hatredcantsaveâ:
Kirika takes off her duffel bag. As she unzips it, her hands begin to frantically search for her phone. ItâsâŠnot there. She can feel the panic rise in her chest.
âI swear I had itâŠâ she says, before following the noise down.
ItâsâŠA Pikachu. Kirika was never used to PokĂ©mon actually existing, but time in Isola has changed that. She takes a deep breath, to calm herself. She kneels down, putting herself at the cute animalâs level. She doesnât do anything else, so not to invade the space of the PokĂ©mon.
she seemed really upset. Really, really⊠he wanted to be able to help, but didnât know what the problem was. when she came closer, he hopped a little closer too, putting his head underneath her hand. it was one of those times when the human couldnât understand him, it was always hard to tell when they would be able to and when not. he went still, ears standing upright before twisting on the spot and reaching into a little bag that he was wearing. a pouch that was big enough to hold the device that everyone was given and put it on the floor, its glowing side pointing upwards. maybe they could figure out a way he could talk through it. humans liked to stick it to their heads and talk into them.
âOh,â Kirika mumbles subconsciously, feeling the fur of the yellow mouse. It wasâŠwarm. And cozy. It made her realize how cold her hand mustâve been for the Pikachu. With a cautious smile, she slowly removes her hand from her head.
Slowly, she picked up the phone. Iâve lost my phone, Kirika types. Have you seen it?











