Music in Media: Man of the Woods by Justin Timberlake

10 January, Monday, 9 p.m. | Winter

A thud against the door woke Rae up. A pregnant silence was soon wheeled in; it gave birth to a series of quick raps she was certain whoever was knocking must've bruised their knuckle in the process.

In her groggy state, she arose, and the world arose with her, though it showed a slight tilt as if the room was ready to orbit around her at any point in time and leave her dizzy. She had to lean against the wall to reach the door. No, it wasn't so helpful when the wall felt no different from the floor and she might as well be rolling her way to answer whoever was on the other side like a Tepig rolling reluctantly out of a mud puddle, fumes spouting out of its nostrils, its ears flat on its head as it stretched its limbs out to graze the air or clean earth so the bulk of its body remained in the mud a little longer. The good news was that she wouldn't be crying "Aomine! Rae! Rae! Aomine Rae!" like a Pokémon, or like the person elbowing the door now. Or maybe not a person. A Pokémon. Anything was possible as long as the senses and the mind made it possible.

"Rae! Wake up!" shouted the voice again, sounding a bit too disgruntled for her liking, though she liked that sense of urgency. It could make a nice alarm ringtone.

She fumbled for the doorknob and slapped it down. Icosa entered her field of vision and shook her till everything stabilised.

"Wh-What..."

"Sorry, but Cheren wants to meet us at the gym." He clasped her hand in his and pulled her out of the room. When Rae steadied herself and walked in step with him, he turned to her and apologised again.

"You don't look good," she pointed out instead, motioning at the bump on the side of his head.

"I hit my head. It's nothing." Icosa looked away and quickened his pace.

"Do you know what's going on?"

Icosa nodded. They took a shortcut to the gym, passing through a tiny backyard with flowers struggling to grow in the cold. Throughout their walk, Rae guessed he would tell her something at least, but when they cut across the playground, she knew he'd rather have Cheren share the news. It was partly why she was surprised to see Lenora still there, having expected to see Cheren only.

"We're going to Floccesy Town. It's a little late, but it's urgent. Besides, Alder—"

"The previous Champion of Unova, Alder?" Rae's jaw dropped. Never would she have thought of crossing paths with someone so influential.

Lenora nodded. "He has some things to tell us. He believes they might help with the situation."

"Can't it wait till tomorrow?" Icosa looked between Cheren and Lenora.

"No," Cheren admitted. "Alder isn't free tomorrow."

To accommodate his schedule, they set off for Floccesy Town, striding through Route 19 and its messy xylophone music. The wild Pokémon were all asleep by now, even the Hoothoot and Noctowl.

Silver moonbeams outlined their figures as they walked. The stars seemed muted, as if a translucent veil, dark as coal, enshrouded the sky despite its endless boundary. Rae thought some unseen force must have draped a cursed cloth over the region and by osmosis the curse was spreading.

"I wouldn't go far as to call it a curse, Rae," said Lenora as she swatted a dangling branch aside for the rest to pass through. She was leading the way, her steps hurried, her breaths steady. "I'm sure Alder wouldn't think of it that way either."

But was it not a curse? Lenora, the one who picked up the Relic Crown, was the one who suffered the most. This was in no way a blessing in disguise. If it was, then Arceus must've been infected with Pokérus.

They reached Floccesy Town at last, a town famous for a clock tower that tells the town's beginnings. Rae wished to understand why the town's slogan was "Prophecy flocks here", but none of them knew either. They only knew that the town was once a grassy meadow populated by people in search of Pokémon, and they all built homes and started living together. The famous battered-looking clock tower rose from behind the Pokémon Centre, its light purple roof dripping with wet hail. The bell was frozen and the clock was missing, probably devoured by the vines reaching skyward from its base.

"Is that because of the music?" Rae nudged Icosa.

"No, it's always been like that," he replied. "But this music..." Icosa drew a breath and gazed at the bell. "It sounds like a chime version of Relic Song played at a lower scale than usual. Everything sounds like a growl."

The rustic and natural beauty of the little town was perhaps its charm, an easy distraction from the music. But it paled in comparison to the orange-haired man in oversized long-sleeved robes waiting for them by the threshold of a house at the northern part of the town. Being a former Champion, Alder, appropriately named, returned to being a man of the woods. His house was plain and made of alder wood with boxleaf eugenias sprouting around the house. The interior was whatever the typical household could use.

Alder greeted them with a big smile and had his grandson, Benga, who bore a striking resemblance to him with their fiery orange hair and traditional getup, bring some tea over for their guests. Two other children were in the house, their snores from upstairs drifting down. Rae found Alder to be as pleasant as the rumours said of him.

When Benga retreated to his room, he sat cross-legged on the floorboards and gave the quartet a sweeping glance. His eyes stopped on Rae, prompting her to introduce herself briefly and deliver a firm handshake.

"If it ain't Rae, Johto's latest Champion!" Alder beamed. "Well, Cheren is an excellent mentor, as is Lenora, so you will grow into one fine Trainer yet!"

Rae thanked him sheepishly before Icosa cut in to inquire about the information Alder was pressed to share.

"Feisty as always," harrumphed Alder. "I'm sure you are all aware the music has changed. I am a part of the League so I do not know what you young'uns have in mind, but I daresay the music is caused by a machine or a Pokémon."

"Impossible," said Lenora, backed up by years of experience in the field, "I've been digging into Unova for so long and I've never found something like the Relic Crown." She presented the item to him. "When I took it out of the Abyssal Ruins, everything changed. I think this caused the musical crisis."

Alder sipped his tea with his eyes gingerly closed. "Look, I do not wish to add on to your burden, Lenora. You are not at fault here. Do not internalise what the public insinuates of you."

"'Fraid it isn't 'bout that," Lenora hissed.

Alder opened his eyes and regarded his guests. "Before the crisis happened, I was sleeping. Now, you know I always sleep and forget things. But this I can't forget. I dreamt of my dear Volcarona. I'm sure even Rae here has heard of its passing." He took her nod as a signal to continue. "In my dream, Volcarona was burning like the sun. Gold and glittering. But all around it was darkness. Darkness and a chime."

"The chime is what we're hearing now in Floccesy Town," mumbled Icosa.

"Right on the money. I could not believe my ears when I heard it as soon as I awoke. I thought I was still dreaming till I saw Benga making breakfast." Alder leant forward and the group inched closer. "Volcarona are sacred Pokémon. They have links to the legends. It is why I vehemently believe that a Pokémon is at work here."

"Why did you mention a machine then?" Cheren asked. "You didn't think..."

Alder produced a grim smile. "Yes. We cannot deny the possibility that Team Plasma might have returned. I know, I know, Ghetsis is still in prison. It's a maximum security prison. And the Interpol have caught the other sages and all the members of Neo Team Plasma who have turned themselves in."

"The Shadow Triad," uttered Lenora, tinged with bitterness.

"Who are they?" Rae asked. Certainly she had heard of Team Plasma and Neo Team Plasma from the news, but who was this new group?

"Three people taken in by Ghetsis after he's helped them. They're forever indebted to him and will do whatever they want for him," informed Icosa. "I read about them in Shauntal's book."

"My," Alder groaned. "Shauntal! She's become an accomplished writer. I remember when she used to overuse commas for ten pages. That was one long run-on sentence."

"Alder," chided Cheren.

"The Shadow Triad. No one has found them. No one knows where they've gone. They might have had something else not seized by the police, or someone else to turn to."

A chill ran down Rae's spine. She glanced at Icosa and he pulled her in for an embrace, hoping to coax her.

"Hey, Unova won't freeze over again."

How different was it when people said "hell won't freeze over, matey!" before they went down? Rae wasn't convinced.

"So they might have a machine or something." Rae stabilised her breaths. "But it's too coincidental that everything changed when Lenora took the Relic Crown."

"Then it seems we do not fully know about the Relic Crown," surmised Alder.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell us?" Cheren scratched his leg, feeling the numbness from sitting cross-legged for some time.

Alder shook his head. "But I believe in you, the younger generation. You will achieve great results and resolve this crisis in time for the regional assessment."

But what is time, if not a slippery slope the hand tries to hold onto, only to have it slide away? Or is it the hand that loses grip?

The four of them left Alder's house with more questions than answers and decided to rest at Floccesy Ranch where the pastoral setting might do them a power of good. The music at the ranch was down to a quarter of its usual speed, turning the quick, lively music that sounded out of a gypsy town band's records at a bazaar into an ominous chamber music with farm bells ringing in the distance. They had time.

It was a time to rest and recharge and think about Alder's proposition. It might just be true that a Pokémon was at work. Or the Shadow Triad. The latter seemed unlikely, however. If they hadn't appeared for a year, why now? Besides, how could they have known when Lenora was going to retrieve the Relic Crown? Assigning a Pokémon as the culprit felt dubious as well. The Pokémon had to spy on her and mess with the broadcast system all around the region while escaping detection and ensuring no one could make any changes to the music.

At this time of night, Lenora received a call from Hawes. It was about the Nacrene Museum. It was vandalised. Red paint splashed all over the walls, artefacts broken, books torn and strewn every which way.

"I will return soon to take care of this," Lenora whispered as she walked to a fence where a Miltank was milking itself, splaying milk on the grass and fence. She stood some feet away from it.

"No, you research about the Relic Crown. I will take care of this," answered Hawes. "I am a white man. They will respect me. Should you return, you will suffer more."

"I did not marry you to use your status, Hawes! Besides, I'm the museum director!"

"Do not use that tone on me, lady! I beg you, I will prove to you that I can be superb."

"You do not have to prove anything to me."

"Please, Lenora," Hawes said, "the Relic Crown is more important. It is the key to solving everything."

"I'll take your word for it. If anything crops up, you jolly well inform me, Hawes."

"I love you."

"Love you."

While Lenora hung up on her husband and skirted round the self-satisfied Miltank, Rae sat beside a haystack and watched Icosa train Whismur by having it snap twig after twig with its cry. He was a harsh Trainer, alright, but he seemed to hold a gallon of fear within him that was now spilling out as cold sweat coating his skin, fear as untapped rage.

"Volcarona is known as the Sun Pokémon. And it was in darkness. I don't like it."

"It sure doesn't bode well," Lenora agreed. "Rae, you should sleep. You must be tired."

"I will. Thank you for your concern." Rae motioned at Icosa with a tilt of her chin. "Cheren, is he always like this?"

"Mean-spirited but on a roll?" Cheren studied Rae's shocked expression, her pallor and trembling lips. "Don't let him know this. He doesn't like people knowing it, but he's training under me because he's afraid of Normal-types. No, he hates them."

"Huh? But he has a Whismur."

"The rest of his Pokémon, according to him, are not Normal-type." Cheren yawned. "He wants to overcome his fear and hatred of them."

"What's wrong with Normal-types?"

Cheren held his gaze at Icosa who was now asking Whismur to break the trunk of a post oak tree. "A Normal-type Pokémon killed his parents. That's all he was willing to tell me." He turned to Rae as a thump sent the earth shifting. "Do not take it personally. He's harder on you because you love and raise Normal-types with care and compassion."

"It must be harder for him."

"It is," Cheren said.

"I wish I could do something for him."

"Your presence is enough."

"Really?"

"Really." Cheren smiled. "Here he comes."

Icosa took his scarf off and folded it into a square before slotting it into his pocket. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh, just about what Alder said," Lenora spoke before Rae could say anything. "You don't believe his late Volcarona could've sent him a message like this, do you?"

Icosa lowered his gaze at a tiny Joltik in the grass. "I believe him. You never ever underestimate a Pokémon, Lenora. They can do things that we can't."

The Joltik spun an Electroweb between charring blades of grass. As the four of them retreated into the inn for the night, courtesy of the ranch owners, the Attaching Pokémon clung to a passing Mareep's fur, soaked up its static electricity and left it motionless in the grass. The Mareep bleated twice before it fell onto its side.

By daylight, when Cheren's phone vibrated for minutes on end, compelling him to wake up, the Mareep was long gone, and the Joltik was curled up under a morning glory, waiting for the next Mareep to pass it by.