Disclaimer: Satoshi, Shigeru and Kasumi do not belong to me.  The idea behind the story is mine though.
Dedicated to all those who live in fear every day and still thrive.
Archive: Alchemy and Punk Shishi.
Fandom: Pocket Monsters
Written: 11 September 2001

Author Notes:

This was original sent out to the Shishi list with little or not preamble.  That was an error on my part as the author.  To insure that the owner of this site does not incur flames for offering to host this little story, this is why it was written:

I was just getting out of the shower Tuesday morning when the phone rang, it was my husband telling me to turn on the news.  No other explanation, just "turn on the news."  So I ran from the room where I had answered the phone and turned on the TV.

At that time, from my point of view... I kept thinking "it's going to be okay, it's going to be okay, they know how to handle this sort of thing, right?"  I called my husband back in a panic, confiding that I was frightened to do any of the planned outdoor activities my child and I had plotted.  He told me, rather calmly, to not be afraid.  That if I give into the fear, then they have won.

To my four year old daughter, this Tuesday was like any other Tuesday.  She expected it to be like any other Tuesday and despite the attempts of both my husband and myself to explain to her that "something really bad happened"...  If you do not live with small children aged five or younger, it is a delicate situation when bad things happen.  To tell a child a beloved grandmother has cancer is one thing... this was on an entirely different scale.

If a child is dependent upon you as an icon of normality, stability, if they look to you to know that everything in their little world is right then if you cannot get them to understand why you are at the point of emotional collapse, you simply can't...

I was that pillar of stability for my daughter on 11 September 2001.  I knew that when she woke, and I had to face her and try to explain to her what had gone on that I couldn't cry, I couldn't break down, I had to be strong for her.  I could not fear.  And so I gave into the muse, wrote the story, didn't explain it well and then felt horrible for the rest of the day for inadvertently hurting people already in agony with grief and worry.

And yet, I couldn't break.  My daughter and I spent the day doing laundry, making dinner, playing Barbies all to the background noise of CNN.  She kept wanting to watch cartoons...

I wrote my little story not to offend, or to hurt, or to anger, but to cope.  Because I knew that when my daughter woke up, I would have to put on this brave face, that I could not cry for the losses of our nation and that no matter how mommy phrased it, she would not understand.

I wrote that based on my experiences this morning, based on the phone call where my husband told me not to be afraid.  That to fear would let them win.

And they do not deserve to win.  I carried those words in my heart until he got home from work.  

This story is an echo of the events of my morning, only I was alone with my child.

"Shigeru come on, I want to go to the river today," Satoshi's voice tries to pull me from my slumber, but I turn over and sleepily pull the covers over my head.  "Oh fine, be that way, c'mon Pikachuu, let's go eat breakfast."

I hear my lover making noises in the kitchen, attempting to convince me I'd much rather get up and pretend I'm a morning person than stay in bed and soon I drop back off to sleep.

I hear the phone ring, but I figure Satoshi's awake, he'll answer it.

"SHIGERU!"  Satoshi's scream of horror rips through my heart and I'm out of bed and in the living room before another conscious thought goes through my mind.

Satoshi sits on the couch in his bathrobe, dripping wet, Pikachuu held tightly against his chest as she shivers in fear.  His dark eyes are fixed on the television screen where the Manhattan Island skyline of New York City is smoking.  The picture changes and shows the Pentagon.

"What happened?" I ask, slowly sitting next to him.  He's wet, Pikachuu is sparking, this could be bad...

"I was just getting out of the shower," he whispers, clearly in shock. "Kasumi called and I wasn't going to answer it and then something... I did... she told me to turn on the news."

"Do we know anyone in either city?" I ask gently.

He shakes his head no, "Iie... But they are saying that it was hijacked passenger flights and wasn't your grandfather..."

My heart goes cold as I mentally review Ojiichan's itinerary in my mind.  "He landed in Tokyo last night, should be on his way back here by this afternoon."

Satoshi takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.  "Why would anyone do anything like this?" he whispers.

"It's meant to cause fear and panic, that's all it is for.  It's useless, senseless violence."

He lets Pikachuu go and slumps against me, his entire body shaking.  "It worked, I'm terrified," he murmurs into my pyjama shirt.

"You can't let them make you afraid, Satoshi.  If you fear them, then they win."

"Anyone who does this doesn't deserve to win anything," Satoshi says, pulling back and meeting my eyes with fierce righteous indignation in his.

"No, they don't," I agree softly, bringing him back into my arms and holding him tightly.

*owari*