Recently, I got Pokemon X (Fangirl squeal), and pretty much spend a large majority of my recent time solving every puzzle that presented itself in the game as I came closer to beating the Champion, Diantha.
Among the many puzzles, there was one that was so curious. In Anistar City was an old man residing in a small home, asking for a young Pokemon to take care of, as a companion of sorts. Being naive, I was wondering why he was there – was there a significance of giving him a young Pokemon?
So, what did I do? I gave him a level 3 Pikachu and was quickly back to running into the snow cave to save an Abomasnow from Team Flare. I saw him once or twice after that, seeing that he seemed to enjoy the company and I got the impression that he became sad when he asked if I wanted the Pikachu back.
I left it with him, running back and between places, beating one Gym after another, finally completing the within 3 weeks. It was only recently that I thought about checking on him and the Pikachu that I left with him.
This is what I found (not my character, but the letter’s content was the same):
No one was there. No old man in sight. Just a Pokeball in the middle of the room. I was running around, catching Pokemon of all sorts, battling anyone who came my way and… it never occurred to me that there would be a day in which he was no longer there.
Reading that letter brought reality back. With every new version of a Pokemon game, the developers try to make it more realistically.
In Pokemon X, similar to the previous generations, there would be different colours in the sky for different days. There would be snow for days of which would be consistent with winter times and orange leaves consistent with fall.
And, of course, days would be counted where it was needed. For this one, his days were fading, fast.
It’s like that in the real world. No matter how much fun you might be having, you’re still sacrificing time. Time that could be spent with treasuring moments with people of whom you may never see again. Time that could seem unlimited for some, but obviously limited for others.
This man, we never found out his name. He was a character among the thousand of others. With research, it can be found that his wife had recently passed and that he had become depressed.
Having a Pokemon as company made him happy. In his letter, he expressed his happiness and sadness.
It struck so many chords. It reminded me of relatives of whom I haven’t seen in so long. It reminded me of the older generations, many of whom you could count the days or months they had left on your hands.
It reminded me of friends that I had heard were not in the best shape. It reminded me that, in the darkest times, sometimes a friend is all we need to brighten up the world, even if that world is crumbling right in front of us.
RIP Old Man.