The room that pokemon center assigns me could be called spacious. On occasion. It has three beds, and if they were occupied, I doubt there would be too much space. However, I am the only one here, the nurse had said that the season hasn't yet begun so there aren't many trainers here right now, so the place seems wide enough.

  Dreadful of the bed and knowing what kind of thoughts I would sink into if I were to lay down, I approach the small window. The sky had darkened even more in a time we spent in the loby, and the rain had finally started pouring down. It was trying to, at least, as the wind caught it in its embrace, scattering it in wild and unpredoctable patterns.

  To me, it feels almost as if I were back in the base, most of the nights felt like this, plus the noise of 19 other guys. Whenever it was raining, our barrack would be plagued with curses, since everyone knew that meant we'd be greeted with a muddy morning training.

  But I can almost smell those nights, even though this is not that room, so I open the window to try and keep those thoughts at bay. I feel the blow of the storm all at once, as the sharp wind slaps my face, and my lungs fill up with the agressive chill. Ever so slightly it clears my mind.

  Cassie had said they are meeting at 9 AM tomorrow, at the entrance of Rusturf tunnel. She had shown me how to enter the town map on my pokedex, so I managed to figure out approximately where that was. The map was all that I needed to get a better sense of this town, curtesy of military training.

  Although I had acted as if I would join the three of them, I have never finalised the decision. For the most part, the act was there to get professor Lydia to take pity on me.

  Although trying out for the police force sounded like a solid plan, it was one thrown at me way too suddenly. All of this was thrown at me to suddenly. I still had no clue where I was standing. I had no clue if I was still standing.

  The same old thought roars through my mind. I might be dead. Or dying.

  It only grows louder, now that the initial shock had passed and I'm alone in a small room.

  Trying to shake off this feeling for as long as I can, I dig up Charmander's pokeball. Flashing blue lights up the room for just a second, and out of the elongated shadows my pokemon stands before me.

  Charmander stretches his body, yawning, as his eyes breeze across the room in curiousity.

  Charmander. Another thing that makes me think none of this is real.

  I kneel down to pet him, just to make sure he's really there. The skin feels scaly underneath my fingers as Charmander nudges his head into my palm.

  He lets out a satisfied growl, and I pick him up, wanting to show him the storm. Careful so his flaming tail doesn't set me, or anything else, on fire, I hold him up to the window. As the small lizard stares outside in awe, I wonder if I should try talking to him. It feels like I should. But damn, I haven't lost my mind completely, not yet.

  So we stand there, in silence that only Charmander breaks every now and again, until life in me becomes too loud to ignore, clawing its way to the forefront of my mind. And the storm won't subside anytime soon, I know.

  I'll keep my focus on things I can deal with. For now, let me pretend all of this is real, I decide.

  Making my way to the small bathroom I note that there's no washing machine. The washing room's probably separate from the guest rooms, I conclude, which is terrible news for me. This is the only clothes I have, and I can't exactly walk around the pokemon center butt naked.

  They have the towels for guests, at least.

  So I walk back out, take of my clothes and hang them on one of the empty beds. I have to air them out, at least, until I get some money so I can get some new ones. Now that I had food and shelter settled for the time being, the clothes were the next big issue.

  I walk back into the bathroom, Charmander following close behind me. Being naked in front of the fire lizard is a tad bit weird, but I find it but I survived military, so I'll survive this as well.

  Actually, no, I didn't survive military.

  Charmander doesn't to care about things like that, though, and I quickly come to term with my circumstances.

  Thinking of it, I find it strange, having the shower all to myslef. That was a rare occasion during the past 2 years I had spent in the base. The silence is deafening, interrupted only by the stream of hot water.

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  I should think the water would clear my head, but it does the exact opposite. Alone like this, I can only think about my friends and bunkmates back in the base.

  The last thing I remember comes back to me in howls, the siren blaring to let us know our base was under attack, bats of footsteps, slamming doors, the gunshots.

  As my hands cross my chest, I still half-expect to find blood on my fingers. It would be the first sign of waking up to reality. But when I chek my hand, it's devoided of the red.

  Alive, for now.

  Even if I am alive, really alive, someone else might not be, I think to myself.

  Faces stream into my head along with the water, and I could deal with the fact that I might be a deadman dreaming all of this up with my last breath, but I know there are others bleeding to their death as well. In war, there are always others.

  I can almost hear my friends from the base, I can almost hear my parents, whom I had last heard from from a letter a month ago. And Nina, I don't even know why I'm thinking about her. I haven't heard from her since I went into service. I hope she's doing well.

  The bathfoam they have laid out for guests smells like poppies in late spring. The sweetly sharp smell combines with my running thoughts, making me want to throw up.

  The sensation feels real.

  I realise, maybe I don't want this to be real.

  The air bursts out sharp from my lungs, along with it I try to exhale all of this heaviness.

  Turning off the water, I grab one of the towels, and start wiping myslef off. I do it as fast as possible, the way I used to do back in the base, but the soft fabric seems to want me to take things slow, be gentle.

  Still half-wet, I wrap the towel across my waist and place myself in front of the mirror.

  The first thing I realise is that I don't have the 5 o'clock shadow. It plagued me for the past 2 years, but now it wasn't there. I almost miss it. Maybe it's because I'm dead. In my escapism, I do not grow a beard.

  Lack of the beard makes the rest of my face seem younger. My hair is as chesnut brown as always, each hair adamant on going wherever it wants to go. Skin as pale as I remember, and lips as thin and pink.

  Even my eyes look as tired as they always do. Brown and harsh.

  But there's no 5 o'clock shadow and I look wrong to myself because of it.

  I check my chest again. Still clear of any bullet wounds. The scar on my right hand still stretches out, pink and trying to have a pulse.

  Something tugs at my towel and I look down to see Charmander, pulling at its edge. I bend down carefully, picking him and holding him in front of the mirror.

  I look to myself like one of those woman who treat their purse dogs like children. Only, I'm not a woman with a dog, but a half-naked guy with a fire lizard.

  Charmander gazes at his reflection with excitment, reaching his arm and trying to wave at it. He flinches in surprise when the image immediately returns the gesture.

  I want to laugh. "That's just how mirrors work", I say instead.

  He gazes back at me in surprise, and I walk us both out into the room. I pass the bed where my clothes are, deciding that I should let them air out during the night. Since I'm alone, I can sleep in a towel. I only hope the morning doesn't greet me with a roomate.

  Still holding Charmander up, I go and stand in front of the window again.

  Winds are roaring even stronger now, still capturing the falling raindrops. Lightings brigthtened the dark skies in random places. Charmander stared at it in awe. He liked it, either the sky or the storm, young as he was.

  Charmander was one of the rare pokemon I remembered, and I knew he's supposed to become a Charizard. Maybe there was an innate desire in him, in his soul he might've known he'd fly someday, so he yearned for the skies. Even the stormy ones.

  Flying in storms was a death wish though, and Charmander stood no chance. He was too young, and he had an unfortune of meeting me.

  Cassie had explained to me that evolution requiers training. And I knew well enough, I wasn't about to train Charmander. Not like that. Even if I wanted to, I had no idea how to do it, and Charmander already had the detriment of his birth defect.

  "So, what do you want to do?", I say to my pokemon, almost apologetically. It might be stupid to ask fire lizards for opinion, but it's not like I had anyone else to turn to. "Go to Rustboro or stay here?".

  Charmander gives me a short-lived look, before turning to stare at the storm again.

  He's not going to help out with this, I think.

  The wind manages to sneak in through the window, crashing into my still wet body. I don't mind it. It wakes me up, makes my mind clearer.

  Staying here feels much easier. I had nothing to look for in this world, a job is all I needed. In case I was alive and I had to go on living that is.

  Verdanturf saves me the travel with those three. Although Cassie's more than willing to let me join, Xander and Leo aren't exaclty fans of me.

  The prices are lower here as well, Cassie had told me, but there are not too many jobs, especially not ones that pay enough for survival.

  Rustboro, on the other hand, was a big city, with more opportunities. Higher prices, but more jobs, and higher paying ones. Police station was there as well, one job that would fit me.

  One thing about enlisting at 16, you don't exactly get to developed too many skill that can get you a regular job.

  One thing that ran through my mind was the station. It probably had stuff like showers and such.

  I couldn't stay in the pokemon center forever, I knew. 2 months. Maybe 6, if I made a trip to challenge a gym.

  In case I lost my pokemon center privileges and didn't have enough money to rent out a place of my own, the station would offer me some kind of shelter at least. Plus, Cassie had said they were going to Rustobro to challenge a gym. Just a fact that there was a gym in the city meant that I wouldn't have to make trips to extend my trainer privileges.

  That's 6 months of food and shelter secured. I'd have the time to get everything else that I needed.

  I look back at my clothes.

  If I'm alive, I will definitely need more stuff.

  Charmander's still staring off through the window. I think he wants to get going.