SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16

The previous day's museum tour hadn't gone as well as I'd hoped, but I tried not to let that discourage me. The keyword is try - I'm not saying I succeeded.

Because, by and large, I failed.

The memory of that glass breaking seized me by the wrists every time I closed my eyes, even if it was just for a blink. My credit card (that my parents paid) was on the hook for the damages, and it added up to a pretty penny.

"How did you not know that you were about to touch the glass?" my mom snapped at me.

"I didn't think I was…even then, I don't think anyone did it on purpose" I replied. "I mean, why would I break the glass on purpose?"

"Maybe you wanted to steal the artifact. How should I know?" she hissed at me.

For some reason, I was not grounded after that. Maybe now that I was eighteen, my parents didn't think it was worth it to keep me from leaving the apartment. Besides, they would never forbid me from going to school.

In any case, by the time I went to bed on Sunday evening, I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of seeing Tim again. He wouldn't forgive me that easily.

But we're friends. Surely he'll be able to look past it eventually. Even if he has to pay a bit of money to fix the glass.

Whether I liked it or not, time seemed to pass more rapidly when it was approaching an event I dreaded. Each second felt like it ticked by at double speed, and I wanted to reach out to Father Time and yell at him to slow down.

But it didn't work that way, and as I closed my eyes, I drifted off almost immediately despite not being at peace whatsoever.

The first thing I saw (or rather, heard) was the sound of glass shattering. It would haunt my dreams for some time to come.

And then, something else happened.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on a cold, hard slab that they might call a bed in a correctional facility, but that wouldn't be accepted as such anywhere else. My muscles protested from this position, which was guaranteed to induce stiffness almost instantly.

"Wake up, inmate!"

Inmate? Does that mean I'm really in jail? I guess then they're going to slap some criminal charges on me from the museum!

Oh boy, I'm really in hot water now. All I had to do was leave Jeff at home, and I would have prevented this. That's the worst part!

I clutched my aching head as I rolled over into a seated position. Then I stared down at my ankles and saw that I was in fact dressed like a prisoner. There was what looked like an ankle monitor tethered to my lower leg, as well as a black-and-white striped suit adorning my whole body.

"Where…am I?" I wondered aloud. Obviously it was a jail or prison, but I couldn't put my finger on how I'd ended up here.

They probably kidnapped me right from my bed, I thought bitterly. Or they drugged me somehow. Or both!

"Just look me in the eye, and I'll tell you!" boomed a deep voice. The tone practically radiated authority, and I was forced to do as its bearer told me.

So I saw that I was behind golden bars that looked as though they could withstand a wrecking ball if they needed to. Behind the door of my cell, there stood a quadrupedal Legendary Pokémon with a brown body, red and yellow facial fur, and the most striking red eyes I'd ever seen.

In other words, I'd come face-to-face with Entei himself.

"Uh…hello" I mumbled.

"That is no way to greet a Legendary!" a hissing female voice exclaimed. "Inmate, you will show more respect to the great Entei!"

"Right. Ah, sorry about that."

Entei raised an eyebrow. "Makoto Mutsamudu, with that attitude, I suspect you will find yourself apologizing frequently during our conversations. And I'll have you know that this talk right now is the most important one you'll ever have."

"Oh, really?" I enquired. "Even more important than one of my IEP meetings?"

"Correct, inmate!" another female hissed. (I could not see the source of that voice, so I could only speculate about what that captor of mine looked like.)

"Could you please stop calling me 'inmate'? It's really quite dehumanizing."

"But that's what you are," the other woman all but snapped. "If you want to no longer be an inmate, you may as well do what we say. And that starts with understanding that you're not the one in control here."

I remembered an exercise I'd repeatedly been given as a child: If you feel like saying or doing something impulsive, it was vital to take a series of deep breaths and wait for yourself to calm down. That way, you wouldn't end up blurting words you'd later regret.

"Ladies, I think Makoto gets the point," Entei stated. "You can stop chastising him now. It's only natural that he'd be taken aback when he finds himself here - it's a pretty jarring place."

Never would I have imagined that Entei would be the one sticking up for me.

"Fair enough" one of the unseen women stated. "But know this, inmate: If you talk back to us, if you question anything we tell you to do, you're going to have a bad time."

"Right."

Entei sighed. "I might, ah…have worded that pronouncement a little more diplomatically. But it's correct in essentials. It's in your best interest to cooperate with us. Not because we will punish you for disobedience, but rather because your future depends on it."

"You sound a lot like my history teacher" I quipped.

"Whatever" Entei insisted. "The most important thing for you to know, Makoto Mutsamudu, is that you cannot fly too close to the sun, or you might get burned. Do you know that character from the mythology of Johto?"

"Remind me again" I said, because Mr. Barnes didn't drone on about history for no reason. I didn't know much ancient mythology, and neither did most of my classmates.

"Icarus, the son of Daedalus…they say the myth exists on another planet, the one called Earth. But it was stolen from us."

"So Earth's real? Does that have to do with our business here?" I asked, floored.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but we shouldn't deal with the metaphysical," Entei said. "The most important aspect of the story of Icarus is what it means. If you get drunk on your own power, or happiness, or whatever the case may be, it's very dangerous. And that goes not just for you, but for everyone else as well."

"Makes sense" I responded blankly, still not knowing what Entei was getting at.

"You've got restraints on here, Makoto Mutsamudu, but the irony is that restraint can set you free."

"Good one," I muttered.

"Makoto Mutsamudu, this is vitally important! If you do not comprehend my instructions, you might as well give up now!"

"Then I'll give up. I don't even really want to be here, honestly." And I didn't; I had enough problems even if this dream had never occurred.

"Fat chance of that, inmate!" one of the ladies snarled.

"Look, Makoto Mutsamudu," Entei replied, "you may legally be an adult as far as mortal law goes, but I can still protect you from your worst impulses. Even if you think you want to give up, if you knew the consequences that will come if you do give up, you might sing a different tune."

"Great. Is the world at stake or whatever?"

Entei raised an eyebrow, which is how I knew that the answer was yes, but in a nicer way. Of course, there's really no "nice" way to give someone that information, particularly when that person must be responsible for saving it.

"Right," I muttered. "Stupid question."

"There is no such thing," the Legendary replied, "as a stupid question, so long as it is asked in good faith. While I cannot tell you that the world hangs in the balance, the future of Pastoria City and its surrounding region certainly does."

"And I guess I have to save it," I stated matter-of-factly, as casually as someone else might say, I'm going to get a snack.

"You are correct," Entei replied with a sigh. "I wish it didn't have to come to this."

"Why is that, Entei? Are you afraid you can't handle it on your own?" Those words came out more harshly than I meant them.

"On the contrary," the Legendary responded, "I'm afraid for you. Could this all be too much to handle?"

"Maybe" I admitted. "I have school, after all. You might know this - I'm a senior at Pastoria High, and they're saddling us with loads of work every day. I don't know if I have time to - ".

"Save your city?" Entei asked, finishing the sentence for me. "Well, need I remind you what happens if you refuse to at least try?"

"True."

"Stop talking back, inmate!" one of the women snapped. "This is not punishment, you know; it's for your own good!"

"Fair enough" I responded, rebuked. Turning to Entei, I asked the following question: "So what am I supposed to do? Gain superpowers to defeat some cartoon villains?"

Entei snorted. "All you have to do, Makoto Mutsamudu, is to rid Pastoria City of its corruption."

"Corruption, huh?" I remarked. "I guess that's a problem here."

"Well, they always say that power corrupts," Entei replied. "Of course, it could be that those who are most corruptible are also the most inclined to seek power in the first place. But that doesn't matter."

"Wouldn't it matter what the root cause of the corruption is?" I wondered aloud. Honestly, the demands Entei had given me were vague enough to have me scratching my head.

"Perhaps it would" the Legendary told me. "But there is one thing you should not forget, Makoto Mutsamudu."

"Calling me by my first and last names now, are we?" I replied, only now noticing the naming convention Entei had been using this whole time. Why did he need to be so formal?

Entei raised an eyebrow. "That's just how it goes. Anyway, you should know that you have a gift. What you do with that gift is up to you, but the decisions you make are also vitally important."

"Why do they matter so much?" I wondered aloud. "I'm just one person. Quite frankly, I have no power in the grand scheme of things."

"That's what they all say," Entei snapped. "It's an excuse, Makoto Mutsamudu. That's all it is. The idea that one has no impact is what people tell themselves to avoid taking action when it's warranted."

I must have been staring pretty hard, because Entei cleared his throat before continuing.

"Sloth is not the 'get out of jail free' card that many want it to be" the Legendary asserted. "You'll need to do better than that."

DA Woods: So you had a dream on the night spanning September 16 and September 17 of 202X?

Mr. Mutsamudu: That is correct, Your Honor.

DA Woods: According to the affidavit you signed before coming to testify today, the dream involved two faceless female figures, as well as the Legendary Pokémon known as Entei. You were told to, and I quote, "rid Pastoria City of corruption."

Mr. Mutsamudu: That's what happened in the dream, yes.

DA Woods: So tell me, Makoto. Just tell me the truth. What did you think of what Entei had to say?

Mr. Mutsamudu: It might have only been a dream, but he was very persuasive. He appealed to my emotions - I didn't want to be a lazy bum who waited for others to make a difference, did I? What's that again - ethos, pathos, or logos?

DA Woods: That's pathos, Makoto. Not that it matters, of course - that question is merely a distraction from what's truly important. How much corruption did you perceive in Pastoria City prior to this dream?

Mr. Mutsamudu: Well, let me say that I didn't pay attention very often to what was going on in the outside world. School was all that mattered to me. That, and…other things.

DA Woods: What "other things" are we talking about here, Makoto?

Mr. Mutsamudu: Just, you know, hanging out with friends and whatnot. It's still important to have a social life, is it not?

I woke up in a cold sweat, my sheets having been soaked through by my body's perspiration. Even my pillow was drenched.

My first thought was that I must have developed a fever. And maybe I had, but other than my joints aching a bit, there was no other sign of illness. Instead of telling my parents I was sick, I decided, I'd just throw the sheets in the laundry basket for later and head off to school.

Sloth is not the "get out of jail free" card that many want it to be.

Entei had given me that advice, and I decided it was best to follow it. As I brushed my teeth, still shivering from the immense amount of sweat I'd produced overnight, I had some time to wonder exactly what that dream had meant.

Not much is open to interpretation. Entei told you exactly what to do - rid Pastoria City of all its corruption. If you can't follow those instructions, that's on you.

But he didn't say how I'd do that, just that it was necessary. So forgive me if I'm still a bit confused.

I got dressed, making sure to towel off my entire body before I stepped into my clothes for the day. And then I headed into the kitchen, where my mother was waiting for me with a plate of waffles and berries.

One look at her face told me that she was displeased.

We started eating breakfast, but there was a tense silence between us that was so thick, even a chainsaw would not have been sufficient to cut it. We just sat across from one another, staring into the other person's eyes.

Eventually, I worked up the courage to break said silence by asking a direct question.

"Is it about the glass again?" I enquired.

"No," she replied. "It has nothing to do with you. I'm just…a bit blindsided, you know?"

I frowned, but a sinking feeling grew in my chest as I did so. What if I knew something she didn't?

"There are a lot of extra charges on your credit card," my mother said. "We were wondering if you recognized them."

Oh, shit. I'm a dead Golduck.

My mother showed me a bank statement, and I saw that I had indeed spent some roughly 300 Poké on Ubers. Or at least, my credit card had been used to pay for them, but for all my mother knew, it could have been fraud.

I had to talk my way out of this. But could I?

"I don't recognize those charges" I stated, trying to sound natural. "I don't know who's taking those Ubers, but it's definitely not me."

Wow. How did I pull that off, lying so boldly to my mother like that?

"I hope that's the truth, Makoto," my mother replied. "I hope that's the truth. Because we pay your credit card, and you know that we're not exactly wealthy to begin with. So I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from."

"I understand," I echoed, because what else was I supposed to say?

"Very well," Mom responded. "I won't keep you from school any longer - are you going to take the subway?"

I nodded. "That's how I always get to school, is it not?"

"Well, you'd know better than me," she said, and for a moment I wondered whether she had indeed sussed out my falsehood. "But yes, that's how you get to school. And you'd better not be late - don't want to miss anything important."

"Right," I told her.

"Oh yeah," my mother replied after I'd donned my backpack and was about to walk out the door. "There's something else I'd like to tell you."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You should join a club or two," she suggested. "That'd give you something to do outside of classes, and in my experience, that's the best way to ward off depression. I would hate to see you get depressed, Makoto."

"Thanks, Mom" I said, and that was the truth. Perhaps joining a club would give me something to think about other than the Furret mask or Hayley.

Speaking of Hayley, I hadn't even thought of her since that disastrous day at the museum. It's crazy how such events can distract you from other things that were previously important, but that's just how human brains worked.

Somehow, I don't think the Gardening Club is the answer. I'm sure there are plenty of other things to do.

So after that, I went off to school in an Uber that I didn't call until I was out of sight of the apartment building. Summoning the Uber felt like destroying a family heirloom (not that my family really had heirlooms), because it meant deceiving my own mother about not being responsible for charges she was on the hook for. And yet, it was better than risking the subway.

For a while, school went exactly like it normally did on Mondays. I managed to stay out of Corey McBride's way, respond to all my teachers when called on (giving an answer that was at least marginally coherent), and projected confidence in each class. Things weren't going amazingly well, but it was better than I'd come to expect from high school.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened until lunchtime.

That day I picked up my lunch from the cafeteria, a bowl of steaming beef stew with potatoes (which I wasn't pleased by, considering that the day was unseasonably warm.) Electing to forgo another meeting with Hayley, I instead sat alone against one of the small stone walls that adorned the main green of Pastoria High. And I ate my beef stew. You could say that I was stewing in a series of emotions that ensnared me as soon as I didn't have a lecture to focus on.

(Okay, that was a bad joke. I'll admit it. But let's be honest: Bad jokes can be funnier than good ones sometimes.)

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colin Grady and heard him talking to Doug and Tim. (This could have just been me, but I didn't think that my 20/20 vision would have been able to make this out under most circumstances. Perhaps I'd become farsighted at age eighteen.)

So I decided to head over to the other boys. If I didn't seek out socialization, I wouldn't find any; at least, that was my reasoning.

"Tell us about the museum, Tim!" Colin exclaimed. "The glass shattered?"

"It must have been Jeff, Makoto's Psyduck," Tim responded.

At those words, I gulped, feeling very thankful that Jeff was safely in his Pokéball and couldn't hear what "Tiny Tim" was saying about him. I was also fairly certain that the other three boys couldn't see me.

"And you're banned from the museum?" Doug enquired. "For life?"

Personally, I'm not sure that's something to brag about.

"We were, but it wasn't my fault," Tim said. "It was Jeff Psyduck. He willed the glass to break, and that's exactly what it did. And most of the time protective glass is pretty good at what it does, so a light touch wouldn't have done it."

I listened into this conversation a little longer, my beef stew momentarily forgotten. Honestly, it could stay where it was for all I cared.

"There's also the drama club" Tim stated, possibly trying to deflect the conversation to a different topic.

"Yeah, that's right!" Colin remarked. "I'm in it!"

"I've been kinda debating whether or not I should join," Tim muttered. "I don't know if I have any acting skills to speak of."

"You could always work the lights," Doug suggested. "But you might as well shoot for the stars. You miss all of the shots you don't take."

Tim might be there, I realized. This is how they always tell you to make friends - find people who share hobbies or interests with you.

I should sign up for the drama club!

And then I had an image of standing under hot lights, before an audience of hundreds. I might be able to memorize my lines without anyone watching, but under all the pressure to perform, it could be a different story.

Then again, I could always join the light brigade like Doug had suggested for Tim. But where would be the fun in that?

Indeed, Tim echoed my thoughts. "What's the point of that?"

"There are a lot of unpleasant jobs in this world," Doug pointed out. "But somebody has to do all of them, at least until we can make AI do it for us."

"That's right," Colin concurred. "Tim, you'd better sign up for it, because I'm sure spots in their next production will fill up fast."

Of course, I recognized this tactic. It was used by just about any company advertising a product or experience - don't wait, sign up now, because soon you might not be able to. It was the oldest trick in the book.

And yet, there's a reason it was so prevalent: It works.

After another couple of classes full of boredom and ennui, I let Jeff out of his Pokéball and smiled at him.

"Why are you so happy, Makoto?" my Psyduck enquired. "I don't see you smiling very often these days. Did you get the girl?"

I snorted awkwardly. "Jeff, that's a pretty personal question, you know?"

Jeff shuffled awkwardly. "You're right. But really, what's going on?"

"Well, I'm going to sign up for the drama club now" I told my Psyduck. "And I think you're invited."

Jeff's reaction could hardly have been more cartoonish. He did something akin to a jumping jack, landing flat on his feet and grinning at me like a drunkard.

"That's right," I said. "But you'll need to be on your best behavior. There are secrets we share between us, and you'd better not reveal any of them."

I didn't need to specify the "levitation incident." Jeff knew exactly what I was talking about even without saying that.

"Right" my Psyduck replied like a soldier who'd just been given orders from his drill sergeant.

Come to think of it, there was another reason the drama club might be a good choice for me: It promised me an opportunity to practice an essential skill. Namely, masking. (Not in a literal sense, mind you; bringing Clint's mask to a rehearsal would have been a surefire way to get kicked out, or worse.)

The drama club was held in what had once been a classroom. It's worth noting that the plays were performed in one of the school's auditoriums, but the practice sessions were not permitted to use it.

I walked into the appointed room, where I saw that Tim was already there! He wasn't facing me, though; his attention was focused on someone speaking.

So I tapped my possible friend on the shoulder. (Ah, who am I kidding? He probably wasn't my friend anymore, but he was the closest thing to one in this room.)

He swiveled around to face me, with an exasperated glare that group therapy had taught me meant one thing only: Impatience.

I had one chance to say what I wanted.

"Tim," I said, "I didn't know you were going to the drama club," I said. Needless to say, this wasn't true. I just wanted him to think it was so that he wouldn't get mad at me for eavesdropping at lunch.

Tim frowned. "I am. Thought I'd try this out. Anyway, let's focus on what Angelina's saying."

A tall girl with darker skin than Tim's (though not by very much) stood against the wall. She wore a lanyard with a key attached, indicating that she was likely a boarding student.

"To those newcomers today," the girl said, "my name is Angelina Sparks. I'm the head of the drama club here at Pastoria High. And I'll set a ground rule right now: Pokémon partners are permitted here, but they must be on their best behavior."

I gave Jeff a playful nudge. "Did you hear that? You've gotta be on your best behavior" I whispered. (Of course, both of us knew that Pokémon had keener senses of sound than humans. He'd certainly head Angelina.)

"If you all could keep side conversations to a minimum," Angelina continued, "I would greatly appreciate that. It's not polite to talk over someone who's giving you instructions."

"Right," I muttered, scratching my head.

"In any case," she said, "all of you are here because you presumably want to take part in our production this semester. That's got to be true, right?"

Everyone present, probably about twenty people in total, raised their hands.

"Good," Angelina told us. "I should hope that is the case, because this production will take effort. We're working to make this year's play the best one yet, but that will require all of you putting your best foot (or paw) forward."

I shivered at that statement. Honestly, I don't think I need to specify what word made me worry. I'll leave that for you to deduce.

"In any case," she continued, "this year's play is based on the story of Zoroark. More specifically, it is titled Zoroark: Master of Illusions. How many of you know the story?"

Slightly more than half of the attendees raised their hands this time. I was not among them.

"I'm pleased that many of you are familiar with the tale already" Angelina asseted. "That'll make things easier. Those of you who do not know the story are encouraged to read the novel Zoroark: Master of Illusions, which is available at most libraries, either in physical or digital format. It is on this novel that the play is based."

I made a mental note to head to the local library and check out that book later. In a perfect world, I'd be able to have it for life, but I didn't want to draw more attention than necessary to the charges on my credit card.

"So for those of you who don't know," Angelina continued, "Zoroark is a Pokémon species, a Dark-type. They have a gender ratio of seven males to every female, and they are native to the continent of Unova. There aren't too many of them elsewhere, though they had a notably lighter color scheme when they existed in Hisui (now Sinnoh) a long time ago, though obviously not very far away.

"In any case, Zoroark are notable for having the power of illusions. Without more than a bit of thought and effort, they can weave illusions over themselves or the nearby environment. They're known to be able to fool criminals, and for that region they're often used by police departments when such organizations engage in sting operations."

Sting operations? Isn't that, like, a form of entrapment? Then again, what do I know?

"We will be casting for this play over the course of the next few weeks, but there are several major roles that must be assigned sooner rather than later, the reason being that they sure as hell have lots of lines to learn."

Just then, an impulse seized me, and I got the idea to ask for a role with lots of lines. If my parents asked me why this was, I would have told them that I wanted to challenge myself, to find out what I could truly accomplish when I set my mind to it.

But, if I'm being honest with myself, one reason (perhaps the main reason) why I wanted a major role was to impress Hayley Hawkeye. If she saw the play, and learned that I'd played one of the biggest roles, she wouldn't be able to help it - she'd be enamored within minutes. What could go wrong?

A lot, obviously. Maybe I trip over my own shoelaces, or forget my lines in front of hundreds of people! That could be a disaster for my reputation!

But I'd give it a go anyway. After all, what was that saying one of the cool boys had told Tim? You miss all the shots you don't take. And hey, it had worked out well enough for him!

"One of these roles," Angelina said, "is the titular character, Zoroark. She's often referred to in the play as 'Meema.' The person who plays that role will need to be comfortable in an elaborate costume, and be able to tailor their voice to the scene at hand."

That's not me, I thought bitterly. I'd probably end up humiliating myself in a big way. I would say that I imagined myself bungling the job, but I barely needed to imagine.

"There are other roles in the play as well," Angelina stated. "For instance, there is the story's antagonist, a businessman named Grings Kodai. Who will play him?"

Right away, my hand shot up.

To this day, I'm not sure exactly what drew me to the role. Perhaps subconsciously, I wanted to play the villain in a setting where doing so wouldn't land me in trouble. That's a possibility.

Or maybe I just wanted to pick a role before I ended up with only one role left. At that point, it wouldn't even be a "choice," just "take it or leave it", unless I wanted to be part of the stage crew. But where would be the fun in that?

"You do!" Angelina exclaimed, and I saw that nobody else had volunteered, which put me in the hot seat. My heart skipped a beat.

"Uh…" I mouthed.

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "If you don't want to play Kodai, why did you raise your hand?"

"I do want to play Kodai," I protested.

"Then don't be wishy-washy," Angelina muttered. "You're Makoto Mutsamudu, right?"

"Yeah." Does she think I'm weird or whatnot? Or…

"Well, congrats on your role in the play" she told me. "I'll give you a sheet to fill out with some information. Then I'll send that to a tailor in the city - can you pay for it with your own money?"

"Yes," I insisted. In reality, I would have to dip into my parents' bank account for that, but considering the cause it was for, they'd surely forgive me…right?

Angelina handed me a clipboard with a biographical form on it. It stated things like my height, waist circumference, shoe size, and other things that would help the tailor know what dimensions to use for Kodai's "business suit."

As I filled out the form, my palms grew sweaty, and I feared that the form might become illegible as a result. I did my best, though - and ultimately, that's all you can do. After all, you miss all the shots you don't take.

DA Woods: You chose to play Grings Kodai, a notorious villain, in the play at your high school.

Mr. Mutsamudu: Is that a question, Your Honor?

DA Woods: Are you stalling for time, Makoto?

Mr. Mutsamudu: What? No! I would never! But yes, I did volunteer for the part, and I was accepted.

DA Woods: Would you say that the reason you selected Kodai's role has anything to do with your propensity for wrongdoing?

Mr. Mutsamudu: I wouldn't. In fact, that's ridiculous. It's just like how violent video games don't cause violence - most people understand that acceptable behavior in a fictional medium is different from acceptable behavior in real life.

DA Woods: Right. That was a stupid question. My apologies.

Mr. Mutsamudu: First time you've apologized all day, Your Honor. Will there be more to come?

DA Woods: Don't count on it.