Day 222

[from Pokémon: Shattered Crystal]

As I make my way back through Route 29, the sun begins to set. I'm soon accosted by a Pokémon I've never seen before: a Hoothoot. Armed with my Poké Balls, I decide to make an attempt to catch it. "Go, Firebrand!" I say, unleashing my companion.

Firebrand swiftly weakens the Hoothoot with two hard Tackles, and though the Hoothoot replies with a Tackle of its own, Firebrand shrugs it off like it's nothing. With the Hoothoot weakened, I quickly take a Poké Ball out of my backpack and throw it. It neatly encapsulates the Pokémon, shakes thrice, and is still. I have caught my first Pokémon, and in honour of having caught her at night, I decide to name her Dusk.

My new catch does not seem to like me at first, but after I feed her an Oran Berry to get her strength back up, she perks up a little and hoots with content. "Don't worry," I reassure her. "I'll take care of you. I promise." Before I can return Dusk to her Poké Ball, we're suddenly confronted by another Hoothoot. I quickly recall Dusk and send out Firebrand, who dispatches it with ease. Dusk will be weak, since she had little battle experience, so I'll want to try and avoid getting her into any serious fights just yet.

With Firebrand now at my side, we are not attacked again, and I reach Cherrygrove without further incident. Having received some allowance from my mother, I immediately head for the Pokémon Mart the old man had mentioned on my previous visit; some supplies will definitely come in handy for my journey. I buy some more Potions, and some medicine to cure my Pokémon if they ever get poisoned or paralyzed. These medicines could well save my Pokémon's lives, if I use them properly.

With much of my money now gone, I head out into Route 30. Once again I recall the old man's words to me: trainers will be battling their Pokémon out here. I beat Silva back at Cherrygrove, but somehow I'm still not entirely confident about my abilities. I grasp Firebrand's Poké Ball tightly in my hand. I guess I'm about to find out either way.

No sooner have I set foot in the tall grass than I am set upon by a Zubat. I see this as another potential catch, and send Firebrand back out to battle it. As the Zubat swoops down to strike, Firebrand dodges it and instead Tackles it, injuring one of its wings and forcing it to crash into the ground. I toss a Poké Ball at the wounded Zubat, expecting it to be caught like Dusk, but instead the Poké Ball smashes into pieces as the Pokémon breaks free.

The Zubat's struggling is in vain, however, for as it tries to swoop at Firebrand once more, Firebrand Tackles it again and this time pins it to the ground with a front paw. As the Zubat tries to break free, gnashing its jaws and screeching fruitlessly, I throw another Poké Ball and this time I am successful: the Pokémon is caught. It's a female like Dusk, and after a moment's thinking, I decide to call it Banshee, on account of its gender and shrill screeching. My party now numbers three.

Before I get a chance to heal Banshee, another Hoothoot attacks me and Firebrand is called into action once more. Once again Hoothoot fells it with little effort, but I start to worry that the constant fights will wear Firebrand down by the time I reach the trainers up ahead. He's the only Pokémon I really have that's fit for battle, and should he fall, I'll be all but helpless. I quickly feed Banshee and Firebrand some Berries to alleviate my concerns, then press on.

I'm not sure what to expect from the trainers on the route, but I probably wasn't expecting my first opponent to be a young schoolboy who looks about eight. As I pass by a tall patch of grass to my right, he ambushes me from my left. "Hey!" he says enthusiastically. "You look like a weak trainer! Come on, let's battle!"

Ordinarily, I'd be reluctant to battle a kid of this age, who might cry if I beat him too heavily. But the remark about me looking weak stings me. I decide to teach him a lesson. "Alright," I say. "Bring it on."

"Prepare yourself!" says the kid, grabbing what appears to be his only Poké Ball. "Go, Rattata!" The kid sends out his Rattata, which gnashes its teeth in a show of intimidation.

"Go, Firebrand!" Firebrand emerges from his Poké Ball and is almost immediately Tackled by the Rattata. Firebrand holds his own, responding with a Tackle of his own that seems to weaken the Pokémon considerably. The Rattata puts up a brave fight, but two more hits later and it's down.

The kid, who did indeed only have the one Pokémon, looks pretty upset about losing. "Darn it!" he exclaims. "I lost again! I knew I should have caught some more Pokémon before battling again!"

Feeling a little sorry for the kid, I decide to give him some advice. "It couldn't hurt to train your Rattata a little as well," I tell him. "Sometimes it's better to have one strong Pokémon than six weak ones."

The kid thinks this over for a moment. "Hey, yeah, you're right!" he says. "Maybe I don't need any other Pokémon in order to battle better! Maybe if I just stick with my Rattata, the two of us can get stronger together! Yeah, that's what I'll do! I'll stick with Rattata right to the end! Thanks for the advice, mister!"

That wasn't quite what I meant, but if it makes him feel better, then so be it. "Don't mention it," I say.

The kid thinks for another moment, then asks, "Say, can I get your phone number? Maybe we can train together sometime, and you can give me some more advice. Since we're both rookies, it'd be a good motivator. What do you say?"

I shrug. "Sure, why not?" I say.

"Thanks!" says the kid. We swap Pokégear numbers, and in the process I learn that the kid's name is Joey. "I'll ring you whenever I get the urge to battle!" he says.

"Go ahead," I say. "Alright, see you later, Joey."

The rest of the battles on the route turn out to be the same: schoolkids like Joey, with no real idea about how to train or battle their Pokémon. I brush them all aside, along with a wild Spinarak that ambushes me; as I progress, I start sending out Dusk against some of the weaker opponents, gradually building up her battle strength. I can't rely on Firebrand forever.

Before I know it, I'm on Route 31, and only a short distance away from Violet City. To the north I spot a cave entrance, but it looks pitch-black inside, and I decide not to enter for fear of getting ambushed or losing my way. Instead I make my way west, soon encountering another young trainer who battles me with four weak Bug Pokémon. Using Dusk and Firebrand, I defeat him with ease.

"Hey, you're good!" says the kid, after he's been defeated. "I like you! How about I share some of the Berries I find with you? If you give me your phone number, I can call you whenever I find some good Berries. Sound like a fair deal?"

"Yeah, sure," I say. It can't hurt to have more Berries, surely. I exchange phone numbers with the kid, whose name I learn is Wade, and continue on my way.

Not too far from where I battled Wade, I find a stray Poké Ball lying on the ground. I pick it up, but before I can put it away, I'm accosted by a wild Poliwag. Praising my luck, but wary of the type advantage it holds over Firebrand, I send out Dusk to battle it, intending to capture it. The Poliwag defends itself with a flurry of bubbles, but Dusk shrugs off the attacks and soon the Poliwag is weak enough for me to throw the Poké Ball I just picked up at it. It works, and I now have my fourth companion: I name him Dizzy, after his waddling gait and the spiral on his stomach.

Soon after catching Dizzy, I arrive in Violet City. It's now nightfall, and the streets around me are illuminated by bright lamps. It's too late to challenge the Gym Leader today, and in any case, I'm not sure whether my Pokémon are ready yet. I decide to first locate the city's Pokémon Center, to rest my weary Pokémon, then find a hotel and rest my weary self. Tomorrow, I'll prepare to take on the first Gym Leader: Falkner.

NEW COMPANION: DUSK THE HOOTHOOT (LVL.3, ROUTE 29)

NEW COMPANION: BANSHEE THE ZUBAT (LVL.3, ROUTE 30)

NEW COMPANION: DIZZY THE POLIWAG (LVL.4, ROUTE 31)

Day 221

[This is a short story called "Francorchamps", that I originally wrote for my GCSEs in 2010. It depicts the aborted first start of the 1998 Belgian Grand Prix, which took place on 30 August 1998. It it one of the most famous races in Formula One history.]

"Three lights... four lights... five lights..." Jarno could almost hear the unmistakeable voice of Murray Walker in his ear as he watched the lights go on. Or tried to. It was hard enough to see the lights from thirteenth on the grid as it was, but in the torrential rain, with your crash helmet on? It was almost impossible.

But, "GO!!!" ...suddenly the lights were off, and in an instant the twenty-one other cars assembled around him sprang into life with a deafening scream. Time for the fun to begin. The start was just like the twelve others he had contested that year, and the fourteen he'd contested the year before. Swerve to the left, onto the racing line. Flick the paddle behind the steering wheel; up into second gear. Make sure you don't slam straight into Wurz in front of you. Check your mirrors; check Barrichello's still behind you. Now look to the left again; look for the brake markers. There they are. BRAKE!

Round the La Source hairpin. A tricky enough corner in the dry. Thankfully it wasn't far from the start line, so the cars hadn't gotten up to speed yet. A car dived down the inside: Barrichello had gotten the better of him. No matter. He had passed two cars already, and was right on the tail of a third. He stamped hard on the accelerator; back up to second; now up to third; now they were away, down the long straight up to Eau Rouge. The most famous corner in Formula One.

Jarno swerved to the left, cutting off a car behind him; he immediately cut to the right to avoid touching the back of the car in front. It was a Sauber - or was it a Benetton? It was impossible to tell through the heavy spray flying up from the back of the car, and from the cars all around him. One could scarcely see one's own hand in front of their face.

Ahead of him, something briefly registered in Jarno's vision: a flurry of spray, a flash of white paint. Had someone spun? Jarno couldn't tell. It may not even have been a car for all he could see. Through the spray, the flash of paint looked almost fish-shaped, though of course it couldn't have been a fish, even though it was wet enough for one to survive here...

SLAM. What had happened registered immediately: Jarno had suffered a lapse in concentration and hit the car in front of him. With the sudden deceleration, everything seemed to lapse into slow-motion; even the rain seemed to shudder to a temporary crawl. There was an instant of silence, broken sharply by another loud bang and a furious jolt, as another car slammed straight into the back of Jarno's stricken car, having presumably been unsighted by the spray.

As his car slowly slid to a halt, Jarno sat quietly, trying to come to terms with things. His race was likely far from over; since he'd seemingly crashed in the middle of a straight, and on the first lap, the race would probably be red-flagged and restarted, giving him a second chance with the spare car. However, Jarno was still worried about the effect the crash might have on his reputation in the sport. This was his sophomore year in Formula 1, and he'd retired from more than half the races so far, having scored no points. He knew that if he carried on like this, this season could well be his last.

Now for the disheartening, though mercifully short walk back to the pit lane. Jarno unscrewed the steering wheel, and placed it where he knew the car's nose cone would be; he could still barely see it through the driving rain. Then he got out of the car, took one step and felt his leg kick something. He looked down: it appeared to be a tyre. Free from its carbon-fibre master, it had been merrily rolling across the deserted track as tumbleweed does across desert.

But was it deserted? The tyre couldn't possibly have come from his car. Jarno knew that at least two other cars had been involved in the collision, and he started to wonder how many others had been. He pulled off his helmet, increasing his visibility, though only slightly as it was still hard to see through the driving rain. Even so, it was just enough for him to make out the carnage that had unfolded around him.

The tarmac around him was littered with stricken cars. At least a dozen of them, all crowded together, having apparently crashed into one another. The floor was strewn with shards of carbon fibre, winking white and blue and red through the grey gloom, and scores of wheels like the one he had just kicked were barrelling from the scene like escaped cattle broken free from their ranch. It appeared that somebody had run wide and spun onto the racing line - the flash of paint that Jarno had spotted - and everyone behind them had simply ploughed unsighted into the melee, systematically eliminating almost every car behind a certain point on the track. And all around him, the other drivers were getting out of their cars, taking off their helmets, and awakening to the same nightmare.

Jarno clambered his way through the chaos, the stricken cars, and approached a marshal, who to his relief was frantically waving a red flag. "What the hell happened?" he asked the marshal.

"I'm not sure," replied the marshal, in a slight French accent. "I see Coulthard spin, over there somewhere-" he gesticulated wildly at an area a few yards behind Jarno's stricken car "-I think somebody hit him, and then the next thing I know, all the cars are piled up together like this, sliding along the track..." The marshal sighed heavily. "It'll be a miracle if nobody was hurt."

A tap on the shoulder. Jarno turned round to see his team-mate, Olivier Panis, still wearing his helmet but with the visor raised. Even without seeing his face, Jarno could tell from his team-mate's body language that he was a little shaken. "You'll be needing that for the restart," he said, gesturing at Jarno's crash helmet.

Jarno nodded and was about to put it on when he hesitated. "What about you?" he asked.

"I got taken out too," replied Olivier, "and there's only one spare car. You're the lead driver, so..." He shrugged disappointedly. "I'll have to just watch from the garage."

Jarno gave his team-mate a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, man," he said.

"No need to apologize," said Olivier. "This is not your fault. I…" Olivier turned round to take another look at the scene, them muttered something in French that Jarno didn't catch. "Twenty years I've been racing, and I've never seen anything like this before. Do you think everyone's alright?"

"I don't know," said Jarno. "There's an awful lot of debris around. I sure hope so, though."

"Me too," said Olivier. "Good luck in the restart."

As Olivier made his way back to the pits, Jarno surveyed the carnage once more. Not just the Minardis and Tyrrells had been taken out, but a Ferrari and a Benetton as well. World Champions and backmarkers, household names and debutantes, all levelled in a single moment, one wrong turn of the steering wheel. He glanced again at his departing team-mate, gazing regretfully at his wrecked car as he passed it. He looked over at the marshals, now picking up the pieces: clearing away the reams of debris, rolling the severed tyres out of the way, and pushing the cars' shattered remains to one side so they could be recovered. Then he looked behind him, and saw David Coulthard, seemingly the instigator of this whole affair, walking dejectedly back towards the pits to claim his spare car, his helmet still on, the raindrops bouncing off it. Trying to come to terms with it all.

Jarno sighed, then started to meander his way back through the destruction, past the broken pieces of carbon fibre that still carpeted the ground. He passed a marshal wheeling his car towards the barriers, to be picked up by a crane and taken away, and for a moment it seemed to Jarno that he was hauling a battered body across a bomb site, ready to be thrown into an ambulance and driven to the morgue. The destruction around him certainly would not have looked out of place at a bomb site. Then he was back in the pit lane, joining the dozen other drivers marching through the monsoon, some still helmeted, some dragging their crash helmets behind them, as though the storm had washed away their homes and they were now hauling their belongings through the driving rain, soaked through, searching for refuge.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: After the restart, Jarno Trulli went on to finish 6th, claiming his and Prost's only point of the season. Eddie Irvine and Rubens Barrichello had suffered minor injuries in the crash - Barrichello did not take the restart - but nobody was seriously hurt. The race was won by Damon Hill, the first-ever victory for his Jordan team but the final win of Hill's career.]

[IMPORTANT] Vote for your favourite project from Project 20:15!

Project 20:15 has been a great success across the board. I've made a fantastic amount of progress on many of my projects and gotten a fair amount of feedback. I'd like to try and continue writing daily from next year onwards, but my time might be better spent working on a few projects at a time, rather than trying to balance all 30+ at once. And if I'm working on something nobody cares about, then it's a waste of everyone's time.

So this is a VERY important poll. It's a simple question: which projects would you like me to continue working on next year? There are a few projects, such as StarLight and Electron, that I intend to continue working on anyway, but I wanna know what you guys want to see. I wanna know what's popular here. You'll be able to vote right up until December 31st, and you can vote for as many projects as you want (but you can only vote once, hopefully, so make it count!)

Without further ado, here is the link: http://www.poll-maker.com/poll400469x04eD421C-15 If you've been following Project 20:15 at all, even just one or two projects, please vote. Feedback is very important to me.

Day 220

[from StarLight]

The strange black blob in the distance turned out to be exactly that: a black gelatinous blob about twelve feet in diameter, with no discernible features. As it rolled through the streets it engulfed everything in its path, mostly just parked cars. Fortunately for the city's residents, the blob creature only seemed to travel at about walking pace, and so everyone in the vicinity was easily able to outrun it, although what exactly would happen if it did engulf them was unclear. The vehicles absorbed into its mass merely hung suspended inside it, slowly tumbling end over end.

As White Star soared above the streets full of fleeing pedestrians, their heads turned skywards and their panic dissipated. "Go, White Star!" cried one businessman, raising a fist that was still holding his briefcase. "Destroy that blob!"

White Star looked rather bemused at the sight of the monster. "A giant blob?" she remarked. "Really? Don't tell me the writer's run out of monster ideas already? What's next, a floating blue octahedron? More to the point, where's its weak spot?" White Star start to fly in circles around the blob, trying to find some point on its gelatinous surface that was perhaps weaker, but it was no use; it was identical from all angles, save for the accumulation of cars and debris now building up inside it. With each item it absorbed its size increased slightly; it had grown perhaps three or four feet since it had first appeared downtown.

"It's no use," conceded White Star after her dozenth circuit, "this thing doesn't have any weak spots. Plus I'm getting dizzy, and I still need to say my catchphrase." She stopped for a moment, her head still spinning, heavily disoriented. She shook her head to clear it, focusing on the task at hand, then pointed her wand directly at the creature, assuming her signature pose. "Time to let the light of justice shine!" she cried, to cheers from the crowd below. "Meteor Shower!"

Star-shaped energy projectiles burst forth from the end of the wand, smashing into the creature at high speed. All they managed to do was push it backwards and send shockwave ripples across its gelatinous surface; no other damage was visible. The creature continued to take in debris, growing ever larger.

White Star pouted. "How are you supposed to damage something like this?" she moaned. Sighing, she thought for a moment. There had to be something the creature was weak against. Something that would damage its gelatinous structure. If not her energy attacks, then what?

White Star raised her wand high. "THUNDER STRIKE!" she cried. High above, dark clouds formed and hovered ominously over the black blob. A rumble sounded from deep within them, and then with a loud boom a thunderbolt burst forth from the heavens... and struck an antenna on the roof of a nearby skyscraper, dissipating harmlessly.

White Star was shocked that the monster hadn't been shocked. "WHAT?! How does that even..." She looked on in disbelief for a moment, then sighed, exasperated, and sought out the White Star Fan Club in the crowd below. Fortunately, it seemed they had arrived this time; Hitomi had even brought a tub of popcorn. "Hi, White Star!" said Hitomi excitedly. "We're your biggest fans!"

"I know," said White Star. "I, uhh.. heard about you on the Internet."

"See, I told you the Blagger page would work!" said Hitomi.

White Star turned to Mio. "Mio, you're the smart one, right?" she asked. "Why didn't that lightning attack work?"

"Well, you see," said Mio, adjusting her glasses (which she had dried and cleaned earlier), "electricity, when projected in the form of, say, a bolt of lightning, will automatically arc towards the nearest conductive surface. In a battle against Black Star a thousand feet above the city's rooftops, this surface will invariably be Black Star herself, but at street level the tops of the buildings will be much closer than whatever you happen to be targeting, rendering the attack ineffective. Additionally, judging from the monster's appearance and gelatinous properties, it's fair to assume that it wouldn't conduct electricity anyway."

About half of this lengthy explanation had gone over White Star's head, but she got the gist. "So... Thunder Strike won't work on monsters on the ground?"

"Precisely," said Mio. "However, there should be some method of breaking down the monster's gelatinous structure and effectively dissolving it."

White Star nodded. "Dissolve the monster. Got it. Anything else?"

"Umm... could you dry our clothes, please?" asked Mio. "We didn't get a chance while we were at school." It occurred to White Star that she was the one responsible for soaking the other Fan Club members in the first place; ironic that she was now being asked to dry them.

"Okay, fine," said White Star, and conjuring a flame at the end of her wand, she began heating the girls' clothes and evaporating the water still left on them.

"Ahh… that's nice and warm~" said Hitomi, holding her hands out towards the flame to warm them up. "It's a shame Sanae couldn't be here to get dried off; she's missing the battle again!"

"I'm sure she's watching it from somewhere," said White Star.

The girls gathered round the flame, and within moments their clothes were nice and dry. "Thanks, White Star," said Nagisa. "Sorry to distract you from kicking that monster's ass."

"Don't worry about it!" said White Star. "And you're welcome!" With that, she flew off above the crowd again. She now had an idea for how to defeat the blob, based on what Mio had told her. But first, she needed something. Scanning the crowd, she quickly found what she was looking for; another high school student, still clutching their Chekhov water gun as they watched the blob's steady, relentless advance. White Star promptly swooped down in front of the student. "Hey, can I borrow this?" she asked, indicating the water gun.

"Uh, sure," said the bemused student, handing it over. "Go nuts."

"Thanks." White Star flew back over to the monster, water gun gripped tightly in her hand. "Alright, Mister Blob," she smirked, raising the gun's barrel, "prepare to be dissolved!"

White Star pulled the trigger, firing a stream of water at the blob. What she expected to happen was that it would dissolve, the water melting it like the Wicked Witch of the West. What actually happened was that the stream of water was simply absorbed into the blob, causing it to swell another few inches in diameter. White Star quickly released the trigger and lowered the gun, feeling quite annoyed with herself for her faulty logic.

"Whoops," said White Star feebly. "I guess Chekhov's guns don't work on this thing."

The blob continued on its way, every car in its path being sucked into its gelatinous form and hanging there, suspended like a fly trapped in amber. One driver who had somehow not heard about the chaos found himself driving directly into the blob's path; he braked hard, scrambled out of his seat and fled to the safety of a nearby cafe just in time to see his van get sucked into the advancing blob. By now the creature was so large it filled the entire street, its form pressingly slightly against the windows of the buildings on either side to the horror of those within. If it grew much bigger it would press against the buildings with enough force to do some serious damage to them. It was now or never.

White Star's brain worked overtime to try and process the additional information she had learned, and what little she had bothered learning in science class. The creature absorbed water; water made it grow larger. That meant it had to be largely made up of water. In fact, looking at it now White Star was almost reminded of the water balloons she had carried earlier that day, all round and squishy and full of water, except those had been easier to break. The plan clicked into place all too soon. It was remarkably simple, if equally stupid.

"Okay," declared White Star, "I know how to defeat the monster now! This next attack will end it!"

"You said that the last time!" shouted a sceptical man from the crowd, to laughs from those around him. White Star was somewhat grateful for the interruption, as it gave her additional time to come up with a name for the attack she was about to perform.

White Star swung the wand dramatically, posing with her arms swept behind her. "Finishing Move: Phoenix Strike!" Her wand was again engulfed in magical flame, and this time the flames spread across her entire body, burning with an intense heat that at the same time did not harm her. Pointing herself towards the still-advancing blob, White Star then swooped down, leaving a blazing trail behind her, and plunged straight into the gelatinous foe.

"She dived straight into it!" exclaimed an astonished onlooker, rather needlessly.

"Is she insane?" cried another.

"This is going straight on FooTube!" exclaimed a third, who was filming the whole thing on his cellphone.

Immediately, however, White Star's crazy yet simple plan began to take effect. As she had correctly deduced, the blob was largely made of water, and as the intense heat from her flames entered its body it began to evaporate. A dark cloud of steam rose up from the blob as it boiled away, gradually shrinking until there was nothing left but its Black Heart and the objects inside it, which one by one dropped harmlessly to the ground. The owner of the van rushed forwards to hug his reclaimed vehicle, only to be repelled by the heat that had been conducted by its metal surface.

As the last remnants of the blob evaporated away, White Star was left hovering in the air where the centre of the blob had been just moments before, clutching the fallen Black Heart in her hand. As the watching crowd processed what had happened, a mighty cheer began to rise up. "White Star's saved us again!" crowed one onlooker.

White Star smirked. "Well, it looks like that monster…" She pulled a pair of sunglasses from nowhere and put them on. "…couldn't take the heat."

***

To Sanae's annoyance, she found that when she changed back into her normal form, her school uniform was still wet. She had therefore had to trudge home with soggy shoes, a translucent shirt, and a rather uncomfortable breeze in a rather uncomfortable place. Needless to say, she and the other Mitsuzawa students had gotten a lot of stares. Sanae had never been more relieved to get through her front door.

"Finally," she sighed, as she slipped off her wet shoes. "I can dry myself off, get out of these wet clothes, and relax. Man, this day really didn't go as well as I'd hoped... but at least now everything's okay-"

The moment Sanae entered her room, she realized that she had spoken too soon. Kousen was stood at her desk, her expression an odd mixture of guilt and - unbelievably - panic. Sanae had never seen her youkai companion scared before. She quickly realized the reason for Kousen's fear: her laptop had blue-screened. "Kousen," she said in a wary tone, "what happened to my laptop...?"

"I-I don't know," said Kousen. "Someone on the In-Turn-It said that I could make your laptop run faster by deleting something called System32, but I did it and now-"

"Kousen, that was a prank!" said Sanae, indignant. "Computers need System32 to function! Now you've broken it!" Sanae muscled her way to the desk and stared in horror at her broken machine before turning to lecture her familiar. "You shouldn't believe everything you read on the Internet! There are people on there that are trying to trick you!"

"So you mean that gender really isn't a social construct?" asked Kousen. "And that that singing man really will give me up?"

Sanae facepalmed. "Please tell me you didn't fall for anything else," she said.

"No," said Kousen, "but this will cheer you up! While I was searching for Black Star using the magic Moogle, a website told me I was their one millionth visitor and that I'd won a special prize! All I had to do was give them your credit card number and-"

Kousen was cut off by the sound of Sanae repeatedly and violently slamming her head against the desk. "Is something the matter, Sanae?" asked Kousen. "Was it something I said?"

Day 219

[from Vanishing Point]

To the group's surprise, the entrance to Studio C appeared to be unguarded. "Shouldn’t there be some security guards around, or something?" asked Kiyoko.

"I'm guessing they're all inside, enjoying the party," said Kamui. "We should be okay, as long as we blend in and don't draw too much attention to ourselves."

"And how do we blend in?" asked Hanako.

"Just keep quiet until we get to Mizuki," said Cobra.

"Can do!" said Hanako.

The group made their way inside, glancing up at the banner hanging from the ceiling as they entered. The studio was extremely large and spacious, and although the party was large enough for at least a hundred people, it seemed to fill barely half of the available space. Kiyoko gasped in awe at the sheer size of the building. "It's enormous!" she exclaimed.

"It certainly is," said Kamui.

"How are we ever going to find Mizuki among all these people?" asked Kiyoko.

"Simple!" said Hanako. "She's a mega-star, so wherever she is, people will be gravitating towards her. We won't have to look too hard, trust me!"

"Well, you're the Mizuki expert here," said Kamui. "We'll go with that. Alright, so, where does everyone seem to be gathering…?"

Kamui started to scan the crowd, looking for an area where a significant group of people were congregated. Just as Hanako had promised, he found it within seconds: over at the drinks table, where a crowd of at least a dozen people had gathered around. In the centre of the crowd of Mizuki herself, a mug of beer raised to her lips as she eagerly gulped down the contents. "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" the crowd chanted, egging her on.

Within seconds the mug had been completely drained, and a victorious Mizuki let out a satisfied gasp and slammed the mug back down on the table. "Oh man, that really hit the spot!" she exclaimed.

While Hanako was ecstatic to finally see her idol in the flesh, the beer-chugging woman standing before them was not what the others had expected. "That's Mizuki Sato?" said Cobra.

"Yep!" said Hanako. "She might not act like your typical idol, but that's part of what makes her so great! Instead of being this unreachable goddess, she's just a normal, down-to-earth person that you can really relate to! But at the same time, she's still extremely pretty, and an amazing singer and actress!"

"You know, I'm starting to like her a little more," said Cobra, as Mizuki started pouring another beer.

"Well, shall we get talking to her?" asked Kamui.

"Hold it right there, you four!" The group froze, then slowly turned around to see a security guard standing behind them, a slice of Hawaiian pizza in one hand and a nightstick in the other. "You're not on the entry list," the guard said.

"What entry list?" asked Kamui. "We weren't told there was an entry list."

"There is," said the guard. "It consists of everyone working at the studio, and you guys are definitely not studio employees. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"But we wanna talk to Mizuki-tan!" insisted Hanako.

"That's right," said Kamui. "We're private detectives-"

"I don't care!" said the security guard. "No unauthorized personnel are allowed to talk to Miss Sato. If you don't leave now, I'm going to have to-"

"What's going on over here?" By now, the stand-off had attracted the attention of many of the partygoers, including Mizuki herself, who had presently made her way over to investigate. Hanako's eyes shone with glee at the sight of her heroine up close; the others merely continued to look concerned.

"Ah, Mizuki," said the guard, turning his attention to the idol. "I caught these four interlopers trying to crash the party. They must be obsessed fans of yours or something."

"They don't look that obsessed to me," said Mizuki. "Even this girl here looks like she's just after an autograph," she added, jabbing a thumb at Hanako.

"But Mizuki-" insisted the guard.

"But nothing," said Mizuki. "It's my party, right? I should get the final say in who stays and who goes, and I say we should let them stay. For now, anyway. If they turn out to be some kind of danger, I can always just call you back over to boot 'em out, right?"

The security guard looked as though he wanted to object further, but instead he merely heaved a sigh and gave up. "Alright, fine," he said, holstering his nightstick. "But I'll be keeping an eye on your four, to make sure there's no funny business!" The guard made an "I'm watching you" motion with his free hand, to emphasize the point, then took a bite of his pizza and headed off on his way. "Hey, this is pretty good pizza…" he muttered to himself as he vanished into the crowd.

"Sorry about that," said Mizuki, turning back to the group. "Ever since I went missing that one time, the security guys here have been pretty paranoid about my safety. It's silly, if you ask me. I mean, what are the chances of it happening a second time, right?" She took a large swig from her mug of beer, let out another contented gasp and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "So anyway," she said, "what can I do for you guys?"

Kamui stepped forward, taking charge. "We're here to-" he began, before Hanako promptly shoved him out of the way.

"CANIHAVEYOURAUTOGRAPH?!" asked Hanako excitedly, holding out the scrap of paper Kamui had given her.

Mizuki chuckled, the remaining beer sloshing dangerously in the mug. "Sure!" she said. "Give me a second." She put down the mug, fished a pen out of her breast pocket, and took the sheet of paper from Hanako, resting it on the table. "Who am I making this out to?" she asked.

"Hanako Kobayashi," said Hanako. "I'd say I'm your biggest fan, but that sounds kinda stalker-ish, doesn't it?"

"Trust me, I've seen worse," said Mizuki. "'To Hanako Kobayashi… best wishes for the future… love, Mizuki Emerald Sato'." With a grin, she handed the autograph to Hanako. "Here you go~"

Hanako let out a squeal of joy and took the autograph. "Thank you!" she said. "I'll treasure it forever!" Folding it neatly, she put it away in her breast pocket for safekeeping.

Kamui looked a little annoyed at having been interrupted by Hanako for such a banal reason. "If you're done bugging her," he said, "let's get on to the real reason we're here. Miss Sato, m name is Kamui Matsuda. I'm a private detective. These are my associates, Kiyoko, Hanako, and Cobra. We'd like to talk to you in relation to your disappearance. We have some new information we think you might like to know about, as well as some questions we'd like answers to."

This piqued Mizuki's interest. "Is that so?" she asked. "So, does that mean you know what happened to me? Like, the gap in my memories… you can fill that in for me?"

"Gap in your memories?" repeated Cobra.

"Yeah," said Mizuki. "I can remember everything up until the night I went missing, but… after that it's all a big blur. The next thing I remember clearly is suddenly standing in the middle of Akihabara, with no idea who I was or how I got there."

"That must have been pretty frightening," said Kamui.

"Yeah, especially when your face is plastered all over the billboards," said Mizuki. "So anyway, what is this 'new info' you have to discuss with me?"

"Could we go somewhere a little more private first?" asked Kamui. "Or at least, a little more quiet."

"Sure," said Mizuki. "Follow me."

Mizuki drained the rest of her mug, then headed off with the others in tow. Despite having just downed two mugs of beer in the space of minutes, she barely seemed drunk at all, and was still able to walk perfectly normally. She led the group to the back of one of the sets, where the noise from the party was much quieter, and casually leaned back against the cardboard wall. "So," she said, "what do you wanna know?"

Day 218

[from Pokémon xTreme]

The following morning, Brandon arrived at Taylor's house as usual to resume training, but this time he had Emma in tow. "She insisted on coming along with us," said Brandon. "I figured, if we're gonna end up getting married or whatever like Nicole wants us to, I'd better start getting to know her, right? So I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," said Taylor. "To be honest, I'm glad you're doing the right thing and supporting her."

"Well, it's not like I have a choice, is it?" said Brandon. "If I don't, Nicole will turn me into smoked Tepig."

"True," admitted Taylor. "So anyway, where are we headed today?"

"Next Gym Leader on the trail is Lisa Rivers," said Brandon. "She's the Cerulean City Gym Leader, and she uses Water-type Pokémon. She's a veteran like Graham, she's been a Gym Leader for years, but she's not as outspoken as he is. She'll prefer to just focus on the battle. You won't have a type advantage this time, unless we're lucky enough to run into a Paras in Mt. Moon, so things might get a little more difficult for you."

"I'm sure I can handle it," said Taylor. "If it comes to it, we can always look for a Grass-type Pokémon somewhere else, right?"

"If it really comes to it, I can just lend you one of mine," said Brandon, "or get Ellen to breed you one. But there'd be no challenge in it if I just gave you Pokémon all the time. I'd rather you tried to get through it with your own skill first. You get what I mean?"

"Yeah, I got it," said Taylor, nodding. "I'd rather get through it with my own skill as well."

"That's good," said Brandon. "Alright then, let's get going. I think Emma's starting to get a little bored."

Emma did indeed look a little bored as Brandon took out the Poké Ball containing Charizard. Perhaps it was Taylor's imagination, but she also seemed a tiny bit jealous as well. It was perhaps understandable: Brandon had ignoring his supposed fiancée up until now, having been talking to his protégé instead the whole time they had been here. But Taylor, somehow, didn't think it was entirely reasonable. They had already established that Brandon had no feelings for her, not to mention she was underage. Then again, Taylor got the feeling that Brandon didn't really love Emma all that much either. If it wasn't for Nicole calling him back to Viridian, he would most likely have forgotten all about her.

As Charizard emerged from its Poké Ball, a thought occurred to Taylor. "Are all three of us gonna fit on there?" she asked.

"Uhh… good point," said Brandon. "No, I don't think we will. You won't be able to fly by yourself, will you, Taylor?"

Taylor shook her head. "Nope," she said. "And I'm still a little rattled from the previous times I've flown with you."

"And I can't fly with you, because that would mean leaving Emma all by herself…" Brandon thought aloud. "Hmm… Emma, do you have any Flying-types?"

"I have a Crobat," said Emma, plucking a Poké Ball from her belt.

"Great," said Brandon. "I'll fly on that, and you can fly Taylor there on Charizard."

"But I wanna fly there with you!" protested Emma, pouting cutely.

"Sorry," said Brandon, "but Taylor can't fly on her own. She needs someone to go with her, and you'd only complain if I went with her." This seemed to confirm Taylor's suspicions: Emma was, to some degree, irrationally jealous of her.

Emma did not refute Brandon's statement, instead merely sighing in resignation. "I guess it can't be helped, then," she said. "I mean, it's not like we're not going to the same place…"

"Yeah, we'll only be apart for, like, twenty minutes, or however long it takes to get to Mt. Moon," said Brandon, gently patting her head. "No biggie."

"Alright then," said Emma. "I guess I'll see you in a bit." She leaned up and gave Brandon a goodbye kiss on the lips, then climbed onto the back of Charizard.

Taylor climbed on behind her, still a little uneasy about flying. "You sure you know what you're doing?" she asked Emma.

"This isn't the first time I've flown," she said. "Just relax, everything will be fine."

"Just… no racing, okay?" said Taylor. "I couldn't take another race."

"Don't worry, Taylor," said Brandon reassuringly, "no races today. We're just gonna fly to Mt. Moon at our own pace. Emma, make sure to take it easy, alright?"

Emma nodded. "Will do," she said.

Brandon took off first, and as he and Crobat lifted off into the sky, Taylor suddenly got the uneasy feeling that Emma was not going to take it easy at all. Sure enough, Charizard suddenly lifted off hard, soaring high into the sky as it raced to catch up to Crobat. Taylor clung tightly onto Emma, grimacing as the uncomfortable sensation of the cold wind whipping at her face returned once more. Even if the flight to Mt. Moon was only twenty minutes as Brandon had said, this was still going to be a long ride.

Day 217

[from Aishiteru! Hikikomori-san]

Yuuichi was startled to hear a knock on his door. He hadn't ordered anything recently, and he wasn't expecting company, so he had no idea who it could be. I guess there's only two people it could be, he thought to himself. One is Hiroto, but then he'd usually just Skype me. Which means it's most likely- The colour suddenly drained from Yuuichi's face as he realized something terrible: he had never told his parents about Ilana. With a rising sense of dread, he opened the front door.

Sure enough, there was his mother, smiling at him from the threshold. Though she was in her mid-forties by now, she still looked reasonably youthful, except for the grey streaks that were starting to appear in her long brown hair. "Hi, sweetie!" she said.

With his worst fears confirmed, Yuuichi went into panic mode. Unsure how to tell his mother about his mail-order bride, who was currently cleaning the bedroom, Yuuichi decided to simply keep it quiet and try and get his mother away as soon as possible. "Wh-what are you doing here, mom?" he asked.

"I just thought I'd pop by and see how you were doing," said Yuuichi's mother. "There's nothing wrong with that, is there? You are my son, after all."

"Well, yeah," conceded Yuuichi, "b-but you see, I'm kinda busy at the moment, so-"

"Oh?" said Yuuichi's mother, amused. "Busy doing what, playing games? Watching anime? Talking to your Internet friends?" This was partly why Yuuichi disliked his mother coming to visit him: she always made snarky comments about his inactivity, and they was always right. "Or could it be that you've finally got a lady over?" she added teasingly. "Wouldn't that be something!"

"Oh, no," said Yuuichi nervously, "I don't have anyone like that over-"

Before Yuuichi could finish, Ilana, who hadn't cottoned on to the fact she was supposed to be hiding, burst out of the bedroom with a feather duster in her hand and a cheerful smile on her face. "Hello!" she said, waving. "You must be mother of Yuuichi! I am Ilana, wife of Yuuichi. Is good to meet you!"

Yuuichi froze, rigid with shock. His mother's expression also froze, as she tried to process what had just happened. Slowly, her head turned to face Ilana. "W… wi… fe?" she repeated. As the revelation sank in, she turned back to Yuuichi, pointing a shaking hand at Ilana. "Yuuichi… i-is this woman really…?"

A bead of sweat ran down Yuuichi's brow. His plan to hide Ilana from his mother had been shattered, and he would never be able to lie his way out of it now. He heaved a defeated sigh and looked away, embarrassed. "Well… n-not yet, but… she will be, I guess-"

Yuuichi's mother suddenly let out a loud squeal of joy, causing her son to jump into the air with fright. A look of sheer ecstasy passed across her face, her eyes shining with joy. "I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "My son is actually getting married! I never thought this day would ever come! And to such a beautiful woman!" She rushed over to Ilana, seizing her by the wrists and sizing her up with glee. "Tell me everything!" she gushed, her words coming out at light-speed. "How did you two meet? How long have you known each other? Was it love at first sight? Did you meet online? When are you planning to hold the ceremony? How far have you two gone in the bedroom? Are you already pregnant? Are those your real breasts? Tell me, what attracted you to my son-?"

"Mom, please," said Yuuichi, already looking exhausted. "Cut it out, you're bugging her."

Yuuichi's mother immediately turned her attention back to her son. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting married to such a beautiful young woman?!" she asked. "This is the greatest thing to happen since you left high school!"

"I didn't tell you because I know you'd overreact like this!" said Yuuichi. "And also I kind of forgot a little," he added sheepishly.

"It's fantastic, though!" said Yuuichi's mother. "Not only are you getting married, but to such an unbelievable catch! How on earth did you manage to hook her?!"

Wow, thanks for the confidence boost, mom, thought Yuuichi. "Well, the truth is," he said, "she's actually a mail-order bride. Oh, but I didn't buy her, it was Hiroto, he thought it would give me more responsibilities or something… huh?"

Yuuichi's mother had suddenly vanished. Heading out into the hallway, Yuuichi saw her pounding frantically on the door of Hiroto's apartment. Hiroto answered the door with a sigh. "What do you w-" he began.

Before he could finish, Yuuichi's mother let out another squeal of delight and seized Hiroto in a tight hug, spinning him around with glee. "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!" she gushed. "I was starting to dread that my son would never get a girlfriend, but you went out of your way to fix him up with one! Oh, thank you so much, Hiroto! You're the best friend a son could ever have!"

"Th-thank you, Mrs. Yuuichi's mom," said Hiroto, rattled, "but could you let go of me please? You're crushing me."

"I'm sorry, but I'm just so excited about this!" said Yuuichi's mother, releasing Hiroto. "My son's never had a girlfriend before in his life, and he probably hasn't even talked to a girl in the last three years, but now he's getting married! It's every mother's dream to see her son walk down the aisle! Oh, I'm so happy I could cry!"

"Please, mom, stop," said Yuuichi, his face now bright red. "You're making way too much of a big deal out of this."

"But isn't it great?" his mother said. "You're finally doing something with your life! Oh, right! Does this mean you're going to get a job now? You'll need a steady income in order to support your new wife!"

"She's not my wife yet!" Yuuichi repeated. "And I already have a job! I'm working in a local call center."

Yuuichi's mother looked as though all her birthdays had come at once. "You even have a job now?!" she exclaimed. "That's amazing! This time a year ago you wouldn't even have considered getting a job!" She rushed back to Ilana, seizing her hands once more. "I really can't thank you enough, Ilana!" she said. "You've completely changed my son for the better! I don't know what would have become of him if you hadn't come along!"

Ilana looked completely overwhelmed by what was happening. She turned to face Yuuichi as though begging for help. "She talk too fast," she said, "I understand her not."

"Sorry, sorry, you're completely right!" said Yuuichi's mom, in the exact same enthusiastic manner as before. "I should have known you might have trouble understanding me! I mean, you're not from Japan, right?" She cleared her throat and then, to Yuuichi's horror, started speaking in a very slow, clear manner, accompanying her words with gestures, as one might when talking to a simpleton. "I. Am. Happy. For. You. You. Make. My. Son. Not. Lazy. He. Is. Lucky. To. Have. You."

"Now she talk like idiot," said Ilana, glancing at Yuuichi with a bemused expression. "I am confused."

"Mom, please!" said Yuuichi. "She's not an idiot! She just can't understand you because you're talking at 200 words a minute!"

"That's. Why. I'm. Talking. Slower. Now!" said Yuuichi's mom.

Yuuichi sighed and brought his hand up to his forehead. "This is gonna be a long day…" he muttered to himself.

Day 216

[from Street Racer]

Tristan held off on unleashing the Skyline's true power until they had cleared the abandoned railyard and were back out on the open road. "Okay, traffic's sparse, weather's good… you picked a good night for your first taste of speed," Tristan remarked. "Alright, here goes." With a loud roar, the Skyline began to rapidly accelerate down the high street, and Lien felt herself pushed back into her seat by the sudden G-forces. She wanted to look over at the speedometer, to see just how fast they were really going, but she could not tear her gaze away from the view through the windscreen, as the cars in front of them began to get closer and closer, moving faster and faster.

Tristan, naturally, was undaunted. With smooth, sweeping motions of the steering wheel, he neatly swerved past every car that he encountered. Soon the Skyline was at 100 miles an hour, then 120, then 140, relentless accelerating to speeds Lien had never experienced or even imagined before. The scenery around her turned into a neon blur, and she found herself wondering how on earth Trist could possibly navigate with such precision in the street-lit night.

Tristan slowed to turn right at an intersection, skipping the red light and drifting his way round the 90-degree bend. Lien let out a little squeal of surprise as the sudden centrifugal forces shunted her to the left. As terrified as she was, she could already feel the adrenaline starting to surge through her body. The fear excited her. It was a thrill unlike any she'd ever experienced before, and although it petrified her to the core, she had already fallen in love with it.

Having swept round the right-hand turn, Tristan was now driving into the oncoming traffic, but still he negotiated his way through with ease. Lien clutched the seat for dear life, her eyes wide with shock as she watched the vehicles hurtle towards her one after the other, each one vanishing to the side at the last second. A man driving a sedan swerved hard onto the pavement to avoid the Skyline, slamming head-on into a lamp-post, and at this point Tristan decided he had better move back into the correct lane, not just for his own safety but for that of the other road users. A head-on impact at these speeds would kill everyone in both cars.

As the Skyline veered back onto the right-hand side of the road, Lien breathed a sigh of relief. She had never been so relieved to see a car's taillights in her life, even if they were still hurtling towards her at considerable speed. "Holy shit, this is crazy!" she exclaimed. "This is completely crazy!"

Tristan did not respond, nor did he make any indication that he had heard her. In all probability, he hadn't: he was concentrating so hard on the road, and making his way through it, that he had blocked almost everything else out, including the voice of his companion. He had not, however, forgotten that Lien was in the car. Indeed, he was driving specifically to impress and/or frighten her, getting closer to the traffic cars and swerving later than he had to, not to mention the little trip down the oncoming lane.

Tristan's next trick was to take a left turn at another four-way intersection, drifting his way between two cars with pinpoint precision; another couple of feet either way and it would all have ended in disaster. This manoeuvre elicited another squeal from Lien, and a sharp flinch at the expected crunch, followed by a drawn-out gasp of relief and astonishment as she realized they had made it. Her adrenaline levels continued to rise, the excitement only building with each near-miss, and with it came a sudden rush of affection for the man who held her life in his hands and was juggling with it like a circus performer.

Suddenly, however, Lien heard the shrill wail of a police siren behind them, and her blood ran cold. "Oh my god, there are police after us!" she exclaimed. Looking in the passenger mirror, she could just about make out the red and blue flashing lights behind them. "What are we gonna do, Tristan?"

Tristan's response was simply to go even faster. The police in Jade City had tried to upgrade their cruisers' performance levels, in an attempt to keep up with the street racers during pursuits, but the street racers had been three steps ahead and their cars outmatched the police cruisers in every possible way. The flashing lights and sirens swiftly faded away as Tristan roared through the city, and the pursuit was over almost as quickly as it had begun.

Feeling that his passenger had perhaps had enough for one day, Tristan slowed down until he was back at the speed limit, then pulled off into an underground car park, sweeping into a space and coming neatly to a stop. "They won't find us in here," he said. "We can wait here for the heat to cool off." He then turned towards Lien. "So, how was it? You enjoy yourself?"

In the passenger seat, Lien was still catching her breath, recovering from the sheer intensity of what she had just experienced. She could still feel the adrenaline coursing through her, and as she realized she had made it through the drive in one piece, she suddenly felt more alive than she ever had in her life. She caught sight of herself in the rear-view mirror: her hair was dishevelled, her face was flushed, and her eyes were still wide with shock, but she was smiling. In spite of all the near-misses she had just endured, she was smiling from ear to ear.

Trist caught sight of her enraptured expression. "I'll take that as a yes, then," he said. "Let's wait a little while, until the cops stop looking for us, and then I'll drive you back to your house. Sound good?"

Lien finally managed to catch her breath, then nodded, sweeping her hair back into place with one hand. "Yes, please," she said, her voice a little breathy. "And I'd… like to do this again sometime, if that's possible."

Tristan nodded. "Sure," he said. "Might start charging you for gas, though."

"That's okay," said Lien. "There's… one other thing I'd like to do with you as well." She started to unfasten her harness, looking over at Tristan with a fiery passion in her eyes. "How long do you think it will take for the cops to stop looking for us?"

Tristan gave no indication that he had cottoned on to Lien's intentions. "I dunno," he said, "maybe half an hour. Why?"

Having unfastened her harness, Lien slipped herself out of it and then launched herself at Tristan, pulling him into a passionate kiss as her pent-up adrenaline finally unleashed itself. It took Tristan only a moment to respond, returning the kiss and pulling Lien closer. The girl obligingly sat on his lap, her tongue sliding into his mouth as their hands began to explore one another…

Day 215

[from Pokémon: Shattered Crystal]

I make it back through Route 29 safely, and head straight for Professor Elm's lab. When I get there, I find that one of the windows has been smashed in, and there are a few police officers milling around. Elm's lab is a very important Pokémon research facility, so the theft here will be of great concern to the local police force, in case anything of significance was stolen.

I duck under the police tape and make my way inside the laboratory. Professor Elm is standing near his desk, talking to a police officer. As the officer notices me approaching, he turns to me with a stern expression. "Excuse me, kid," he says, "this is a crime scene, you can't just-"

"It's okay," Professor Elm said hurriedly, "he's an assistant of sorts. I asked him to come back here after the robbery occurred, just after I called you guys."

The police officer still looks sceptical of me, but decides not to question my presence any further. "I see," he says.

"What exactly happened here, Professor Elm?" I ask.

The officer butts in before Elm can answer. "According to the professor, a rare Pokémon was stolen from the laboratory a short time ago," he said. "The culprit broke in through the front window, stole the Poké Ball, and left immediately without stealing anything else."

"They only took the Pokémon?" I say. "That's strange. There's a lot of stuff here worth stealing, why only take a Pokémon?"

"I don't know," said Professor Elm. "Admittedly, this wasn't a Pokémon you could just find anywhere, but how did that kid know about it?"

I remember the incident that occurred on my way here, and the dots fully connect. "It… wouldn't happen to have been a young guy with long red hair, would it?" I ask.

"Wh- yes, it was!" said Professor Elm, surprised.

The police officer is equally surprised. "You're saying you ran into someone of that description?" he says.

"Yes," I say. "He attacked me on the outskirts of Cherrygrove City… with the stolen Pokémon. I think. I beat him, and he ran off."

"I see," said the police officer, readying his notepad. "Did you happen to get his name?"

"He told me his name was Silva," I tell him. "I don't know if that's a first or a last name, though."

The officer jots down what I just told him. His attitude towards me seems to have improved considerably now that I've assisted him. "Well, that's still a great help," he says. "Now we know his name and his recent movements. Thank you very much for your help."

The police officer heads off, presumably to relay this new information to the other officers, leaving Elm and I by ourselves. The professor still looks a little shaken by what has transpired here. "Ryan, this is terrible," he says. "I still can't believe someone would do something like this."

"I'm sorry, Professor," I say. "I could have stopped him back in Cherrygrove."

"Don't beat yourself up, Ryan," says Professor Elm. "You did what you could." The professor decides to change topics, giving me a small smile. "So, anyway… what was Mr. Pokémon's big discovery?"

"Uhh… hang on a second," I say. I put down my backpack, open up the main compartment, and take out the egg. The professor looks at it in shock, and takes a step backward.

"That?!" he says. "Well, I… what is that?" Composing himself, he steps forward again and adjusts his glasses, peering down at the object. "Is that a Pokémon egg? If it is, it's a fantastic discovery! We've always wondered how Pokémon reproduce, and this egg could well be the answer to our questions!" He reaches out to take it from me. "May I…?"

"Of course," I say, handing it over. The Professor takes it gently in his hands and turns it over, examining it. "Truly an amazing discovery…" he mutters. "I'll study this egg and see what I can learn about it." He places it very carefully on top of his healing machine, nestling it inside one of the Poké Ball slots, then turns back to me. "Is there anything else to report?"

"I guess there is one thing," I say. "I ran into Professor Oak at Mr. Pokémon's house, and he gave me a Pokédex." I take out the Pokédex and show it to Professor Elm.

"He did?" said Professor Elm, amazed. "Wow, that's incredible, Ryan! I guess Professor Oak must have seen the same potential in you that I have. You'd make a great trainer, Ryan, maybe even a Champion someday."

I hadn't thought of myself as being that good at Pokémon training, but it seems Professors Elm and Oak both think otherwise. "You really think so?" I say.

"I do," says Professor Elm. "In fact, I think you should take the Pokémon Gym Challenge. It's an excellent way of both honing and proving your skills with Pokémon. The closest Gym would be the one in Violet City, north of Cherrygrove."

I nod. It might be worth considering; I can gather Elm's data, look after the egg, and test myself all at the same time. "Okay. I'll give it a try."

Professor Elm crouches down and places a hand on my shoulder, looking at me with a serious expression. "Ryan," he says. "The road to the championship will be a long and difficult one. You'll face a lot of challenges, and you might not make it through all of them unscathed. You understand that, right?"

I nod. "I understand."

"Good." Professor Elm straightens up again. "You should talk to your mom before you leave. She'll want to know where you're going, and what you're up to. I'm sure she'll be proud of you, Ryan. I'll be rooting for you all the way. Good luck."

"Thanks, Professor," I reply.

I turn to exit the lab, but Professor Elm suddenly calls me back. "Wait, Ryan!" I turn back, and the professor heads to his desk and opens a draw. Fishing around, he pulls out five empty Poké Balls, which he then hands to me. "Here," he says. "If you're going to be filling in the Pokédex for Professor Oak, you'll be needing Poké Balls to catch new Pokémon. You know how to use them, right?"

"Yeah," I say, "you just weaken the Pokémon you want to catch, and then throw a Ball at them."

"Precisely," says the professor. "You'll want to catch as many Pokémon as you can to fill that Dex up. Besides, you won't be able to take on the whole Pokémon League with just that Cyndaquil, no matter how strong it is."

"Okay." I take the Poké Balls and put them in one of the pockets of my bag. I'm sure they'll come in very useful. "Thank you, Professor."

"Good luck, Ryan," sas Professor Elm. "I'll call you if I learn anything about the Egg."

I head back out of the laboratory with this new idea firmly planted in my brain. I'm going to try and become a strong Pokémon trainer, and even if I can't become the Champion like Professor Elm thinks, I'm sure I can still do myself proud if I really try my best.

Ducking back under the police tape, I emerge into the street once more, and head off back home. When I get in, my mother is in the kitchen. "Good afternoon, honey," she says. "What did Professor Elm want?"

"He wanted me to run an errand for him over in Cherrygrove," I tell her. "He gave me a Pokémon to help me." I show her Firebrand.

"Aww, that's a cute Pokémon," she says. "That was very kind of the professor. Did you thank him for it?"

"I did, mom," I reassure her.

"Okay, that's good," she says. I know I should tell her that I'm leaving to become a trainer now, but somehow I just can't bring myself to. She seems to tell that something's up, however, because after a moment she says: "Is there something else, Ryan?"

I take a deep breath and decide to just come out with it. "Professor Elm says I have enough skill with Pokémon to be a champion trainer one day. He says I should go and take the Pokémon Gym Challenge, so... I'm going to do it. Or at least, I'm going to try. But it means that… I might not be home for a while."

My mother nods, and to my relief I see that she is smiling. "I see," she says. "So, you're leaving on a big adventure… well, in that case, I wish you all the best of luck, dear. Do remember to come and visit sometime, okay? I'll keep your room nice and tidy for you. And don't push yourself too hard, alright? You can always take a break whenever you need to."

"I know, mom," I say.

"Hmm… there must be some way I can help you out from here…" my mother says to herself.

"Honestly, mom, I'll be fine," I tell her.

"I'm sure you will," she says. "You're my big, strong man, and I'm so proud of you, but that doesn't mean I can't support you, right? Oh, I know! I can save money for you! I'm sure you'll be needing plenty of it on your journey. Would you like me to do that for you?"

"Sure," I say. "Thanks, mom." [AUTHOR NOTE: I actually chose "No" in-game, due to how the mechanic works, but it wouldn't fit the narrative if I had the protagonist decline]

"Okay," my mother says. "Be careful out there. And remember, Pokémon are your friends. You need to work with them, not treat them like tools."

"I know, mom," I say. "I'll look after Firebrand and the others. I promise."

"Good," she says, smiling down at me. "Now, go on! Go out and conquer those Gyms! I'll be behind you all the way!"

I nod. "I will," I say. "I'll see you later, mom."

"See you later, Ryan," says mom. "I'll be rooting for you!"

I leave my house, not knowing when I'll be returning to it, and head back towards Route 29 once more. My Pokémon journey is now truly underway.

Day 214

[from Electron]

Electron landed neatly in Coolidge Avenue and started frantically searching for house number 156. Even though he knew there was no way the Iron Maiden could have gotten there before him, he still couldn't help panicking that he might be too late. His relief upon seeing the front door and windows still intact was immeasurable.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Electron headed up the cobbled driveway and pounded on the door. "Mr. Smith?" he called out. "This is Electron. Your life is in urgent danger. I need to speak with you right now."

When the door opened, it was not Andy Smith who answered, though nor - thankfully - was it the Iron Maiden. Instead it was a woman, presumably Andy's wife. She opened the door slowly, looking at Electron with a mixture of concern, confusion, and sorrow. "Is your husband home?" asked Electron.

Mrs. Smith shook her head. "No," she said. "When we heard about Kevin, he panicked, and said he needed to go into hiding. He said she'd be coming after him next. He didn't tell me where he went. It's true, isn't it?" she added. "That masked woman's going after him-"

"She will be," said Electron. "His friend Matt's already dead. I need to find him before she does. Do you have any idea where he could have gone to?"

Mrs. Smith shook her head. "N-no, I don't know," she said. "I… he could be anywhere-"

Electron persisted, keeping calm and composed despite the pressure. "Try to think of a place where your husband would feel safe," he said. "Can you think of anywhere like that?"

"Uhh…" Mrs. Smith thought for a moment, looking increasingly agitated, then snapped her fingers. "The old shooting range!" she exclaimed. "There's this… outdoor shooting range, to the north, outside of town. It closed down a couple of years ago, but my husband and his friends go up there every so often to let off a few rounds… the targets are still there, and my husband owns a gun, he probably took it with him… I think he's going to shoot her when she shows up-"

"Then that makes two people I have to stop," said Electron, letting out a small sigh. "Right, I got it. The old shooting range. I'll go look for him. Thank you for your help."

Electron started to turn away, but Mrs. Smith seized his arm, pulling him back round to face her. There was a growing look of dread on her face. "Why is this woman after him?" she asked.

Electron fell silent for a moment, unsure what to tell the woman. Should he tell her that her husband and his friends were all murderers? Somehow, he felt that he could not bring himself to do so. "I'm not sure you want to know," he said.

Mrs. Smith did not release Electron's arm; in fact, her grip tightened, her fear-widened eyes pleading up at him. "Electron," she said, her voice quiet and wavering, "what did my husband do?"

Suddenly, Electron realized that she was not just dreading what might happen to her husband: she was dreading the truth. As hard as it may have been for her to accept at first, she knew that her husband and his friends had done something terrible to this woman, and now she wanted to hear it for herself. With a heavy sigh, he looked Mrs. Smith deep in the eyes. "Your husband, and his friends… they killed a man," said Electron. "Now his wife is hunting them down, out of revenge. I couldn't stop her from killing the other three, but now that I'm one step ahead of her, I promise I will save your husband."

Mrs. Smith brought a hand up to her mouth in shock, her face turning pale as the revelation sank in. She staggered back a few paces, her other hand straying to her chest, then nodded as though in acknowledgement. Her lips began to move, and she muttered something under her breath that Electron could barely hear: "I… I never thought he would go this far… I know when he hits me, it's because I've done something wrong, but this man, he didn't do anything, he-" Mrs. Smith froze suddenly, as another thought occurred to her. Maybe I didn't do anything wrong. Maybe it's been him all these years, and I just didn't realize it until now. All this time… Slowly, the fear and sorrow she felt for her husband ebbed away, replaced by torrents of repressed pain, regret, and anger.

Though Electron could not see the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside her, he could tell that Mrs. Smith needed some time to herself, to process everything. "I think I'll leave you alone for now," he said. "I have to go save your husband, after all."

As Electron turned to go once more, Mrs. Smith suddenly shook her head, this time with a new-found ferocity. "Don't bother," she said. "If they… if they really killed that man… then he deserves to rot like the rest of them."

Electron turned back, shaking his own head. "He deserves to answer for his crimes," said Electron. "He deserves to face justice. Just not the kind of justice that woman's dishing out." Electron turned to go once more, and this time Mrs. Smith did not try to stop him. "I'm really sorry," Electron said finally. "I really am." With that, he took off into the sky, heading north.

"Martin," he said, activating his radio. "Andy wasn't at his house; he got spooked and ran to a disused shooting range north of town. I'm gonna head there now, see if I can convince him to turn himself in. That oughta put a stop to Jasmine's rampage."

"Alright, good job, man," said Martin. "And if you could apprehend her while you're at it, that'd be great."

"I'll do my best," said Electron. "The police are still out combing the city for her, right?"

"Yeah, but they ain't found her yet," said Martin. "Let's hope they do. In the meantime, you get to Andy."

"Will do," said Electron. "Oh, and could you send a police unit over to his house, please? I think his wife might have a few things to say."

"I'm on it," said Martin.

It was at this point that something occurred to Electron. "Actually… don't," he said. "Don't send a police unit there. At least, not yet. I've got an idea."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not gonna like the sound of this?" asked Martin.

***

It was not long before the sudden smash of a window heralded the Iron Maiden's arrival at Andy's house. Mrs. Smith was sitting in the living room as though waiting for her, her head bowed and her face pale as she continued to digest the horrible truths she had just learned. "Your husband," said the Iron Maiden. "Where is he?"

Mrs. Smith looked up, her expression strangely calm. "He's at the disused shooting range, north of town," she said. "It won't be that hard for you to find."

The Iron Maiden nodded, appreciative of the help, and also pleasant surprised. "Thank you," she said, before adding, "You understand, don’t you? Why I have to do this."

Mrs. Smith nodded in reply. "I do," she said. "I just wish I could have done it sooner."