a website soon enough. I'll keep the Rentry around for posterity, but the story will not be updated any further.
Chapter 1: Unexpected Tourist
"Arco 'n Weed~, that's where I'll be~," I idly sung as my sunset orange sedan rolled up to the gas pump. I shifted gears into first and quickly killed the engine, stepping out to greet the winter air nipping at my ass and Pilot gas station sign. The realization that I was not at Arco briefly crossed my mind, giving the slightest pause, but it was quickly replaced by the all-consuming desire of refueling my car.
I had time to take a look at my surroundings as I did the monotonous task. It left me quite a bit of time to think about everything. I had some time to reflect on my past actions as the tank fueled up. I sure as shit wasn't happy with the current state of things. I mean seriously, did I think that leaving my parents to find some meaning in my life was a good idea? Given that I was at this point over two thousand miles from the family compound, and in a state that I grew up despising no less, apparently I did. Part of me already knew that the true nature of this sabbatical wasn't to find myself, but to let myself disappear.
I looked over my shoulder to see the ticking number that was the price, and was immediately reminded of one of the many reasons why I hated this state so much. 40 bucks for 9 gallons and rising. I let out a groan mixed with a defeated chuckle. I am not financially recovering from visiting California again.
Well, if I'm going to ruin myself and force me into an early freelance remote job again, I might as well go have some good food. There was a great Asian-American barbeque joint up the road northward. I tried to recall what Asian-type it was, and I eventually figured it was Korean. I wasn't really interested in Korean, but the food's good enough to not just warrant eating it even when I'm not in the mood, but also good enough to justify spending 25 bucks for one person.
It wouldn't take long for the fueling to wrap up and to get there. Weed wasn't exactly a large village, despite all of the modern amenities that other villages would've been missing. The little joint turned out to be a Thai restaurant, not Korean as I was expecting. This did very little to sway my want for it however. Thai was spicier, and I knew I handled spice about as well as the average Japanese person did. None the less, I didn't let it stop me from ordering something, so I picked something that I had hoped wasn't particularly spicy. The pork belly I had ordered was very tender, and delicious with the caveat of being significantly more spicy than I was expecting. My eyes betrayed me-or perhaps it was the glasses-as they seemed larger than my stomach.
I picked at my food, but eventually started endlessly scrolling the news on my little smart phone, the first time I had in a couple days. It was cathartic to finally let go, and devastating to have relapsed so early into my attempt to detox. The endless headlines reporting transformed pets and humans into Pokemon made me scoff. I questioned if I was really that stupid looking, and was missing a massive joke, but the big names like BBC and NPR covering made me reconsider that stance. I didn't find them particularly trustworthy, but also what the fuck could they gain by convincing people of this? A lawsuit from Nintendo, that's what. I just knew that I missed the banter on 4chan over such bizarre news events.
Doing some reading, I discovered that pretty much no one knows what the hell's happening. It seemed to started happening 4 days ago-around the same time I had just stopped paying attention to the news outright to try to get away from the constant politics and the incessant attempts to incite violence on others. As it stood, various governments were taking different actions. Some, like some states in Eastern Europe, tried to pretend things were normal. China had a sudden and total media blackout-or at least, they stopped allowing internet traffic over the borders, preventing us from getting glimpses on what was going on inside. Japan viewed them as undesirable-and Nintendo had been blamed, resulting in a PR storm in Japan. Yet other countries, like Malta, had already began panicking and predicting the total collapse of humanity.
The current US response seemed to be to treat it as an infectious disease for the time being, requesting avoidance of Pokemon when possible. People were already in an uproar over various government institutions apparently violating these guidelines that had only been in effect for less than 2 days. Unfortunately, that bit sounded about right no matter who was in power. Thankfully, the administration seemed adamant that there would not be a second shutdown if it could be remotely avoided, so I felt reasonably confident we weren't about to face down a second oncoming social and economic catastrophe from that.
With my soul thoroughly dismantled by my failure to resist, and left unsure of what to think about the situation, I packed up my food and left. I figured a selfish act of kindness would get my mind off things, so my plan was to just give this food to the first homeless guy I saw. It may be a village of just over 2,000 people, and the bitter cold made it impractical to be out for too long, but this was California. Surely there'd be some homeless around. As I made my way to the sunset orange car I had left in the parking lot, I heard a feminine voice which stopped me. I didn't quite catch what it said, but I whipped my head over to the direction of the voice-towards a snow covered brick wall.
"You," the voice cried out with a hint of exasperation. I looked down out of confusion, and saw what I had initially mistaken as some dirty snow in the parking lot had turned out to be what was very obviously an Alolan Vulpix, albeit covered in dirt and sticks. You know, it was one thing to see news articles. It was another to see images and video embedded. It's a whole different thing to see it in person-and arguably a bit cuter than I imagined, even with it being more brown than white! However, the longer I looked, the more the eyes seemed to stick out. Something was up with those eyes, and I just wasn't sure what-nor was I given a chance to figure it out.
"Japanese speak?" I barely caught the sentence, and took a moment to process things a bit further. She wasn't speaking English, she was speaking Japanese. My Japanese is shit and I haven't used it in almost a year since I left college. Fuck. Still, those twinkling eyes expected an answer I'd give them the honest one.
"Clumsily," I responded earnestly. The two syllables came out unnaturally and slowly, as if attempting to walk on one leg.
"Sufficient! I your smartphone use?" She talked much quicker than me, but I could make sense of it. Barely. I thought about the question for a second, though the expectant stare from her made the considerations short.
"Yes, phone use. Uhhh," my voice trailed off, trying to remember all of the vocabulary of Japanese. I was pretty sure phone number had a unique term, but I couldn't remember it, so I resorted to the next best thing and hoped it'd get across. "Phone number what?"
She rattled off a number without a prefix-though I gathered from how she spoke the number that it was a Japanese number, being that the area code was 47-3. It caught me off guard to hear maru for zero, and I promptly chastised myself internally for not expecting it. I'd slowly reiterate the phone number to make sure I didn't mix mistakes-including the +81 prefix.
"Yes, that is correct." I'd hum, and bend down, calling the number and leaving the phone on speaker phone, and resting it on the ground for her to speak into. The international call was going to suck in terms of my finances, but frankly, she probably needed it. She's in the middle of a forest village, speaking seemingly exclusively in Japanese, covered in mud, has found herself next to the best damn Thai barbeque place in this entire state, and currently has no opposable thumbs or clothes in sight. If anyone needed an international call, it was most likely her.
I left to the phone call, heading over to my vehicle so I had something to lean on. I did want to listen in on the exchange to satiate my curiosity, but the man she had me call spoke very quickly and she somehow spoke even quicker. I could barely catch a single word that the two were exchanging, though I could hear her voice slowly distort as she slid into distress, and I did keep hearing her call the other participant in the call "father." The phone call was over in what felt like 4 minutes, the Vulpix sitting down with a defeated expression. Oh dear...
I'd slowly approach, not sure what to really do other than nab my phone back. As I knelt down to get the phone, I switched which hand was holding my food, which reminded me, I had food I needed to give away. As I grabbed my phone, I tried to offer it. "My food want?"
"UNPLEASANT," came a snappy and fierce response. I was taken aback from getting one of the most aggressive invitation rejections possible in the "politer" end of Japanese language-especially delivered in that tone.
Despite the prompt refusal, her own body seemed to have its own demands, as I heard her stomach growl. Her ears pinned back, a frown stretching across her face. Knowing how much hunger sucked, I opened the leftovers and left it in front of her, before leaving. She didn't have to eat in front of me, especially since she seemed to not want to for her own reasons, and I could respect that.
By this point, the sun was beginning to set, and I didn't feel like night driving through a forest, especially not when I could hit a Blitzle or some shit on the road. I didn't think my car could survive something like that. I still had to do laundry though, and I could definitely take a shower. I wasn't sure what laundromats were around, but I was certain I knew where I could get a shower. I pulled out my phone, checking the Pilot app to confirm my suspicions. Just as I suspected, they had 7 showers. It'd be a small bit of backtracking, but it'd be perfect for what I need.
As I prepared to leave, I was interrupted by a loud yowl. My head snapped towards the direction-to the Vulpix, and my food on the ground. ... Oh my god, I just gave a Japanese person something that I could barely stomach! FUCKING-OOPS! The door came open quicker than I could blink my eye, as I stumbled out of the vehicle.
"I have no excuse," I repeated multiple times, bowing at a steep 90 degree angle, nearly throwing myself off balance while doing so. Was I overdoing? Yes, absolutely, and the thought immediately crossed my mind. My doubts were further intensified once I managed to catch a glimpse of the confused vixen in front of me-but a larger part of me just didn't care. The tears that were running down their face were motivation enough for that part. "Not spicy buy!"
Stifling a sniffle, she managed to say "I accept." I turned to leave, and she managed to stop me. "I too together go." I stopped for a moment, concerned.
As much as I kind of wished to indulge in the power of a Pokemon, I didn't want to lose my thumbs let alone my hands-which was a serious concern given the CDC's warnings. However, those pleading eyes, and the dazzling streams down her muzzle forced my heart into gridlock, and I had only one choice but to accept. "I... accept. Uh, car at ride do." This Japanese was throwing me for a loop. Having to convert my thoughts into subject-object-verb and then finding the words was seriously wrecking how fast I could speak, but I couldn't deny it was good practice. I desperately needed it.
I'd open the passenger door for her-and noted how not only did she keep stumbling over her own legs, but also how she failed to make the jump properly the first time and ate the floor board instead. I didn't say or do anything other than look away, to try to let her save face. Her angered huff was a little funny though. I thought about telling her to sit in the floor space between the seats for added safety, but frankly, I was struggling enough with Japanese. Saying that I wanted her centered between two seats that I barely had the means to describe would've been incredibly frustrating. Not to mention, it'd mean moving my blankets and pillow that were crammed behind the passenger seat. I wouldn't call it hard, but the entire experience of doing that just outweighed the motivation I could come up with.
Despite my lack of motivation to either of our safeties, I tried to give her a seatbelt as best as I could, but she eyed my hands with suspicion and I couldn't figure out the logistics of putting a seatbelt on her anyways, so after testing a couple of positions in my mind without actually buckling her in, I just said "caution for me, please" and left it at that.
The drive could've been uneventful, and almost was, but as we were pulling into the Pilot station, she suddenly shouted. I almost swerved into a fuel truck, instinctually avoiding a threat that wasn't there. GEE-ZUZ.
"That is for what!?"
"Mytonguewithmyselfclean!" It took me a few moments to catch up what she was trying to say. She was trying to clean herself with her tongue. I looked at her, and decided yeah, that was probably a reasonable reaction when she's that dirty. It took a few more moments before I remembered she was human at one point. It begged the question, how long had she been like this, and why was she all the way out here? I couldn't think of any reason a Japanese person would be out here, except if there was family, which wouldn't make sense given the phone number provided.
Instead of getting answers, I just said "I see," and left it at that. Those were questions I'd get tomorrow, if she was still around by then. However, given the distress, I had an idea. "Shower you?"
"Unpleasant!" She seemed to like politely telling me to fuck off with my ideas to assist her-which, I could see why. A complete stranger man offering to bathe a recently turned Japanese woman in a truck stop shower? I didn't exactly think the implications of that through.
"Sorry." With my half-hearted, dejected apology, I unbuckled and seatbelt and took a step out.
"Wait!" I turned to face her, and saw her attempt to steel herself. "Uh," she trailed, much too long to be comfortable. Finally, she rendered the verdict. "I accept."
That complicated matters for me. I could waltz in with her in tow, and just pretend she's a dirty plushie I wanted to rinse, but that probably wouldn't be very convincing. I kept it on the table as I tried to consider other options. While annoying that she kept playing games with me, I couldn't leave anyone in trouble if I could help it-and though I loathed to admit it, part of me did appreciate that I had something resembling one of my favorite Pokemon around. My mind began to wander off about how soft a Vulpix and a Ninetales would be, which was just yet more motivation to give her a rinse, but I needed a better plan than this.
I remembered that I had a small-ish backpack shoved in my trunk. I didn't know if it was big enough, but I was willing to give it a shot. I mean, it carried 30 pounds of shit in France and Spain, maybe it'd be big enough to carry a Vulpix. With this plan in mind, I popped the trunk, and headed to collect the bag. While I was there, I also grabbed a pair of swim shorts, so I would be able to give her a shower without having my junk in her face. I'm sure she'd appreciate the thought. I also grabbed some body wash, for myself. I wasn't sure it was safe for animals, and I didn't plan to test it on
I presented the bag to her, which resulted in a glare. "Unple-" she started, but ended it quickly with a growl. Though I was fully prepared to defend her getting into the bag like she was a Cosmog fugitive, she seemed to thankfully understand why I had a bag and was offering to her. She entered the bag backwards, barely fitting her bundle of tails and grumbling some gibberish I couldn't even understand.
I picked up the bag and put it on, immediately being reminded of just why I hated my trip to France and Spain so much. "God, fucking... why does it have to be so heavy?"
I marched into the Pilot, our combined grumblings being a quiet chorus in the near-empty store. My first task was to check on the hot dogs, which unfortunately turned out to be sold out. I sighed, and approached the counter. There was a young woman with piercings at the counter, chewing gum and looking disinterested.
"Excuse me, do you happen to have more hot dogs?" She snapped to attention at my question, standing up straight and robotically. The noises from my bag stopped.
"Yeah. Did we run out on the cooker?"
"Yes, you have."
"Oh, okay, I'll put some more on the heater, and they'll be ready in 15."
"Thank you so much miss."
I made my way over to the sign-in kiosk, and quickly reserved a shower with robotic efficiency. I liked to come in first and look around the store if a shower wasn't immediately available, which was why I never did it on my phone, but shower #6 was readily available today, and I made my way to the shower as swiftly as I could. The sooner I got this weight off my shoulders, the better.
Once I was in, that bag came hurtling to the floor-though I made sure that it would land softly. She leapt out the bag, casting me an accusatory glare with pent up frustration behind those eyes. I could only offer her a shrug. The actual room itself was split in two. One partition had the shower, and the other had a toilet and a sink. I wasn't quite sure why the room was made like this, but it'd give me privacy while I changed.
"Shower wait, you," I told her, motioning towards the shower.
"I will," her curt response came.
With that sorted out, I stripped. I had a routine that I stuck to whenever I did. Shoes, socks, deal with my shirt, the glasses will get caught on the shirt and then get uncomfortably propped on my head and get removed afterwards, then pants and underwear. My ugly body laid before me, and I stared down for a moment, frowning. I should lose a little weight. I wasn't super overweight or anything, but touching the upper end of healthy BMI still gives you a gut that I am not a fan of. As I reached for the swim shorts I had placed on the seat, I paused. I had this uncomfortable feeling that lured my eyes to the separating wall of the shower. However, there was nothing there, no matter how long I looked, so I just went about putting on my swim shorts.
With my teal swim shorts on, I walked right into the shower partition. She was waiting, sitting nearly against the wall, and very close to the exit. I'd get the shower rolling to rinse her off. I didn't have pet-friendly shampoo and the Pilot station only gave bar soap, which was woefully inadequate for actually giving her a proper bath. I reasoned with the majority of the dirt gone, she should be fine, and that this was totally not me half-assing it. The shower was set to as cold as it could be-being an ice type, I figured she'd appreciate that.
"Temperature how about?" I offered some of the water in front of her, rather than directly spraying her.
She would put her paw in the stream, and sat there for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, temperature is good."
With that confirmation, I got to work. I realized this was the first time I really had a moment to take the sight of her in-even if my face had to be 6 inches away to really see anything. Her eyes were closed now, so I couldn't quite catch what was up with them yet, so I let myself think of other things. Did I even know her name? I tried to recall it, but if she had told me, it fell victim to my shitty short term memory. I came to realize I didn't introduce myself either, which probably didn't help matters any. I found it weird we hadn't exchanged names or anything yet, so I as I began to wash off the dirt from her torso, I formulated an introduction.
"Nice to meet you," I spoke. It took me a moment to find my words, but I made to sure to focus on not having a drawn out filled pauses. She didn't need to hear them right now. "My name is Valentine von Matthaus." A pause. I had to construct the sentence in my head. "My age is 22. My occupation is unemployment." Good, I managed that second one without thinking. "I beg of you to treat me favorably."
She'd turn to look at me, though I couldn't tell what her expression was. My eyes were more directed at the impressive amounts of brown sloughing off of her, and my vision was too blurry to see anything clearly without shoving my face in her face. From here, her eyes weren't even really eyes that I could see, they were blended in with the rest of her fur, so all I saw was a featureless blob for a face. I began to worry that I had fucked something up. Finally, after a pregnant pause, she'd say something. "Japanese very good."
Great. I got the sarcastic seal clapping response. I knew it was bad but it still stung about as much as one could expect. I almost opened my mouth to fight back, but I held it in. It wouldn't have done anything but antagonize her and bruise my ego further. Looking for something to distract myself, I noticed how some of the dirt was stubbornly clinging on where I was washing. I touched the spot, trying to scrub out the dirt. I was immediately shocked by how cold the sensation was. The backpack had done a good job insulating me from her.
"No good. No good! NO GOOD!" She was very adamant that I do not touch her. However, the dirt wasn't coming out no matter how close I brought the shower head. It was a necessity to get it all out.
"I must do it," I tried to retort, mustering all of the finality I could in my voice.
"NO GOOD," she shouted back at me.
I knew she was going to complain later about the dirt, but I didn't exactly have a choice. I didn't want to learn whether or not she could freeze my ass, and I could already feel the contact point numbing my hand. I removed it and just did what I could with the shower nozzle, which was quite a lot, but she still an off-white color. I'd curtly apologize as I moved onto her head. Despite her pouting, she did nothing to stop me, even letting me rinse off her face without so much as a verbal complaint. I couldn't shake something was off about the color still, though I could not figure out why the color wasn't the snow white I was imagining. I guessed it was just the lighting of the room, but that explanation just did not feel right.
After a few minutes, her head was washed as thoroughly as I could manage. I moved onto the tails, even though the legs were still incredibly dirty. I figured I'd just get everything above them done first, so that any dirt that I washed off had a chance to make it to the legs before I washed those off.
"Nice to meet you," she spoke after clearing her throat. I paused for just the briefest of moments, before continuing the task at hand. "My name is Tae Matsui. My age too is 22." I waited for the end, but Matsui didn't bother ending it with any pleasantries. I wasn't really sure what that meant, to be honest, but I could imagine it as some sort of insult.
"Miss Matsui, hm?" I practiced the name a couple of times. "Your name is nice." Our conversation was left at that. I wanted to say more, to ask her why she was here and who she called, but she clearly didn't want to speak anymore, and I could and would respect that.
As I cleaned her tails, I noticed a couple of things. What I took note of initially was her tails being colder than the rest of her body. Some of the water was freezing into slush before it fell off, which was both frankly impressive, and a little terrifying. I really didn't want to be touching something that was freezing water in less than 8 seconds, even if said water was already cold enough to cause hypothermia before touching her.
The other was the sheen. Her tails seemed to be the most reflective part of her body, which created a dazzling display underneath the running water and mushy ice. Even when there wasn't running water over it, tiny flecks of frost sparkled a dim purple in the light. Purple... That color threw me off. I didn't dare to ask, but I could've sworn purple was the color of a shiny Vulpix. I wanted to look that up later to confirm for myself. I could feel myself get a little excited, but I reigned that feeling in before it could bloom. This wasn't a game, this was a Japanese woman who was desperately struggling to keep her dignity while being bathed by a complete stranger because she could no longer bathe herself without being reminded of her lack of a human body. This was nothing like going out into the deep snow and finding a cute lil' thing to bring home after an honorable battle, or whatever the fuck you wanted to classify a wild Pokemon encounter was.
The more I thought about it, the more glaringly awkward the situation became to me. I tried to focus on the task, but there wasn't much else to really think about, especially since Matsui wouldn't let me touch her to really get that really stubborn dirt out-if it was even dirt. It could've just been her shiny coloration messing with me.
It would take an extended period of awkward silence where nothing really happened before I could finally deem her clean. She opened her mouth to protest me cleaning her hind quarters and undersides, but no words were exchanged and she huffed once she made sure that I wasn't doing anything weird. Finally, once I got to a point where I was happy that she was clean, I'd turn the shower off.
"Outside, do wait please."
Matsui glanced at my face, before nodding and turning away and exiting from the shower. I asked myself what the hell I was really doing with my life anymore, before turning the shower back on-and much to my audible dismay, being blasted with water that I had somehow forgotten was as cold as the shower could go. Once the water warmed up to Miami temperatures and my balls left witness protection, I finally stripped off my swim shorts, and lathered up my hair in 5-in-1 body wash.
I let my thoughts roam for a while as I cleaned myself up, my eyes closed to prevent the water from getting to them. The subjects roamed between weird fantasies about creating bizarre wunderwaffes in WW1 and the interwar periods, to my future travel plans, to what I would've done 10 years ago during a particularly heated online argument about the definition of social justice, and unfortunately, even into the lewd territory. I tried to keep those thoughts out of my mind, but they were unfortunately here, and weren't leaving any time soon. As I thought about attending to my lust, I got the startlingly uncomfortable sensation, as if I was being watched. I turned quickly to the entryway, and wiped the water from my eyes so I could open them, however there was nothing in the opening. I frowned, before returning to my wash, though the uneasy feeling never really left, and I couldn't find myself really dealing with something so vulnerable with an audience, imagined or otherwise.
I finished up my shower some time later, reveling in the heat after being blasted by the cold all day. Fucking California ruined my cold acclimation and I'll never get it back. Yet another reason to hate this god awful shithole. In reality, I probably lost it because I got older, but that didn't matter much to me. If it were to ever be possible to fight the geopolitical concept of California in a physical brawl, I'd gladly kick its ass. I slipped on my sopping wet swim trunks and waltzed my way past my bag to grab my clothes and a towel. While I was outside of the shower, I noticed that Matsui had already entered the bag again. I couldn't quite tell-my glasses were foggy and I didn't really bother to bend down to check on her-but I assumed she was taking a nap or something.
Once I was dry, my clothes were on, and my glasses planted firmly on the top of my head, I would exit the shower and grab my bag. Matsui grumbled as she did so, but she'd just have to tolerate being tussled 'round for a bit longer. I'd make sure to minimize the movement of the bag the best I could, but there was only so much I could do.
Exiting the shower room, I made a beeline straight for the hotdogs. It was the only thing really worth buying at the moment-some food for both me and her. I'd grown hungry after the pitiful amount of food I actually ate at the barbeque place. It didn't take long to grab two. I didn't know if condiments added to the price, nor did I really care. I just needed something. I must've took a while in the shower, because when I approached counter, there was a completely different person behind the counter.
"Hey, just these two plain hotdogs."
"Certainly," he said. The cashier rung the hot dogs up slowly, blinking a few times.
"Bad sleep?"
"Was it that obvious?
"Yeaah."
"Hah, oh well. Your total will be 10-70."
I'd use my Visa card to pay. As much as I loathed the whole process, contactless pay sure as shit was easier and more secure than just swiping my card. A shame it didn't really have the same tactile feed back, but I suppose I could live without it, just this once.
"Thank you, have a nice night," the cashier cheerfully remarked.
"No, thank you. You made it."
I turned for the door, making a swift exit to avoid the ramifications of my statement. As soon as I got to my car, I practically tossed the bag into the passenger seat-and immediately regretted it upon hearing the yelp.
"You," Matsui seethed from the bag, right before popping her head out. The glare was enough to send cold daggers into my heart.
"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" I swiftly offered the hotdog to Matsui. I couldn't really tell if she had her eyes fixed on me as she moved slightly to sniff the food.
"I accept," were her words as she attempted to take the dog out of the container, while I was still holding it. Her eyes had softened slightly, though they still held a righteous fury freezing behind them. I wasn't really enthused by the prospects of having to clean cloth seats later of whatever hotdog brine that escapes her, but I also wasn't about to bring up these concerns to her. She could have her hotdog in peace.
I sat the container down on her seat, and let her have at it, while I scarfed down my own dog. It was a bit saltier than I'd want, but it was sustenance. I'd rather this than starve. I finished my hotdog far before Matsui did. I looked over to see her struggle on just how to approach eating the wiener. She was trying out different styles of picking it up with her paws and then trying to figure out how to eat it without biting them. It was a spectacle I could certainly watch for half an hour.
Could didn't mean I would though, and soon enough, I was on my phone. I had something to sort out: Where to stay overnight. As luck would have it, there was public rest areas 7 miles north of Weed. I knew that much. However, I wasn't really sure what to do about Matsui. I figured she had a family to return to, but something tells me that earlier phone call didn't exactly go well.
Exploring if she could go home and wanted to, flights would be the easiest way to get to Japan, though the logistics of that were iffy. She probably wouldn't be allowed an airplane any time soon, and I doubted she had her documents. Sailing was another option, but I don't have any experience with boats. Also, I did not know where the hell I was going to find a boat for such a trip. I didn't even know how long of a trip that would be, so I had zero clues on how much in supplies I should pack. The logistics weren't very practical of either of the ideas, though perhaps there was an option I simply was missing.
Her staying with me was easy. I'd just have to do my freelance programming commissions more often so I could feed two mouths. But that did leave me wondering where I'd go. I had been aimlessly wandering the continental US for the last year and a half, and I didn't really resolve anything inside of me. I had long since resigned myself to rot away and be of little importance, but Matsui was very unlikely to enjoy sharing that fate. Still, I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with my life. Everything I was ever good at, I was only vaguely mediocre at best. No matter how hard you shone that spot light on me, it was simply impossible for me to dazzle. It's why I ended up here, on this journey so that I could fade away with no chance of anyone trying to remember me beyond my immediate family.
After a period of deliberation, I realized there was a third option that I had cast away; that being that she could be dropped off somewhere and I could return to my lonely life. She'd probably have her best chances somewhere where there were a lot of Japanese speakers. Around here, that meant colleges with Japanese language programs. Those weren't terribly hard to find, and I could even drop them off at my old college and meet my old professor. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I just didn't like the idea. Matsui might not have known me for very long, but I had already grown attached to the idea of having companionship on the ride, and someone who couldn't talk to me wasn't going to fill that hole.
Argh, why did things have to be so difficult!?
I'd need more time to sort things out, and to talk to Matsui. I needed to figure out what her own plans were, and why she was here. I started the car, and rolled away from the parking lot. It only took me about 8 minutes to get to the rest area. Matsui had more or less finished her hotdog along the way, and curled up without me even noticing. 8 minutes was quite a bit of time for events to happen, it seemed.
After I parked, I started at Matsui for a bit. It was surreal, to put it mildly. If I forgot about the fact she was human, she was adorable and very huggable. I mean, it's not like being a human didn't stop me from wanting to hug her, but it gave me a reason not to completely violate their personal space. My mind wandered to how she'd look like as a Ninetales. Would she look as cute as she did already? Eventually, I forced those thoughts die out. I had to keep reminding myself that she wasn't just some wild Pokémon when she couldn't correct me. She was Tae Matsui, not my pet and certainly not someone who's going to let me hug them.
I went to check 4chan, only to discover that the outage that had kept me from checking it for the last few days was still out. It'd been out for 4 days by this point, which was bizarre for a traffic crash. Hiroyuki must've done some downgrading of the servers, not expecting to be broadsided by the entire world wanting to be on 4chan or some shit. I wondered about world2ch and 403chan's reactions to the news, but kind of already knew that 403chan was like 6 idiots on their own board and so they wouldn't have said much. world2ch was more active, but I couldn't muster up the will to go check. I'd just check them later, though who knew when "later" was. Certainly not me. I found it a crying shame that 3chan was gone, because they definitely would've had some funny ass banter which would've been amusing to read.
I had to settle on scrolling news once more. I didn't really have social media outside of Youtube and the various boards I was apart of, and I had successfully butchered the shit out of Youtube to avoid the algorithm, so news became my doom scrolling. There were so many stories. Incidents like a Tinkaton being pulled over, or a Dragonite being seen terrorizing a town somewhere east of here. There was also Buzzfeed, weirdly lusting over one Lucario that looked exactly like how a Lucario should look. I could've sworn they were bought out and shut down, so why and how the hell were they still operating?
Looking into the international side of things, I found numerous articles trying to discuss the whole situation. Italy apparently had the most transformations of any European state, even outpacing most global states. Maybe we oughta look at the Tiber river, see if anything crashed there recently, especially anything glowing green. Morocco had the interesting headline of having absolutely zero known cases of transformations. Australia's cases of transformation seemed to most commonly affect their wildlife in the outback, with few human cases reported. Eventually, I got to Japan, and being able to vaguely read Japanese provided me a better insight than most would get. Most of it focused on the Nintendo PR blitz, as well as promises by the authorities to provide aid to the families who had lost loved ones in the situation.
One article stood out to me, ran by the NHK. This article, dated today, less than an hour ago, described an incident in Ichikawa, Chiba where a vaguely described Pokemon had freaked out while authorities tried to corral it, and teleported many of the occupants of an apartment kilometers away. Of the 38 victims, 33 had been found so far, with the majority of them being within the city, some were discovered outside of the city, fewer outside the province, and the furthest one so far being found in South Korea. A couple of these victims had seemingly transformed into Pokemon after the incident, though authorities were left unsure if there truly was a connection, or if it was simply a coincidence. They offered some names of the still missing too. Tsuyoni Imai, Mio Matsumura, I snorted at the name Gregory Edgesworth being in the list, and...
Tae Matsui.
My stomach dropped as I read her name. She had been caught up in this freak teleportation accident, and ended up some 5,000 miles from her own family. My blood joined the awful feeling of my stomach, turning to molten slag when I read the statement provided to the press by the family, claiming that it was unlikely she had survived. She called someone before this article came up, and Occam's razor dictates that it was most likely them. I thought that I had gotten unbelievably tolerant of bullshit after dealing with it for more than 10 years. State politics were a corrosive force that eroded part of my identity a long time ago from having to fight bullshit in Sacramento. I either was very, very wrong about my tolerance for bullshit, or I just found my new breaking point.
I looked over to Matsui again. I typically was very good at being able to put myself in other's shoes-or at least I let myself believe I was-but I couldn't even begin to fathom full weight the situation for her. It was hard to believe she wasn't crying the entire time, because I sure would've been crying for encountering less than half of the hardship she was going to face. Did she even understand the true nature of the situation herself? Whatever the case, I ended making a silent vow to see the best outcome that she could acquire happen.
I turned my phone off, putting it down. I couldn't charge it tonight, my engine was off, but I still plugged it in so I wouldn't get the chance to forget tomorrow. I'd lean back my seat back all the way, and look through the front window. The cloudy skies didn't give me much to focus on, but I just needed a moment of calm and quiet to decompress. God knew I needed it, even if I couldn't tell if I needed it myself in the moment.
Author's Note
I was informed that reading raw Japanese was going to be annoying. Looking back, yeah, not my smartest idea, I can absolutely see how that's obnoxious. For now I'm going to experiment with phrasing the Japanese dialogue in very barebones SOV to make it obvious it's in Japanese, and host a second version of this later which has the Japanese actually written. It's still good practice for me.
Honestly looking back, this plan was also very annoying, but I'm sticking to it for lack of a better option. I'm going to rewrite these untranslated lines in normal English once I have a nicer way to convey that it was spoken in Japanese. It needs to be less hamfisted. I'm taking suggestions if I ever do a chapter 2.
I think my paragraphs could use some work. They don't feel right but I can't quite tell why they're off. I think it may be because I didn't do a good job with each paragraph focusing on one subject.
Word count: 7,210
Edit: HOW DID I GET MY CAR COLOR INCONSISTENT!? I also went over and fixed some minor errors I noticed on a quick reading before bed. Please be as rough as possible when criticizing me! Pre-edit word count: 7,124
Edit: I fixed San Marino into my intended target of Malta. Pre-edit word count: 7,211
Chapter 2: A Better Place
It was nearly 12 PM when I finally woke up. Matsui had politely let me rest, though she scowled at me when I finally did wake up. I couldn't muster up the care for it, though I did struggle actually pulling the soft blankets off. They were so warm, and the vehicle was ice cold. It was so cold, in fact, that the vehicle's windows had frosted over on both sides-which felt bizarre given what time it was. I didn't think much of it though, eventually forcing those blankets off and letting the cold shock me awake. If every neuron was dedicated to loathing, there wouldn't be enough neurons to feel this much despisement towards the cold.
After throwing my blankets and my pillow in the back, I tried to open the car door. Despite putting a fair amount of force on the door itself to try to to swing it open, it refused to budge. Alright, that's a little weird. I tried again, this time sitting in my seat up fully I was and this time the car door was shoved opened with a sluggish crunch, the door giving me a lot of resistance. I slipped out of my car and turned around, seeing-no, WITNESSING a thick frost covering the entirety of the car. Suddenly, a faded memory of my dad talking about why he shifted into first gear rather than engaging the parking brake. I thanked the lucky stars that I put the car in first. Not that it mattered, as the brakes were rotors, not drums, but I still didn't want to find out if the rotors could get fused to the wheel, given that the car looked like Richard Hammond was executing a prank slowly, whilst grinning.
As I attempted to get my trunk open, my groggy brain began to realize this was a completely unnatural amount of ice. It was quite warm out, and there were no other cars with frost nearby. Furthermore, the frost dominated mostly just the driver side of my car, though there was still ice on the passenger side. Matsui was probably behind it, but I couldn't really figure out her motivations, at least for now. The moment that my trunk finally opened-with far more force exerted than I wanted to-was the moment I stopped thinking about why Matsui would do such a thing, or how she figured out how to do it.
I grabbed my toothpaste and trudged into the lukewarm bathrooms. The mirrors stood out almost immediately as I approached the sink I was going to use. They looked like poorly polished steel, as if they had come straight out of a video game that didn't have reflections. Graffiti had been carved into them and one of them had been completely covered by an orange paint. The vandals, as per usual, were no long around, having made their mark and left before anyone could possibly see them. It was quite frustrating to witness such a mess in a public restroom, but I did not dwell on it. I put the toothbrush to my teeth, focusing on the task at hand.
The stinging mint of my toothpaste helped wake me up further. The three or so minutes I would spend brushing my teeth would give me time to think about my plans today. I paced back and forth, my mind centered squarely on Matsui, who would have to be the first and immediate problem to solve. I wouldn't offer her a trip home yet, since that was impractical from my own position, and I worried that returning home wouldn't have worked out anyways. That left two reasonable options for her. Either I could drop her off somewhere, or she could continue her trip with me. If she continued with me, I knew that I'd have to offer the trip home eventually, but that was still a pain in the ass. I could only hope the Japanese embassy would accept her story and issue her a limited-validity passport to get home. I had time to compose the question in my head before heading back to the vehicle.
After rinsing the toothpaste out of my toothbrush, I marched my way back to the vehicle. Under my breath, I rehearsed a couple of times, just making sure I got the flow right. Once I arrived, I didn't bother putting anything away in the trunk, instead just tossing it behind me once I got settled into the driver's seat. There was a very drawn out pause as I slowly looked over to Matsui. She wasn't scowling anymore, but she did have an expectant look.
<Ano... You have two choices,> I began. <You can either stay with me, or I can drop you off somewhere where there's other Japanese speakers.>
Without even hesitation, she responded. <You are just a little,> she'd begin saying, but trailed off. The implication was crystal clear. At least it wasn't her calling me completely unpleasant to work with for a third time, though that really didn't make the rejection sting any less.
I instinctively opened my mouth to protest, but my words uncharacteristically caught in my throat. I found myself unable to really think of a defense for myself. Well, I could, but nothing that would win me any points. Not to mention, a part of it felt deeply selfish, wanting her tied to me. Besides, I didn't want to pick a fight less than 15 minutes after I woke up. That would be reserved for when I got to college, and get to see adults triple my age with less wisdom than literal 4 year old children attempting politics.
Oh god. The politics. Was there ever a more corrosive and destabilizing force for your soul? So much of my life was wasted being neck deep in it when I wasn't even an adult. Never ending, never relenting, and never reasonable. I felt the heavy feeling of fatigue set in, and already was looking for a way out of what came next.
I vaguely recalled my professor serviced two colleges, and not just California State University Sacramento. I figured that there was a chance I could stop by the other one and avoid that headache. I knew next to nothing about this other college, I just knew he did Japanese for both, and there would be Japanese speakers there too.
While I preferred to be choosy with the college I dropped her off at, I also doubted she wanted to stick around for one extra day if it turned out that he was going to be at Sac. State today. Putting the nail in the coffin was when I finally realized that it was in California anyways. It didn't really matter which college you ended up at. No matter how far north or east you went here, attempting to find somewhere where the politics weren't some flavor of extreme was like trying to find fresh water in an ocean of piss. It felt easier to stick with what was familiar, even if familiar was getting electroshock therapy and a sounding rod stuck down your dick at 7 AM on a weekend.
With resignation heavily soaking my slow exhale, I pulled out my phone. With a few taps on the emptied out UI, I found myself in the Japanese club Discord server. I didn't know his account name directly, so I had to find him in the server. That proved pretty damn easy. He nicknamed himself Sensei, after all. Unfortunately, he was offline, so I left him a PM for him to respond to.
"Hey, I kind of need a favor. I have this former-human turned Alolan Vulpix with me that really, REALLY doesn't want to be with me. The trouble is that I can't just leave her out here, because as far as I can tell, she only speaks Japanese and I'm kind of in the middle of fucking Bumfuck, Nowhere right now. Furthermore, she's an undocumented, she got wrapped up in some disaster in Japan." I had to dig up the NHK article from last night again, but once I found it, I attached the link. "Her name's Matsui Tae. Do you mind if I drop her off after class today?"
I saw my online handle, "Messy Valor," show up as proof that I had sent it, though I waited a somewhat unsettling amount of time until the text went from gray to white before I finally set my phone down. It was likely I'd have to wait a couple of hours for a response. Not that this was a problem, I could just drive south and be near the college when he responded. It also gave me some time to think of an emergency backup plan, in the unlikely event that he told me "no."
With a turn of my head, my eyes met Matsui's gaze once more. <Anoo... I have asked for assistance.>
She turned away. <That is very nice,> was her only remark on the matter.
I pinched my face, letting my thumb and index pressure my eyes for a moment with a satisfying squelch, before moving on to pinching the bridge of my nose. I did not let my right hand linger there. I disassociated from my environment, just letting myself get invested in the task and having my consciousness abandon the world around for me. The car started without my notice, and I only barely registered that I slammed the car into reverse to back out of the parking spot. I went through the motions of checking back while I backed out, but if I had to be honest, I would admit that I doubted I would notice if anything was actually behind me.
I would've loved to say something interesting happened on the way, but really it didn't. I didn't put on music or anything else to drown out the awkward silence, so the start of the ride was simply me driving on complete autopilot, headed down I-5. I didn't get far though, because I was swiftly reminded that neither of us had eaten yet.
<Oi, food would be very nice.>
Yup, you and me both, Matsui.
We had just passed by the town of Mt. Shasta, so I had to pull over at the next town over. It didn't take me long to take exit 732, and hook a left down a road who's name I didn't even catch. I was just following gut instincts, as I didn't actually know what was in that direction. Thankfully, taking another left brought us to an aluminum plated diner called Penny's Diner. I couldn't recall ever eating here before, but my hopes were a little high. I knew that foreigners generally liked American diners. "Just like the movies," y'know? It'd be quite a disappointment for her if it turned out rather bad.
I hopped online to check out their menu. Google was abnormally slow, but eventually I got to their menu. They had all sorts of good breakfast stuff, though my eyes instantly clocked their Western burger. Any burger that has barbeque sauce and onion rings had me sold immediately. Part of me dreaded the fact that conveying the menu in Japanese would be a struggle for me. Despite this, I did my best, and she seemed to understand the menu items well enough, so I was going to take the small victory.
Once she had settled on a crispy chicken salad of all things, I came to a realization that she couldn't actually go inside, on account of this being California. Even if it was North, foul memories of being demanded to show that I was vaccinated still lingered in my mind. I had to settle on just ordering it as take out. I headed in by my lonesome self to go collect the food, taking one prolonged look at the interior. Under different circumstances, I think this diner would've been great to have taken Matsui into. It was quite a cozy sight, and I suspected she'd enjoy the decor.
Once I had the food, I headed back to the car. Wordlessly, I opened up the salad and scarfed down my burger. The food was delicious, with the onion rings crispy and the barbeque sauce tangy. I began to kick myself over not savoring my food. Another part of me tried to silence this criticism by proclaiming I wasn't deserving of the food I had just enjoyed. I found myself agreeing more with this criticism, because it was a familiar and comfortable feeling to counter other negative feelings, though I didn't exactly enjoy agreeing with it.
Searching for a distraction, I looked over to Matsui. She was picking up the individual pieces of lettuce and chicken, and eating them out of her paws. It was, in a word, a cute display, though it held a terrible undertone. She was really struggling with this change. Any smile that could've been mustered from it was immediately washed away before it could even propagate across my face.
My mind wandered over to if my professor had responded yet. Unfortunately, I discovered that I wasn't going to get my answer for now. My cell service had completely and utterly disappeared, despite having full signal less than 10 minutes ago. My urge to also turn on the GPS so I knew for certain which direction to was also left unsatiated, and to top it all off, I'd get no Newgrounds Radio for my trip down south. Curse my damn luck.
The path to the college was iffy. I didn't have the maps downloaded, so I had to rely entirely off of my sense of direction. I had improved over the few years I'd been taking my ass cross-country, but I still didn't feel like I could trust it. It was quite the predicament. That didn't change the facts of the situation, however. There were be no other options in this moment, at least not any that would be better. Relying on my consistently incorrect sense of direction it was.
A three hour ride where I could go three hours in the wrong direction, and make it a six hour ride. This was going to go just fine.
I took another glance at Matsui. She had only finished about a quarter of the salad. I was going to be here for a bit. I sighed, contemplating my choice of glasses. There was literally nothing wrong with the glasses I currently wore. They would tint over when I faced the sun, so I didn't really need to worry about that-not that the sun was a worry, as it was most likely not going to be in my face for the journey. Still, I considered swapping over to my aviators. They'd make me look cool, if absolutely nothing else.
I took my time, battling the short list of pros and cons mentally. I imagined it as almost a sort of Ace Attorney trial, trying to consume as much of my brain power as possible. The main thing holding me back was getting them out of the glovebox. Matsui was sitting in front of the glove box, something the Arcanine prosecutor kept pressing on, in a strange, almost Gumshoe-like manner. "It'd bother her and her eating," they reasoned in a somewhat incompetent manner. The Ninetales I had decided was the defense attorney would counter argue the rule of cool, but only after being changed to a Lucario, and then a fake regional Ninetales based on tropical storms. I struggled to figure out what a good Pokemon would be for the defense attorney in this mock trial, or if the roles should be reversed. Why should they be Pokemon? I could just pit Kane and Foxsparks or something, or even a kitsune and a kumiho. There were many options that I could waste time with, and that was something I capitalized on.
For the next 20 minutes or so, that's what I did. The same arguments, over and over, in different voices and bodies. The room changed a couple of times, but each subsequent time was notably less detailed than the first. That was a sign of my mind wearing out what little creative juices I had in me. Was it boring? As much as I had wished it wouldn't be, hell yeah it was. Tedium could only occupy me for so long. I checked my phone several times, hoping that the signal would return. It did return, for a very brief period of time, but it was not while I was paying attention. The peace was shattered at the roughly 20 minute mark by a startlingly loud "critically missing adult" alert.
I checked my phone quickly, immediately noting the 1 bar of 4G roaming that vanished almost as soon as I looked down. It was a missing 43 year old in the state of Virginia of all fucking places. It frustrated and bewildered me that for the brief fractions of a second I had signal, I had received a missing persons alert for a state that was on the complete other side of the landmass. Are you fucking kidding me? How does that even happen!? Are they not locked to the cell towers and are broadcast across the entire country? Why the fuck would you design something like that?
I sighed, dismissing the alert, my mind dully registering the 2006 Gray Chevrolet Aveo mentioned in the alert. The silent question of why that car seemed familiar popped into my head, but it faded into mist once I caught Matsui out of the corner of my eye. She was set up in a defensive stance, mist pouring off of her tails. Her paws were planted pretty firmly into my fabric seats. That included her greasy, dressing-covered front paws.
"Are you fucking kidding me," I snapped at her, a verbal repetition I didn't mean to say. I couldn't stop myself from blurting it out. I quickly delved into my center console, grabbing some napkins.
Matsui tried to respond immediately, but struggled to get her words together. After a moment, she managed to ask <what are you doing,> certainly on even more edge by my tone.
<Ano... Juice! Spread on my chair The word juice would have to suffice. I knew that fruit juice was really far away from what I actually wanted, but I didn't know how to properly describe grease and salad dressing at the moment. I tossed a couple of napkins down, pointing to them. <Stand,> I ordered.
She looked down, before her eyes widened. She put her two paws on the napkins, making some strange noises before finally saying <I'm sorry> multiple times.
<Don't think about it,> I told her in as calm of a voice as I could muster. I raised the center console out of the way and leaned over, frantically scrubbing at my fabric seat. It wasn't getting much out. God, why can't I ever seem to keep this vehicle clean? Eventually, I managed to deal with most of the fluids, disintegrating three napkins in the process. At least, I hoped that it wasn't just being pushed deeper into the seat, but it probably had been. I turned my attention to Matsui, who was feebly scrubbing her own paws.
<Let me help you.> I grabbed a few more napkins, before Matsui objected.
<No, no! I clean myself
<You're not cleaning anything.> I didn't want to be as blunt as that, but she really wasn't achieving much with her lack of dexterity. I grabbed ahold of one of her paws and proceeded to gently scrub out the grease, much to her verbalized dismay.
<No good
<Sorry. Good.>
<No!? No good
I huffed. <Good,> I tried to state firmly. I took note of how much air blew through my nostrils in my attempt. It was hard to stop myself from noticing it, really. I'd tried for years in vain to try to stop it, but every week my voice only became even more nasally. It was my eternal hell to have the world's worst voice.
No wonder she wanted away from me. I'd want away from the nasally bastard who kept forcing himself into everything too.
The pit grew in my stomach as I realized what was going on. Now was not the time to fall into the abyss.
<Clean Matsui's voice snapped my thoughts back to the here and now before they could careen out of control. I inspected my work, making sure there wasn't anything either of us missed, before moving onto the next paw. She gave me an unpleasant expression, but she didn't protest this time, seemingly understanding that I was too stubborn to let her just try to clean her other paw after all of this.
I had to admit, having someone able to bring me back was a pleasant upheaval on the normal status quo. It was certainly going to suck when she'd disappear from my life. Perhaps that was why I tried to defend her staying with me.
I've let my life degenerate into a miserable state of affairs.
The moment Matsui felt that her paw was clean, she jerked it away, quickly lifting to her hind legs to get away from me. I stared at her for a moment, trying to process why in the hell she thought that was a good idea. Eventually, I turned away to grab my phone.
I checked the signal, discovering that, once more, there was still no signal. As I did so, I heard Matsui groan as she fell back to her front feet, accompanied with a little thump. Matsui muttered something far too quickly for me to actually catch what she said. It probably wasn't even that important anyways. I flicked my eyes to my right as I turned my key, and saw Matsui with her head on the seat, and paws over her head. Her eyes moved, presumably to look at me, before moving again and squeezing shut.
I got the car moving, slowly pulling the junker of an engine up to 65. The engine rumble verberated up the steering column, threatening to give out on me, but it made it. I already knew that the engine was temperamental and would do this sometimes. If I ever stalled out, I'd just restart the engine and try again, and eventually I'd get up to speed, no matter how many tries it would take. I just wished, as I did every time, that it wouldn't do it right now.
With the car finally going the speed limit, I recognized leaving Matsui alone with her apparent struggles for any longer than necessary would be a terrible idea, but I needed to focus on navigating the road I wasn't familiar with first before trying to play Pidgin therapist here. The quiet roar of the bad window seals letting in air filled the cabin, which prevented the hushed voices scratching at my brain from taking root, at least for now. I let this roar go uninterrupted for what felt like a few minutes, before finally speaking.
<Are you okay?>
<Was there a time where I was not okay?>
The negative threw me off. Was it a rhetorical question? Those would be asked as negative questions. Still, I didn't know her enough. Matsui might genuinely just think she's okay in this moment, despite her outward actions. I had to prod a little more.
<Would you like to talk about it?>
<Unpleasant.> Ah, I was wondering when that'd show up again. I let it sit, hoping to hear a reversal. I wanted to be aware of her problems so I could help her as much as I could, or at least be able to tell my professor what was wrong when I handed her over. Unfortunately, that rejection remained heavyset, never budging.
With no more questions I could muster from my limited vocabulary, and Matsui's reluctance to speak up, my mind wandered off to other things. I began to think about my next personal pet project. Perhaps, it should be a literal PET project. The Commodore PET was quite an unusual and quite limited device. I had been wanting to sink my teeth into another 6502 project after failing to do anything with the Atari 2600. I knew a little bit about the hardware, so I began devising my strategy.
I'd make a file editor. A simple hexadecimal file editor, that can edit both tapes and floppies. Super simple! Easily done! My mind set to work, mapping out my future plans. Numbers filled my vision as I recalled memory maps, planned out my memory consumption, how I'd have to handle the keyboard input. The trees and road fell away to lines, logic, blinking pale blue cursors, and a memorized PETscii chart. The cars wouldn't disappear, since I had enough of a mind to not miss them. It'd really be embarrassing if I found myself deep in thought only to hit a truck.
We sat in awkward silence for the next few hours. On occasion, it felt like Matsui was about to say something, though I wasn't sure why it felt like that. Maybe it was the occasional, strange high-pitched but soft noise she kept making before shuffling around, as if she were uncomfortable in her current position. Perhaps it was my feeble hope that she would take an interest in someone as disappointing as me.
Though the ride was awkward, it wasn't too uncomfortable. The lack of music meant I couldn't fully drown my mounting frustrations out, but it wasn't necessarily something I wasn't used to. No, what made me uncomfortable was that we passed a burning bush on the way. Matsui shouted in surprise as a wind-supplied jet of fire suddenly shot out and nearly licked the passenger side mirror. It was just another reminder that this state was a tinderbox waiting to ignite due to the terrible land mismanagement. I needed to get out of here as soon as Matsui was in more capable hands.
Before I even realized it, I had managed to find myself in one of the many visitor parking lots of Sac. State. A look at my phone showed me that the signal hadn't returned. I rebooted my phone after hesitating, losing a collection of an unhealthy amount of porn tabs in incognito, but no luck. I had to connect to the campus wifi to see anything. Thankfully, my old student login still worked for the time being, so I did not have to worry about not being able to contact my teacher.
Though a Discord notification popped up as soon as I connected to the school wifi, I was more interested in the news. Did other people have issues with the cell towers? As it would turn out, yeah. The entirety of California and parts of northern Oregon had apparently lost all of its cell towers in what was rumored to be a targeted cyber attack, in the wake of California firing yet more cybersecurity experts. I couldn't help but crack a smile at the sheer absurdity.
After reading up on the matter, and glancing at a few unrelated news headlines, I finally decided to check Discord. It was my professor.
"a bit of an odd request," my professor had written back. In a following message, he would add "i just checked with the missus, she has no issue with this. stop by mariposa hall, room 108 after 4."
Ah, fuck. I knew where Mariposa was. That was here. God. Damn it. One look at the clock told me that the time was almost 4:12. And of course I'm a bit late!
<Bag, please,> I ordered Matsui, as I put up a metallic sunshade in my car. The plastic dash was degraded enough, I didn't need it becoming any more brittle and misshapen than it already has.
<Do I have to?>
I slowly turned to Matsui, a grimace growing across my face. I didn't even have the words to convey the concept of not wanting to look like I, a white man who looked sinister at the best of times, was carrying a bioweapon across a far left campus with radical racially-charged politics.
Well, maybe I had a couple of those words. <Puts me in danger. Policore.>
<Policore, is that so? Anoooo... Okay.> She got into the bag with great hesitancy. I began to think that perhaps describing the college as "politically correct" might not have been the best description I could've used there, but I just wasn't sure how else to describe it to her.
Once she was in, I shouldered the bag, and got out of the vehicle. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, before remembering that I had to buy myself a parking pass. I weighed my options. The 10 dollar parking pass made sure I had plenty of time, but on the other hand, I REALLY didn't want to be here for any longer than 2 hours, and the 5 dollar pass was cheaper. The internal weighing was short, and I acquired myself a 5 dollar pass to put up in my window. I also took the quick trip back to my car to fish out my sapphire lensed aviators. I didn't want anyone to look me in the eye if I could help it.
Once my glasses were exchanged, and my car locked up, I marched straight onto the campus. The atmosphere was absolutely nothing like I remembered. The further I went in, the more I expected the oppressive and charged aura to suffocate me, but there was instead a current of something else that I just couldn't place as I progressed along my rails. It was somewhat unsettling, as if something critical was missing to the experience here.
I saw a Flareon cause an explosion in an attempt to launch itself onto the roof of a building, and it sparked my slow realization on what had changed. What started as a peculiar sight slowly made me realize that I saw all sorts of Pokemon and people acting mostly nonchalant about the Pokemon being here. Many seemed to be interacting directly with the Pokemon too. I saw people who I was certain hadn't earnestly smiled in years with crooked, beaming smiles that reached their eyes. The torment that used to pervade this accursed place had practically vanished overnight, a miracle I never thought was even possible.
I guess Matsui didn't need to be in the bag here after all. What a fucking moron I am.
<Oi, you can leave the bag if you want.> The option had to be presented.
<No,> she replied. She followed it up with something but I didn't quite catch the words. It was something along the lines of "I am lost," which was a weird statement, but she was clear about the no so I didn't press on it. I did feel her shift around in the bag though, and eventually place her front paws on my shoulder, using it to leverage herself somewhat out of the bag. It was uncomfortable, but I tried to pay it as little mind as possible.
As I walked along, a very malicious part of me began to wonder just how deep this peace actually ran. No one here was wearing masks or anything, which was absolutely bonkers to me, especially after I had experienced the COVID lockdowns and how draconian everything was. Before I began my crossing of the campus, I figured I would've seen a few of them, but no, not even one. Almost all of the CDC guidelines that were once used to bludgeon me and confine me to my dorm in the past were not implemented here.
An opportunity presented itself. A man was walking by me. It was so tempting. Nose ring, gangly limbs and a somewhat dirty wife beater. I really wanted to ask... but I didn't. The answer was obvious for me, and Matsui was with me. I didn't want her to see how bad things actually were here. I let myself wonder how long it would take before the system of malice that turned promising men and women into obedient, hateful drones asserted the status quo again. My brain even went as far as making some estimates. 4 months was the one I settled on being the most reasonable.
After all, miserable people created the system, and miserable people hate being the only miserable people around. I should know. That's why I even drove myself out here to give up Matsui, so that she had a chance to still be content, even in these trying times.
As soon as I made it into Mariposa, I beelined for the classroom, passing by offices and classrooms with political messaging posted right outside the door. Mariposa was the arts building, so it had your typical bullshit. A history on the terms "latinx" and "latine," some radical feminist literature just hanging out on a bookshelf in the hallway with literally nothing else in the bookshelf, posters about racial representation and reparations, how to resist ICE on the emergency protocols list alongside how to evacuate the building and what to do in the event of an active shooter... The list could endlessly go on if given the chance, but it was all the usual political bullshit you'd expect.
However, on top of the usual propaganda, one caught my eye. Hanging up on the door of a office with the "inclusion" LGBT-bipoc flag in the top slot of the respective wall mounted mail organizer was a poster that covered the window. It read that the president was dismantling public education, and to stop the machine. My blood pressure raised a little bit as I legged it down the hallway even faster. Did these mother fuckers not realize that public schooling WAS the machine? You can't make an /entire/ population despise their families and the values that the previous generations stood for by just leaving them alone, you know! Yeah, sure, some will naturally come to that conclusion, but it takes an external force for it to be as wide spread as it is in this accursed state!
What a silly question. They knew that they were the machine, they're just engaging in the ever cowardly tactic of misdirection by projection. Accuse the enemy of what you're doing to sow doubts and confusion. Absolute fucking faggots, perhaps quite literally given the flag. Of course they'd do that. They're trying to defend their utterly broken system that subjected me and every other child that's had to go through it to a grim fate. Unwavering pawns of the very machine they created, or utterly broken and rejected.
I didn't have time to stew in my resentment, as I arrived at MRP-108 within mere seconds after my mind began to put pieces together. Relieved that I did not need to go down that rabbit hole, I peered inside, and saw that the professor was still talking to someone. I spun around and leaned up against the wall to wait-and received a quick nip in the ear.
"Ow-What the fuck!" I got off the wall quickly, the weight suddenly shifting down my back as Matsui slid in deeper.
<I'm in the bag, idiot
<Sorry,> a single word said without much hesitation. Fucking retard, couldn't even wait around right without someone rightfully putting you in your place.
It didn't take long for the last student to leave the classroom. I peered over, seeing my professor attempt to load whiteboards into his own backpack.
<Good afternoon, teacher,> I said, my tone monotonous and low. I approached my former professor, unshouldering the bag. I felt the twin spots where it had rested sting as nothing applied pressure anymore.
<Good afternoon,> he responded in tired kind. It was a little ritual we had established from the first few weeks in JPN-0001. Even when I struggled to do anything else for the day, I could at least greet the professor in Japanese, and he would appreciate the bare minimum of effort at the start of class.
Logically, he didn't actually appreciate it, but it was still a ritual we had and far be it from me to break from one of the only things that made me do something remotely of value on the days where I was worthless.
I didn't stay with the Japanese for long. I was out of practice still, and would continue to be for the foreseeable future. Soon, I wouldn't have a reason to improve. "Yeah, sorry for the awkwardness of the situation... to put it mildly. I just didn't know what to do."
"Hey, it's all good. I understand. This somehow is not even the strangest request I've had this week."
I, for some reason, doubted that immensely, but I didn't really raise an objection to it. I couldn't find the energy. Matsui attempted to pop her head back out of the bag, but found herself struggling to find anything to leverage herself upward with. I decided to help by putting the bag down in the seat of one of the many desks, letting her clamber out of the bag and onto the desk.
"That's Matsui-san right there," I said as I pointed to her. Seriously? I just had to point to her? "She's somewhat of a pain in my ass, but she'll probably be better for you."
"Ah, I see. You didn't tell me that her fur would look like glitter."
"Didn't seem relevant. I uh-"
"Do you know what kind of food she needs to eat?"
My face scrunched up, but it relaxed quickly. I simply didn't have the energy to object to him cutting me off. "I fed her a hot dog and chicken salad, and she seemed to eat both with no problems, so I assume her diet's omnivorous." Made sense to me, since any Pokemon could eat any berry or bean.
I wondered, did they even have specialized diets which restricted what they could actually eat, or were they all omnivorous with biological preferences? Obviously, some could subsist off of things others couldn't, souls being a surprisingly commonly used food source for ghost-types, but was it a necessity or could they get away with just eating black beans and rice? I guess the world would be finding the answer to that pressing question in the coming months.
"I see," he said. He repeated himself absentmindedly as he returned to the task of loading whiteboards. "Is there anything else I should know about?"
I thought about it for a moment, trying to search my mind for anything. "Well, there's uhm... Hmm..." I barely know her. How am I supposed to know about allergies or anything of importance? "There's nothing I know of. I barely know her though, so you should be asking-"
<Oi! Do I not exist to you? I can speak for myself
I would turn my head over to Matsui, who held an unimpressed look that probably would've looked a lot more serious if she wasn't facing the screen between me and the professor. She could definitely see us from either corner of her eyes, but by attempting to focus on both of at us at once, it made it look like she was trying to give us a comical amount of side-eye. It really, really didn't help that I couldn't tell which direction her featureless eyes were facing, the slight imperfections in her cornea changing how the light refracted being the only thing that told me her eyes WERE moving between us.
<Miss Matsui, I haven't forgotten about you,> my professor responded, far quicker than Matsui had spoke to me. It reminded me of how out of practice I actually was with my Japanese. The fact I still remembered the vocabulary enough to understand it astounded me. <The next class in this classroom is in about 10 minutes. You can introduce yourself to me once I'm packed up.>
<Why are you talking to him about me and not asking me?> Matsui chose to match his pace, which made it even harder to decipher what she was saying. Still, I managed it.
<Because he was my student and was the one to bring you here.>
Matsui huffed in response, but didn't say anything else. That let the professor turn his attention back to me. "Alright, I appreciate you coming out here. Was there anything else you needed?"
A pressing matter was pushed to the forefront of my brain as the short conversation reached a standstill. I needed desperate help, from someone I knew I could trust in. I could already see what was coming, and my heart was beginning to climb up my throat out of anxiety. The typhoon had arrived and was beginning to swallow me whole once more. To say I was scared would be a massive understatement. How could someone who had been battered and bruised many times over in the same way not be scared by it? I could only keep trudging this path for so long, these endless repeating cycles of prolonged self-abuse were threatening to eventually drown me. I opened my mouth, ready to ask to have a deeper conversation. It was a simple question, I JUST needed to ask it. He had time, I knew he didn't have another class for at least an hour, and it'd be here too. All I had to do was-
"Nope! Thank you professor. Take good care of her, please." I turned and made a swift exit, practically sprinting down the hallway. I did not deserve help. I was beyond it at this point anyways. I would've gotten it years ago if I truly could've been helped.
. . . NGAAAAAAAAH, WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WAS THAT!? He was RIGHT THERE! What is god damn wrong with me?! That logic's twisted in pretzels! It'd be too awkward to turn back now and ask, and I was worried that hanging around would make me look suspicious, so I was stuck marching my sorry ass out the door. Son of a bitch, this is unbelievable!
I took a detour without realizing, entering the men's room. Before I had even thought to do so, I splashed frigid water across my face. The sudden blast of cold gave me a minute of calm focus. Hunching over the sink, I stared at my own reflection in the mirror. My nose was a bit too fat, and a bent at a sickening angle. The darkness around my already plenty dark eyes left me looking like I simply had ugly voids in place of my eyes. My freckles were pale, the dirt of my face occluding the most interesting feature of my face. My brown hair was greasy and shaggy, and my wiry beard tangled in every direction. It didn't help that I could easily see how much hair I had lost from balding. Even though I wasn't focusing on my lower body, I could even see the variance in musculature of my arm. God, it was like I was a fucking Left 4 Dead charger, with how small my left arm was compared to my right. My shirt was a ragged mess, with holes on the neck line from where I'd chewed on it out of stress, and dark spots of grease leftover from when I dropped food while eating. It also did a wonderful job making my man boobs way too obvious. Eurgh.
I stood there for a few minutes, just staring intently at myself. Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. My blood pressure soared, and exactly as I had before, I turned heel and left in rapid fashion. The cold air helped reestablished my lost focus, and I could finally let myself address what had happened back there. Of course my avoidant behavior was going to happen again, I've always done shit like that. It was near impossible for me to address my problems, even when I needed it at my lowest point. I didn't know what had been stopping me from ever seeking help. I was always quick to offer it to anyone who needed it, but receiving it felt like an utterly alien idea, conceived of by minds that could only exist in another dimension.
Perhaps it was a "who watches the watcher" sort of deal. Who helps the helpful? It could've also been pride, too. I had long since suspected I still had a sense of ego somewhere in this rotting shell of a brain, much to my dismay. Maybe it was because I didn't want to burden others? That one felt the most "right" emotionally, but I was hardly in the correct state of mind to determine that. Besides, the attempt at rationalization fell flat. Did my friends think it was right of me to cut myself out of their lives to prevent them from getting harmed?
I was too wrapped up in this internal debate that I failed to register that I was about to trip. I failed to catch myself and faceplanted into something very soft and rather solid. I tried to push myself up, feeling something warm and more luxurious than velvet on both my hands and face as I desperately attempted to push myself up. I could feel something yanking on me, attempting to free itself from underneath me, which only made things worse because I could barely find the ground as whatever was beneath me kept shifting under me.
Dread iced my veins as tan filled my vision. My aviators had been knocked off, so I was left with a fairly blurry view, but I would recognize what I was on pretty much anywhere. I scrambled out of the mess of tails I found myself on, perhaps making things worse. I could not have been any happier when I finally managed to escape and touch dirt. Unfortunately, my relief was cut short by a growl.
"Hey, hey! Look-look-look-look-look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I turned to face the Ninetales in the eyes, and in that moment, my world began to spin. The soft red glow was as beautiful as it was inviting-but a primal part of me screamed that it was a trap. My eyes slammed shut in an instant to protect myself. There was a part of my mind that was sent reeling regardless, and I felt an onset of vertigo and a complete disorientation of my limbs which thankfully couldn't have lasted longer than a few long seconds.
I didn't know why I could resist the allure, perhaps it was because I was practically blind without my glasses, and therefore the effects weren't nearly as strong as they should've been. Regardless, the Ninetales growled at the thwarted attempt to seize my mind as their property. I could feel them get close quickly, their heated breath almost singing my skin. I leaned back, trying to get away from the heat licking my skin.
"If you're gonna get that close, you-you may as well take me out for dinner first!"
The quip slipped out far quicker than I could filter myself, complimenting the feelings of nervousness and unease coursing across every nerve with raw terror. Despite the rapidly multiplying fears of retaliation tightening my chest, thankfully they didn't turn me into roast pork, though they pulled away with a snarl.
"You're not worth the paperwork," came a high, accented tenor voice. I could feel a slight sense of calm comfort my nerves. Regrettably, my relief was misplaced, as I was quickly slammed with what felt like a sack of cloth covered bricks, and my head impacted the sidewalk. Sharp, coursing pain radiated from my body from both directions, and a headache was quickly on its way to join the party.
He began to step away, the grass softly rustling under their paws, though they paused after only a few seconds. "May you live in interesting times." With that, the Ninetales walked away for good.
I laid on the ground for a while, just contemplating every last action in my life that led up to that exact moment in blind silence, and replaying the quip over and over, head throbbing with each repeat. People walked by me as I sat there, my body evidently not in the way of them. No one bothered to check if I was okay, which honestly I didn't mind. They had classes to get to, and I'd be physically fine in the end. One seemed to take notice though, lingering for a moment and bending down with a pair of grunts.
While the terror had faded away relatively quickly, the embarrassment really, REALLY did not want to go. I did just tell a dude who hadn't just threatened me but actively tried to take my sovereignty that they should "take me out to dinner first." It didn't really matter that I didn't KNOW they were a dude and took a gamble on a gender ratio that I didn't even know was applicable or not, I still told someone who was about half an inch from my face and brimming with fiery rage that they should "TAKE ME OUT TO DINNER." God, what the hell was I even thinking with that?! Evidently, I wasn't thinking!
And then, there were his parting words. "May you live in interesting times..." As if their very existence in that moment as a Ninetales somehow wasn't interesting enough for the both of us!? These are some of the most interesting times possible! If they tried to curse me to experience "interesting times," I felt pretty confident in nothing changing.
Oh, right. A deep unease began to greet my stomach with a punchy authority as I realized they were in a position to curse people. That's more than a little worrying. I prayed I wasn't just cursed for the accidental and completely understandable mistake of not paying attention and falling face first on someone's spread tails... which was a hell of a statement. I tried to do a mental check over, and while the pain made it difficult, I couldn't really tell if there was anything particularly different. Perhaps I was safe, at least for today.
Eventually, I opened my eyes again. I found my aviators were right next to my face. I silently thanked the person who had lingered around to wordlessly give me back my sun glasses. I wasn't really in the state to be searching for them. I slipped them back onto my face. They felt loose now, the left ear piece apparently bent out of shape. Not hard to fix, but annoying. I rose off the ground quickly, only to stumble a bit as darkness consumed my vision. I managed to catch myself this time, holding my pounding head. I really hoped that I didn't have a concussion, because I'd be stranded here.
It seemed obvious after stabilizing myself and walking down the pathway that I didn't have a concussion. I was disgustingly durable, surviving even the worst situations like a cockroach. Every time I had ever been seriously hurt, it was by my own hands. This was just another step in that pattern. I'd be fine.
I didn't let myself slip back into deep introspection again. That had proven itself a mistake around here. I wasn't willing to hold the Ninetales' reaction against him though, as I could not imagine having a 200 pound slab of mis-steak landing on a body part that's clearly dense in nerves would've felt nice. It probably felt either a lot like me stepping on their balls, or very similar to 9 funny bones. Eugh, and now I felt my right elbow ring with phantom pain.
A part of me certainly screamed at me for justifying their reaction, but that part was growing smaller and rapidly insignificant to really care about. There was not enough energy to waste on that concern. However, it was hard to disagree that I needed a distraction that would still let me keep alert.
As I walked along, I noted every single Pokemon, making a small list of which ones I'd want to try to pet if I ever encountered one willingly offering it. It was kind of weird, but I needed a distraction, and that seemed like an obvious way. Imagining the haptics of everyday items always proved a good enough distraction when I had exhausted other options.
I decided to start with the Ninetales. I had already touched them and kind of knew what I was looking at. Significantly softer than the rabbit pelt I had growing up, but with longer and somewhat more dense fur, and naturally warm like a heated blanket. Screw petting, I'd bury my face in their fur if given the friendly chance.
The second on that list was a male Meowstic, who seemed to be face first in a Yookoso! book. The choice of book was kind of weird, because I knew this campus used Genki, and my professor had a lot of criticism with how Yookoso! handled things. I wondered if they were just seeing how bad the book really was. Turning my attention away from that, the coat gave me wirebrush vibes, based on how their tails curled, though I couldn't see the texture from this distance, and figured perhaps it could be different. I hoped the males remained more docile than the females, but I'd give it a shot on both.
Alolan Muk, just kind of hanging out near a tree with no one else around. I imagined it was pure slime, with no real structural form outside of the crystals that dotted its body. That could be fun to mess with, but the patch of rigid, brown grass surrounding it and the trail from the sewer grate to where it stood gave me plenty of reason to NOT to, and that's ignoring how the tree itself was rapidly decaying. Weren't those crystals sprinkled across their technicolor body as pock-marks literally pure poison anyways? Should I tell someone that the Muk's even there? I mean, surely someone else has noticed it...
The Flareon from earlier, still attempting a poor man's rocket jump. Definitely an attempt to pet. Hopefully they're not too hot, I think their mane transferred a lot of heat based on the pet spots I memorized, so I'd just have to avoid that. Their fur looked short and dense, probably a little like a scrub brush. I would welcome being wrong on that though.
There was an Indeedee offering drinks to someone else. I couldn't quite catch if they were a male or a female, mostly because I wasn't really familiar with the species, I just knew the shade of color and general body shape. If it brings them happiness, maybe pet? They probably don't get to be happy themselves very often, at least not in this world. Their fur didn't look particularly pleasant to touch, to be honest, but maybe that was simply how the light was oddly reflecting off of it.
A Skarmory sat on top of a light pole. The pole itself gently bent in one direction. I questioned if the pole was bending because it was some really cheap material and the Skarmory was a hundred pounds, or if there was another reason for it. In any case, the metal covering Skarmory looked very smooth, and was probably cool to the touch, but I was willing to bet that it's actually full of small scratches that would give it an almost leathery texture. I wondered how the red wings felt anyways, as their different color implied a different material. I'd be willing to figure those questions out any day.
I saw a Gastly get carried away overhead by a particularly strong gust of wind. They hardly looked pleased by their predicament. Could you even pet a ball of gas? I'd try it, but they were a poison type, so maybe I'd need a respirator to safely interact.
My internal adventures documenting every Pokemon I saw came to a halt as I passed by my old dorm building. What instead took my attention was a full sized top-freezer bottom-refrigerator that was outside that was not there when I originally passed by. That was a dorm refrigerator, outside for some ungodly reason. A couple of guys and a Growlithe were huddled near it, a bright red cherry with a curly stem their apparent interest.
One of the guys, wearing a white button-up, cut into it. A surprising amount of juice sprayed onto his shirt, far more than what felt reasonable for the fruit to contain. The other human of the group, wearing a black T-shirt and shorts with a Nintendo 64 logo, quickly added the split berry without its pit to a thin glass tube, covering the opening with his thumb soon as it was in. I watched as the white-wearing man proceeded to put the knife in the freezer.
I stopped in my tracks and stared a little slack jawed, trying to process what I had just seen. Who the hell puts a knife in the freezer? Apparently that man over there. Why? What were they even doing?
I got my answer pretty quickly. The man holding the glass tube removed his thumb from the top, before lowering it down to the Growlithe. I could see a small spark fly from the Growlithe's mouth. They muttered amongst themselves, but I was too far to really hear what they were saying.
The white shirted man disappeared into the dorm, and before I had the thought to leave, returned with a glass rod. They used the glass rod to mush up the berry, and tubular man plugged the glass tube with his thumb once more. This time, they shook the tube, before trying to repeat the spark experiment. The tube struggled to hold together as it lit up like a sputtering rocket engine.
My jaw went from slightly open to all the way open. What the hell kind of cherry does THAT? I began to approach. The Growlithe was the first to take note of me, but the others weren't very far behind on that.
"What-What the hell... The hell was even that?"
The man in white gave a cheerful but quiet laugh, his voice raspy. "What does it look like? An atom bomb?"
"We were testing a couple of theories involving cheri berries," said the man in black, his voice nasally. He gave the man in white a quick look, his expression barely readable and seemingly not happy with his joke. "We wanted to see if we could catch it on fire. Also, it's a quick way to do a calorie test if it does catch on fire."
A calorie test? I was dubious. "Doesn't that require more specialized equipment than a glass tube?"
"It was mostly to catch it on fire," he admitted.
The Growlithe opened their mouth to speak, their own voice startlingly deep. "Well Jason, satisfied?"
"Yeah, I think I am," the man in black responded. Jason bent down and set the tube down on the ground, slipping off some skin-colored gloves that I hadn't even realized were there.
"Well uh, mission successful... I guess." I turned to leave, but then I stopped myself. I craned my neck to the left, feeling the strain of my muscles as I looked at them again. "Hey, why is the fridge out here? And did I really see you put the knife in it?"
"Yuuuuuup," came an incredibly drawn out reply from the man in white. "We're not sure what cheri berries are exactly, but whatever it is, it's lively and does not like the aluminum of the knife. Sticking it in the freezer immediately seems to reduce the corrosion though."
There was a cautious silence before I tried asking the obvious. "Why did you not just wash the knife?"
"You think we're going to risk the PVC piping being torn apart by whatever's in it too?"
"What about just rinsing it with a hose?" My body slowly turned to fully face them, an autonomous action to reduce the stress on my neck. It was starting to hurt anyhow.
"Where exactly are we going to find a hose?"
"What about going to... I dunno, Target or something. That's a 30 minute walk."
"An hour to walk to Target and back, plus 20 minutes to MAYBE find a hose, plus another 10 to find a spigot... Oooooor we could just move the refrigerator outside and be done with it immediately."
"Okay, what about a jug of water?"
"Well, I uhh..." He didn't have an answer.
"We moved the freezer," the Growlithe piped up, "no reason for us to use the jug now."
"Ehh..." Yeah, I could see not abandoning the freezer idea after going through the effort of moving that thing out. "I... I guess there's also a chance that the water also may not fix the problem, too. So, I guess... stick with what you know, right?"
"Yeah, stick with what we know," came Jason's reply in an enthusiastic tone.
"Yeah, yeah, okay... Fair enough... fair enough. Well, you two have fun now!" I began to walk away, my questions finally answered and myself really wanting to get out of there.
"We plan to," came the reply of the Growlithe.
As I left the area, I overheard one last part of the exchange, starting with the Growlithe. "I am pretty sure that was the guy I saw on the ground earlier..." I was out of earshot before I could hear anyone's reaction to that apparent revelation. It didn't matter. They were probably just going to class or something.
As I left, my mind wandered back to the juice stain I witnessed. I looked down at my own shirt, struggling to see the grease spots all over my shirt. Must've just been the lighting hiding them. Regardless, I really needed to wash my shit. It had been a while and I was running out of clean clothes to change into.
It wouldn't matter how much I tried. Even without the stains, I permanently look like a mess and no amount of grooming or cleaning will fix that.
. . . Oh yeah, Growlithe. They looked pretty fluffy, though they probably weren't soft in the right way, so to speak. I'd certainly pet them, but I got the feeling that they'd have a sort of greasy fur, not unlike Olivette. I wondered how that stinker of a golden lab was doing. She was probably being a terror, as she always was before I left.
I really oughta call home some day... And yet, I got the feeling that they did not want to hear from me.
As I marched into the parking lot, I noticed that there were no other Pokemon around. I could sort of hear them in the distance, but the shit I could make out sounded like the Pokemon I had already seen. I felt that the Pokemon seemed weirdly concentrated near the center of the campus. Without any further incidents, I managed to make it to my car.
I quickly looked up the nearest laundromat. The nearest one was 4 minutes away. It was a perfectly short ride with no notable traffic problems. Exactly what I needed, or so I thought.
I tried to keep my eyes peeled for more Pokemon, but I didn't spot any. Some part of me felt confused by it. I knew that the college wasn't the best representation of a given population, but it felt like I should've seen at least one, even as a bird flying above, or the Gastly from earlier.
I pulled into a parking spot and popped my truck. I turned the engine off and then stepped out of the vehicle, quickly making my way to my trunk. I stared at what I had. My old Boy Scouts neckerchief didn't need to get washed, but my only other pair of pants and one pair of shorts definitely did, as did the balled up 8 or so shirts shoved in the corner, occluding my laptop. There was also the underwear underneath the pants which needed cleaning. I grabbed what was dirty, and with great difficulty hauled the giant ball of clothes in as one load.
I found that the laundromat was particularly busy with unattended machines, but to my luck, someone was already unloading their clothes from the washing machine, and though she'd take a dryer, another dryer was due to open up soon. I thanked the small reprieve before throwing my clothes in. I inserted one of my credit cards in-which one, I did not really pay attention to-and slipped it back into my pocket before settling down in a chair.
The woman left right after I had sat down, leaving me alone in near silence. The rumbling of the machines was the only thing to keep me company, and it wasn't nearly enough. I was all alone with my thoughts now.
I've really made a mess of things, honestly. A pilot's license, a life scout, child of two incredibly successful parents, one of whom who overcame greater adversity than I'd ever faced, near straight As with only a handful of Bs throughout my years, and where did that all lead me?
That was a lot to accomplish though...
As a roving nomad that has to find freelance code monkey work, and absolutely no energy to pursue my dreams. I never achieved A+s, let alone STRAIGHT As, I couldn't become an eagle scout, I failed to ever USE my pilot's license, and I struggled with finding gigs that would fund myself consistently, without fails.
Please... no...
I couldn't even wear the right shoes for the cold season, because the socks stimulate my elephant feet in the wrong way and good luck finding anything to fit that wasn't sandals anyways, and I was stuck addicted to pornography to stave off the loneliness that I so deserve!
My hands crept up to my face, rubbing my temples as these thoughts assaulted me. I really did not want to be here anymore.
And yet, I persist towards an unclear future.
STOP. Pain spiked up my thigh, my fist having come down hard near the center of my thigh. There was a brief moment of quiet, but it came back. It always did.
It begged the question, why do I persist?
STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP, STOP! Each subsequent hit in the same spot stung worse, and worse. There would be no second pause.
The anguish I endure, the pain I inflict upon others, what was there left to gain, let alone hope from-
I think I left my car unlocked!
I stood straight up and rushed out the door, with the determination of a man who had lost his family and was ready to die to achieve his grand revenge. Indeed, I had left my car unlocked, and the trunk open. It was a concern that a fenthead or something would try to steal something, but thankfully my crap was left alone. Even my notebook, my most valuable possession in more ways than one, had remained untouched. Hell, the druggies weren't even the biggest concern anymore. A Nickit or a Purrloin could've stolen something entirely off of instinct, and arguably done so more efficiently than a regular human.
I slammed the trunk shut, jiggling it to make sure that it wouldn't budge, and then limped over to the driver side door to make sure it was locked too. I decided to also attempt to lock the passenger side door that Matsui had been on, just to be safe. There was a concerning clicking noise as the key turned, the sensations of mechanisms moving to engage the lock chillingly felt. Was it unlocked this entire time? It had to have been this morning, I knew I hadn't left it unlocked and Matsui didn't leave through it while I was awake... A small amount of relief managed to percolate through my raging mind, now that I knew my vehicle was safe and had caught the door I hadn't managed to lock, but it didn't take long for the thoughts to bubble right back up.
I tried to distract myself with the news, thinking somehow that would work. It didn't, not because the news would've made me realize how inconsequential I was-though that thought raced into my head even before I opened my internet browser to try to undermine the distraction-but rather because I had forgotten I had no cell service to even CHECK the news with. There wasn't a wireless access point here, so there was absolutely nothing I could really do but sit and let the darkness consume me.
I thought about playing a game on my phone. I had a few games that could've worked for a distraction. Plants Vs. Zombies 2 and Umamusume were unfortunately off the table though, which left Jetpack Joyride, Plague and Rebel Inc., and my Android emulator. I had plenty of games to play on my emulator. I hadn't finished Final Fantasy 1 yet, and there was all the Pokemon games up to White 2. Hell, I hadn't played Command and Conquer 64 since I was a kid trying to make Mario machinimas, and if I didn't feel like playing a less convenient version of one of my favorite games, there was Star Craft 64, which I had never played before! Speaking of Mario, I had a ton of those on my phone too, already downloaded and ready to go, alongside the other classics like Zelda, Fire Emblem, Kirby, and Wave Race.
And yet, as I stared down my massive selection of totally legally acquired ROMs, I couldn't muster up the will to actually play them. All of those games just felt unfitting for the noise I needed. I thought about bringing my laptop out to play, but even my favorite comfort games like Factorio or Rimworld felt alien and uninspiring.
My phone slipped out of my hands as I once more held my head. The hammering against my skull, which had become a dull buzz, began to flare up again as my mind played Gish gallop with me. It was all so tiresome, but I didn't have the power to stop it, and rationality never seemed to work. I silently hoped that I was the only one who had to experience their self doubts to this degree of madness, even as my irrational side tried to downplay itself and claim that it wasn't remotely as bad as it could've been. My only recourse to this was to try to distract myself, but I had to find noisy ways to do so, because otherwise I wouldn't be able to at all. I did try though. I did various games with the people coming in and out, but the only real thing I managed to take away from that was that there were no Pokemon around.
And so, I sat there for a couple of hours, not even bothering to pick up my phone. My only action, other than existence within a cold and unwelcoming state of mind was unloading the washing machine so I could use the dryer. I knew deep down that stewing in this wasn't healthy, but it was very difficult. I was less than 4 minutes away from the place that managed to shatter what was left of me.
As soon as the dryer was done, I was out of there. I didn't bother folding my clothes, nor did I partake in their inviting warmth like I normally did. I didn't even throw it into the trunk, instead opting to limp no further than the driver side door and tossing the load to the back seat. My right leg ached, complaining to the rest of my nervous system as I pushed the gas and break pedals, trying to navigate this hellscape of a city. I thanked the gods I hadn't chosen to drive further south. If I were further south, in say, San Francisco, using my blinker would be a sign of weakness and functionally a giant "use me to cause an accident" sign. For what little it was worth, people actually respected your blinker, or at the very least, wouldn't attempt to intentionally cut you off in Sacramento.
As I drove, I began to hierarchize my needs. Near the top was getting the fuck out of this state. Realistically, I could've stayed here, but I really, really, really did not want to be stuck anywhere near here for the next 3 weeks that it would take for this god awful state of mind to blow over.
At minimum, to recover healthily, I needed to escape to the eastern country side, maybe near Edward's or something. The more ideal place would be the closest state, and I was already en route to it. I didn't have to adjust what direction I was going, as I-80 Reno would deliver me straight to my objective of another state. I'd just have to remember to fuel up every once in a while. Nevada may be barren and not my first choice, but I hoped that the Mojave desert would let my mind desert these treacherous thoughts.
I could faintly feel myself get slowly hypnotized by the freeway as I sunk deeper into my thoughts, becoming less aware by the second. That was okay though, so long as I-OH SHIT! I was about to merge right into a FUCKING SEMI! The tires squealed as I crushed the clutch pedal and smashed the brake. I swerved back into my lane, and eased off the pedals. Sweat coated my steering wheel as I clutched it, heart pounding. Fucking hell! What an adrenaline rush! Sorry Mr. Truck Driver! I had to wonder why the hell I always seemed to get lost in my own thoughts at the worst possible moments.
Jesus... fucking Christ. Auuugh. I needed some music, and preferably before the adrenaline crash happened.
I fished out a couple of USBs from my center console. There were several color coded flash drives in there, and I was looking for blue. It took me a few tries, tossing the ones I didn't want back in, but I finally found what I was looking for. Some groovy, fast paced music would keep me zoned in to the present, rather than buried in my own thoughts. I quietly realized in hindsight that I probably should've used the music I had stashed earlier when Matsui was with me in the car, rather than letting it stay silent, but this was the shit I wanted to BLAST out of my speakers. It felt rude to force a music selection that I had curated onto someone else, which was why Newgrounds.
I plugged the small drive into my aftermarket radio, and with a couple of button presses, it began to load. The flash drives were slow, cheap chink shit my mom gifted me, but they were just fast enough for the radio to load a song within a few seconds. I was never happier to hear someone shout "UNDERSTAND" at me. I cranked the Jet Set Radio soundtrack up, the speakers vibrating the entire car in an frankly addicting way, before my attention fully returned to the road.
The thumpin' beat made me feel like I was going to keep driving forever. Perhaps, I would.
Author's Note
Special thanks to Super Macho Mon for giving me incredibly detailed feedback. That was very much appreciated. Also a special thanks to everyone who's in the thread for being supportive and helping me through this.
Not much to say, this chapter is fucking enormous. I really hope that adding the last minute car drive helps alleviate the problem of "all rumination, nothing happening."
Now pardon me while I finish making that site. I haven't even started the HTML, I've been working on a page builder this entire damn time.
Word Count: 12,555
Edit: I forgot to write Matsui's interjection to being "forgotten." I've fixed that. Pre-edit WC: 12,263