Young Writers Society

The Tall Dark Mysterious Kind

"I used to dream about going on journeys with my little Poliwag, you know...like in the cartoons and video games. All these fantasy places where I could make friends and save the world with Pokemon. It's wild to think that child-like fever fantasies come true these days because of people like Miles and Art."

Hannah sat cross-legged at the top of a set of bleachers, passing a marble back and forth through the alleyways of the bench seats until it stopped in the palm of a boy's hand and came back to her from underneath his thumb, tricked to have a spin on it.

"My dream has always been to be a professional soccer player," said Salem. "Pokemon aren't very common around my town, so if you could imagine it...I almost grew up in a world without Pokemon. All through school, focus was very high on academics and athletics. But one day this Pokemon rehabilitation agency came in and made habitats for pokemon in my area. I met my Torchic one day on the way to soccer practice and have never stopped training pokemon since."

Hannah grinned as though she were a grandmother watching her entire family gather around the hearth at Christmas, thinking of dreams and ambitions...and happiness.

"You know, you're more than welcome to travel with me and my fr--"

"I don't think I am." His voice was the color of dark orange, speckled in texture like rust on a wheelbarrow in the countryside of Hawaii. Her hand folded over the marble. "I've already made a dick of myself, right? Trying to stay perfectly quiet about who I am and how Bismarck was acting?"

"You named him Bismarck?"

"After the German Chancellor."
"After the German Chancellor."

They both smiled. Hannah thought of her friends. Of travelling. Of food. "Would you like to get a bite to eat? There's a great open air grill near our hotel. It has a KELP rating of 5 stars."

Salem shrugged and nodded. "I could eat. But only if you let me pay. To start erasing what happened today."

"Free food never gets a bad rating from this woman. Let's hit it."

By the highway in front of the hotel, the two stopped when they spied Hannah's gang huddled around a display for the Synchron. Connor was excitedly explaining it to everyone else with a voice loud enough to drown out traffic. "--and the grandest part of all is that it connects you to the battle like nothing ever has before! Almost like seeing the entire ordeal through the pokemon's eyes! I'm preordering mine tonight, as I've already confirmed my allowance from Mother and Father back home. I suggest you all do the same."

Hannah nudged Salem in the ribs and nodded towards the restaurant to their left, and they ducked in, stopping immediately as a warm, familiar face in a slim peacoat turned the corner with menus in-hand.

"You're likely to get a fever if you play with the devil, you know." Nathan smirked.

Hannah raised her eyebrows and looked between Salem and Nathan, and then let out a long breath. "We were just coming in to fetch a table for everyone." A huff. "Isn't that right, Salem?"

"I'd rather this not be a thing, so I think...I'm just gonna..." Backing away, he suddenly turned and walked off, hands shoved in his pockets.

Hannah watched him go, but held her tongue until he was out of earshot. Then she didn't.

"What the Hell, Nathan?" Peony and Jasmine approached behind her, but she pushed past Nathan and charged for the bathroom, the only closed-in space of the entire restaurant.

She sat on one of the toilets with her boots up on the lid, same as her butt, phone-in-hand. The doors opened and Cam and Peony came in after her. Ignoring them, she wanted to text her daddy. She wanted some semblance of family with her.



She left her stall and looked at the two girls who'd come after her. "Can we not make a thing of this? Nathan..." She hadn't realized how flustered and conflicted she was until then.

"He wanted to suspend the food wheel for you tonight," said Cam.

"Said he was going to make poke for us in the hotel kitchen, but no one wanted it...so he wanted to wait until we had more open minds."

"But poke is delicious."

"It's raw fish with a vinaigrette."

"Yeah, and you don't fix what's not broken."

Cam came in for a hug. "You've had a weird day, love. I don't think it's smart for you to let your emotions out of their boxes right now. But I do have something I need to tell you."

Hannah looked confused. "Whazzat?"

"Jasmine, Saul, and I are part of the faction moving to Hokkaido tomorrow for the tournament. We're not going to Oz with you."

She took a step back. "D-do the others know about this?"

"We all just found out about an hour ago while you were helping clean the pavillion."

"I...I won't even say goodbye!" She hugged Cam again, tears breaking. "You'll stay on mobile the whole time and make sure I don't miss a beat of what you're doing and how you are and you'll eat good food and have a great time and we won't miss one another because it'll be like. It'll be like we're just. We're just not even apart..."

What did I do?

This question bounced around in Nathan's mind in the hour between when Salem walked away and Hannah fled to the bathroom. He could feel every cell in his body turn him slowly as Hannah shoved him aside and sprinted off, her steps heavy and labored in his mind's stunned eye. He could feel the muscles in his ears convulse as they registered Hannah's sharp words. His mind barely registered the pool of silence that fell over the restaurant patrons.

I was right.

Somebody pushed open the door from behind him; he could faintly hear it creak, but mostly he guessed from the loud footsteps. Nathan turned around to see Peony and Jasmine, the latter reaching out for Hannah (who had already disappeared). They stopped in front of him. He could only focus on their eyes - each looked confused.

What did I do? I was right. Right?

Cam arrived next, shoving open the door casually and sauntering inside. She looked among everyone in surprise, particularly since nobody appeared to be moving. Nathan swiveled around and started to run when he saw Jasmine lean to whisper something in Cam's ear. He felt like everyone was watching him. He could feel their eyes boring down on him, confining him into the space that was his frustrated mind. The menus scattered on the floor as he dropped them.

What did I do? He ran between the tables, aiming for the men's bathroom. What did I do? He flung open the door with one hand and jumped inside. What did I do? He scrambled among the stalls, sliding over the wet tile floors until he found a stall at the end. What did I do? He opened the door and squeezed himself inside. What did I do? He slammed the stall door shut and sat down on the porcelain. What did I do? He pulled out a tiny pokeball from his pocket and pressed the button, causing it to instantly grow twice as large.

Nathan took a deep breath. Part of him wanted to bring out Swirlix, so he could hug the ball of fluff. But he still remembered his fight with Connor, and following the paramedics to the ER booth they had set up outside the stadium, and watching them operate on his beat-up Swirlix, and his running away to hide inside the branches of a tree, and -

The walls of the stall proved hardier than he'd thought. He gripped his reddening hand in his other one and grit his teeth, eyes straining through tears to see the small dent he'd left behind. A moment of panic gripped him as he realized he'd dropped the pokeball onto the floor, but a quick view showed that it was completely unharmed (and, better yet, unopened). With his working hand, Nathan picked up the pokeball, wiped it off on his pants leg, and tapped it. It shrank, and he placed it back in his pocket.

"And all the roads we have to walk are winding/And all the lights that lead us there are blinding..."



Startled, Nathan took a few seconds to snatch his vibrating phone out of his other pocket. He turned it on, entered his security code, and scanned the number that appeared on the screen.

Nathan swore. Of course, he thought, Now is a perfect time. He sighed and pinched his nose. There was no point in denying the call or ignoring it - he'd just get an angrier one later on. The most he could do was close his eyes, clear out his head, and hope he didn't screw up. As such, Nathan pressed the answer button and held the phone up to his ear.

"Hello? Yes. Yes. I was at a stadium, I couldn't hear - no, I couldn't - there should be some videos on the Internet if you want to know how loud it was" - someone walked into the bathroom, opening and closing the door slowly, but Nathan ignored whoever they might be - "Yes. I'll try. I'll be heading there in - no, I won't tell him that. I'm not going to be a part of that game. No, go tell him yourself. You hate a lot of people you talk to, uncle. No, I - fine, I'll tell him. If it makes you happy. Okay. Yes. I will. Goodbye."

Sighing, Nathan slumped over the seat, letting his arm drop towards the ground. He stared up at the ceiling, spotting the dim impression of his reflection staring right back down. Nathan could even see the red in his eyes, the emptiness of the surrounding stalls, the bushel of ginger hair that hovered right outside his -

"Nathan." A bang on the door. "Open up."

Eyes drooping, Nathan focused on the coathanger on the stall door. An impulse in him tried to force out words, but they died long before they reached his parched lips.

"I know it's you. This is the only unoccupied stall, and we all saw you enter."

Nathan shifted himself uneasily, so that he was sitting straight. He couldn't think of anything to say, and the creeping feeling that traveled along his back left him too afraid to try.

"Are you alright?"

No, thought Nathan.

"You can't stay in there forever, Nathan. We're all worried about you." The hinge on the stall creaked, but was blocked by the lock. "We're going to a concert soon. We want you to come. Hannah wants you to come."

Nathan placed his hands over his eyes and sighed.

"I'm told there's going to be fried chicken."

"And she won't come over and tell me herself?" Nathan retorted, voice shaky.

"This is the men's bathroom."

Nathan started to pull himself off of the seat. "Since when would that stop her?"

"...Touche. She's ruffled, though, both about this and the departure of some of our friends."

Now Nathan halted, propping himself against the seat by his arms. "Departure?"

There was an audible sigh. The voice that followed sounded almost mechanical. "Cam, Saul, and Jasmine will be heading towards Hokkaido tomorrow. It appears we won't be able to see them in some time, if at all."

"And this is the last time we'll all be together?" A rising panic started to eat at Nathan again, forcing his arms to shake.

"It appears that way, yes."

After a few seconds hesitation, Nathan took a deep breath and stood up, reaching for the lock. "Tell her I'm sorry," he said as he slid the lock aside. "I didn't like him, and I still don't, but I don't want to ruin this night for her, especially not now." He pushed the door gently open. "I'm sor-"

Hannah pressed the "end call" button on her phone, slipped it back into her pocket, and pulled her ginger wig off her head. "You dummy," she said, smiling and embracing him.



"How can you even sing that right?" Nathan asked as the group slowly traveled through one of the long hallways in the hotel. He walked at the back with Connor, allowing Hannah to take the lead and hopefully guide them to the right room. Of course, Nathan had never given her his room number - she said she knew it from memory - and this was the second time they were walking around this particular floor. Still, if getting lost meant he could talk and be with his friends for just a little bit longer, it was worth it.

Connor looked proud in himself. "Well, there is an easier-to-pronounce version for beginners, but I prefer the original-"

"Connerd!" Hannah called from the front. "Stop being a hipster and keep singing Auld Lang Syne! Waaaait a minute, isn't it June? Connerd, be more pedantic and stop singing!"

Connor rolled his eyes, but jumped into the chorus again.

In front of them, Saul clutched his stomach. "I knew I shouldn't have gone back for that 10th piece of fried chicken."

Cam laughed. "One, never try to outeat Hannah - I thought your previous eating contest would have taught you that - and two, we had to restrain you before you tried to get the 11th. Which you still did."

Shrugging, Saul said, "It's fried chicken!"

As the group rounded a bend and approached the elevator (now Hannah swore she remembered the room being on the 4th floor), Nathan looked behind him. "Do you think we'll see Peony again?"

Connor finished a stanza and thought for a few seconds. "Likely," he said at last, nodding. "She's a contestant, was also sorted into the Honshu group, appears to be friends with Alexis, and allowed us to lead her everywhere today. Unless she absolutely fears us - which seems unlikely, as I believe we haven't done anything to cause that - we shall see her again. Probably sooner than later."

"We've adopted another one," Nathan said sarcastically before he walked on in silence. Eventually, a thought sneaked through his mind, demanding loudly to be heard. Lowering his voice, he leaned over and whispered into Connor's ear, "What about Salem?"

"...Possibly," Connor whispered back, frowning. "I don't know whether he's staying or going to Hokkaido, so I'll have to check. But I can call him whenever I wish, and so can Hannah. He doesn't seem particularly bad, so I expect that he may return."

Nathan didn't necessarily agree with Connor's judgment - though Connor appeared to know Salem better - but wasn't about to start another argument again. Besides, Hannah had finally found the right room, as evidenced by her pulling open the door (Nathan had given her the key).

"B.T.E. said he'd meet us outside the hotel tomorrow, right?" Nathan asked Connor, who had finished his song a short time ago. In the background, Hannah was making a few remarks about how cool the show was, and then tossed a leftover bag of fried chicken into her audience. Saul eagerly caught it, after first tackling at least one other person.

"Heitor," Connor corrected, "And yes, that would be the plan."

The rest of the group began to filter into the apartment, Hannah still at the lead. She coordinated everyone as though she were at the head of a parade.

"And three of us really will be..." Nathan said, trailing off and sighing.

Connor nodded.

"It's been an amazing night, though," continued Nathan. "Something I'd like to remember for a long time."

"For auld lang syne?" replied Connor, smirking.

Nathan nodded and smiled. "For auld lang syne."

Being woken at approximately five in the morning was unacceptable, even if the sun had already started rising. For a moment, Connor thought he'd overslept and was late for his exam, but then he remembered it was Thursday, the twenty-second of June; business studies wasn't one of his subjects, so he had the day off. He would continue his revision for accounting at a more reasonable hour.

"Later, Ma," he mumbled, hugging his pillow and refusing to open his eyes.

Another prod to the back. Connor's drowsiness dispersed sufficiently for him to realise the date was correct but not the year he'd actually finished school the previous year and was in the fifth day of the Pokémon World Tourney. He momentarily regretted his participation, since if he'd spent his gap year at home, at least he would have been able to sleep comfortably and wake at a time of his own choosing.

He reluctantly opened his eyes and rolled over to glare at the responsible party. Hades.

"You're supposed to be sleeping inside your ball. What do you want?"

The Houndour whined, looked at the door, and turned back to Connor. He headbutted his trainer again in an attempt to get him to hurry.

Connor sighed wearily but obliged, rising and casting about for his bags in the dim light. Once he found them, he quietly slipped into the bathroom. He hadn't showered since their eviction three days prior and didn't realise how much he needed to until the hot water ran down his back. Hopefully, Nathan wouldn't begrudge his use of the amenities, especially considering the gang was already intruding on his privacy. He found consolation in that he'd at least had the decency of packing his own toiletries and towels for the tour (though he could never imagine sharing those in any case).

While he would have loved to soak in the heat, Connor resolved to finish quickly, promising himself he'd indulge in a longer shower when he again had his own room. After dressing, he brushed his teeth and would have flossed had Hades not scratched at the door. He gave the sink a quick rinse before replacing his bags in the lounge, nicking the room key, and sneaking out with his dog.

Upon reaching the ground floor, Hades barely waited for the elevator doors to open before speeding across the lobby and exiting the building. Connor gave a wry chuckle and followed. He didn't see to where Hades had run off, but he figured the Houndour would find him easily enough.

Passers-by began populating the streets despite the early hour. Connor was tempted to join them, but unlike his father, he'd never been much of a fan of going out for walks. But the thought did remind him he hadn't yet spoken to his father since leaving Cape Town, so he crossed the road and occupied a bench under a cherry tree. He smiled at drawing a parallel between his last day in Kyoto and his first.

"Hey, Pa."

The man on the other side of the phone's screen beamed, his white beard framing his merry smile. "Howdy, Connor! Your call is a lovely surprise. I was going to retire soon, but I'll set the kettle to boil." The ceiling replaced his face after he put the phone down. From outside the screen, he asked, "How have you been?"

"Isn't "howdy" short for "how do you do"?" Connor teased. "But I've been well. I was thinking of you and realised you had to receive news second-hand."

"Ah, yes! I admit that your mother has been skimpy on the details." Fingers appeared at the edge of the screen before it tilted and his father's face came into view again. "I heard you were hurt during yesterday's event."

Connor gingerly touched the laceration on his forehead and winced; he'd had to take the bandage off before showering. "Yeah, but it was nothing major - I didn't even need stitches. I hope it doesn't leave a scar, though."

Water bubbled in the background and a switch flipped, causing the bubbling to subside and prompting the phone to be placed face-up once more. Sounds of stirring and the clinking of a teaspoon against a cup followed before his father finally moved to the couch and settled down. "It sounds like a long story," he said with a wink.

Hades picked that moment to announce his return with a bark. Seeing Seraph wasn't around, he stared expectantly.

Connor good-naturedly rolled his eyes and lifted the dog onto his lap. "Say hi to dad!" After Hades licked the screen and Connor wiped away the spit with his sleeve, the latter recounted (in as concise a manner as was possible for someone like him) the events that had transpired since his arrival in Japan.

His father made for an enthusiastic audience, bellowing with laughter at Saul's antics, grimacing in sympathy at Nathan's misfortune, and grinning from ear to ear at Connor's achievements. He listened attentively and asked questions when Connor paused, otherwise letting him speak without interruptions. Twice he refilled his cup before they reached the sad end of the story.

Concern etched into his features, he asked, "At what time must you and your friends depart?"

Connor checked his watch. The time read 6:34. "About an hour and twenty-five minutes from now. We all packed our bags yesterday, so we need only board our respective bus or plane."

His father nodded gravely. "Tokyo is an immense metropolis. Take care once you arrive there."

"I shall! Although, we'll only reach it in the evening; we're picnicking by the base of Mt. Fuji this afternoon. It'll be a good opportunity to bond and train." A name tugged at Connor's thoughts and demanded to be addressed. "Now that I've mentioned it, may I ask your advice on something, Pa?"

His father's concern melted away into gentleness. "Of course! What do you need?"

"I convinced Annie MacFarlane that Salem could keep his Bisharp if I supervised him. Is there anything specific I should keep in mind?"

Though Connor hated to admit it to himself, he'd exaggerated his abilities so as not to have his solution shot down in front of Hannah and Salem. While his pride might be intact, he had potentially bitten off more than he could chew. He'd deliberately rushed that part of the story to prevent any questions. How ironic it was that he would eventually broach the subject himself.

His father seemed to read his thoughts, for he replied, "That was definitely a foolish proposition. It's true that you've helped me many times, but you're far from a professional trainer, and the Pokémon we have at the centre aren't expected to battle shortly after they enter our custody. Mrs MacFarlane was correct to be anxious for the boy's safety, since we don't know whether it would turn on its trainer. Yet you can't go back on your word, so you'll just have to be careful.

"You already know everything about Bisharps as they behave in the wild: they are fiercely territorial and pitiless, meaning kindness will only hinder your attempts at rehabilitation. The only thing they respect is skill, so you and your two friends must remain confident and instruct it fearlessly. If it disobeys, have the boy, Salem, battle it. His command over his own Pokémon should reflect well in the Bisharp's eyes, and if it displays only indifference, being defeated will put a swift end to that.

"Despite this, it is not to be treated unfairly. Coercion should be a last resort, and commanding it in battle is entirely out of the question until it has become fully obedient. If your friend remains firm but just in his demeanour, it ought to grow to trust him. Just give it time."

Connor wished he'd brought his notebook along. He reminded himself to write the advice down later. "Thanks, Pa. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

His father's face remained serious, however, leading Connor to believe there was more to come. How else had he misstepped?

"There's also the matter of the Venomoth you caught. Have you named it? Have you even spoken to it since its capture?"

Connor lowered his gaze, ashamed. "No, I haven't. I tried to feed her twice, but she kept fluttering around and shooting beams at me or anything else in the area. I had to recall her both times before I could accomplish anything."

Hades disliked his trainer's tone and sniffed Connor's neck. He put a paw on his chest and whined, but Connor removed the paw and looked back to his father.

"Then I suggest you and Salem both use today's picnic to get acquainted with your Pokémon. The way you bonded with Cethrys is admirable, but you must show that dedication to all those under your care. Favouritism ultimately breeds resentment."

"Yes, Pa."

"There's one last question I have to ask."

At that stage, Connor wished he was a Goomy and could melt into a puddle. "Yes?"

"Why did you want to send Venomoth and Cethrys to your mother and me?"

The softer tone surprised Connor. He looked directly at his father again. "What do you mean?"

"Though her words were sparse, your mother at least mentioned that your battles had been recorded and uploaded to the World Tourney's website. Anyone who's watched them could see your Scyther clearly loves you. Why would you want to send him away?"

"I..." Connor thought about it and realised he didn't have an answer. "I guess because I'd set out to build a team of only canines."

"Are you willing to cast away a bond that strong for a simple ideal?"

Connor opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Was he willing to do that? The previous day, the answer would have been simple, but now...

His father raised his hand in a halting gesture. "Think on it. When you have an answer for me, share it. I will respect your decision." He looked to the clock Connor knew hung above the stove. "It's nearly midnight. I should go to bed and you should return to your friends."

"All right," Connor replied, subdued. "Thanks again for the advice."

"And thank you for calling." The old man smiled. "Don't dwell too much on what we've discussed. Enjoy the day!"

"I'll try. Good night, Pa. I love you."

"I love you too, Connor."

The screen went black before jumping to a wallpaper of Table Mountain. Connor pressed the lock button and placed his phone on the bench. He reached up to his neck, pulled a silver heart locket from beneath his shirt, and popped it open to gaze at the smiling faces of his parents. He smiled back at them.

Hades sniffed the locket before lowering his head and nuzzling his trainer's collar. Connor closed the locket and replaced it before pulling another locket, gold that time, from its hidden spot. Popping it open too, he gazed at two other laughing faces. His smile faded.

He sighed and snapped it shut. Addressing Hades, he said, "There's no point in contemplating lost possibilities. Wearing this is already too much."

The Houndour stared at him for a few seconds before huffing and settling in his lap. Connor stroked him and unlocked his phone. A purple Brave Heart slowly twirled in the upper right corner. He mentally acknowledged it before opening the Pokémon app and following the link to the website.





Connor's pulse quickened. Last-minute changes to the tourney roster? Did that mean...? He hastily opened the list and scrolled down, checking the relevant names as they appeared.

Alexis Fortin: Tokyo, Honshu
Camille Weaver: Sapporo, Hokkaido
Connor Redreed: Tokyo, Honshu

Thank goodness, that hadn't changed. He breathed a sigh of relief. But had any of the others been affected?

Hannah Cole: Tokyo, Honshu
Heitor Heliodoro: Tokyo, Honshu
Jasmine Cicero: Tokyo, Honshu

Oh, Jasmine had been swapped? Connor grimaced at the thought of having to make more food wheels simply for them to be rendered void by Murtle. At least Hades would get a rematch eventually.

Nathan Davis: Tokyo, Honshu
Saul Wilson: Sapporo, Hokkaido

Though he wished Cam and Saul had also been switched over to join the rest of their friends, it was a small blessing that they wouldn't be all on their own. But still, they'd be separated. Cam wouldn't take it well. None of them would, really.

A name above Saul's caught Connor's eye. After reading the text beside it, he scrolled up to another name that came to mind. Both revealed fortunate tidings.

Peony Leon-Mao: Tokyo, Honshu
Salem Cyrus: Tokyo, Honshu

Alexis and Hannah would be delighted. Connor knew Peony would be equally pleased, but what about Salem? Had he perhaps hoped to escape and start anew? Connor retrieved his contact on an impulse and decided to text him.





To Connor's immense surprise, his message's status went from "received" to "read" within seconds of being delivered. Suddenly anxious, he wondered what he had wanted to say next.





Connor waited to see if he would get a response, but when the silence stretched out awkwardly, he guessed he would not. Rereading his messages, he realised he sounded a bit self-righteous.





Knowing better than to expect an answer that time, Connor quit the app and locked his phone. Hades, who had been peeking at the screen, looked up and wagged his tail.

"Stop that!" Connor said, laughing. "You're tickling my leg."

His phone buzzed. When he checked the screen, it read,





Hades started barking and attempted to lick Connor's face. Connor shoved his phone into his pocket with one hand and held his dog at bay with the other.

"Gross! I don't want your slobber all over my face." He grabbed Hades around the middle and held his back to his chest. Struggling to hold the wriggling pup, he laughed and said, "I'm gonna put you down and then we can go wake those hooligans we call friends if they aren't up already. Sound good to you?"

Hades barked affirmatively, so Connor set him on the ground. The dog spun in a circle before barking up at him again.

Connor rose and checked both ends of the street before crossing. "Yes, you may lick their faces if they're still asleep. The past few days considered, it'll probably narrow down to poor wasabi-breath."

Crouching on the carpet of his hotel room, Heitor gave a critical gaze to the red-colored pair of robotic toy legs in front of him. “T’en pense quoi?” he whispered to Scales, the Skorupti comfortably perched on his bare shoulder, which displayed an equally focused look. An imitation of a thoughtful “hmm” came out of the little scorpion’s throat as it moved its tail towards the right leg, pointing at a slight outgrowth, barely noticeable from an untrained eye’s point of view.

“Ah, ouais…” Heitor admitted. “J’ai un peu forcé, ici...”

“Your turn, Dot.” a voice suddenly interrupted, coming from the computer standing alone on Heitor’s working table.

“How many minutes d’you grant me?” Heitor inquired, delicately taking the rest of the body parts resting in the Gundam: Epyon box placed next to him.

“Battle time says sixty minutes.”

“I mean you, Trans.”

“Ten.”

Heitor grinned. “How generous of you!”

“Well, at least one of us has to be gentlemanly here, considering you’re rudely multi-tasking.”

Heitor rolled his eyes and rose up, staring at the computer – and the image of Transmission on the screen. His torso was bare, and a yellow towel had nonchalantly been placed around his neck like a fancy wet collar. He delicately took his already remade braid and lifted it in front of the screen, giving Transmission The Look, as a simple reminder that the “man” part of “gentlemanly” was questionable for him to begin with, anyway.

“...Right, tomgirl, I get it.” Transmission capitulated, also rolling her eyes. “But seriously, at least put a shirt on now, you’ll catch a cold or something.”

“Later, and no, no I won’t.” Heitor replied. “No need to worry, m’dear: I’m quirky, I’ve always been quirky, and according to yourself, you don’t mind ‘cause you’ve seen male chests before.”

“And before you say it, yes, I know, it’s my fault for wanting to battle so badly despite you warning me that you were shirtless. I just didn't think you'd stay the whole session without it.”

“Nah, wasn’t gonna say it.” Heitor assured. “The test is fun, and I kinda forgot to put it on. Although I will say that the video chat really wasn’t necessary. Isn’t my voice beautiful enough?”

“I… prefer seeing the people I’m talking to. I’m not a phone person.”

“Interesting.” Heitor approached the computer and put his hand on the mouse, gazing at the chosen team locked away in the virtual space of Pokémon Showdown. An Alakazam was facing his Swampert, named Aqua-Mad. By now, Heitor was already used to Transmission’s bizarre strategies, so, he expected her to go for a setup move despite how dangerous that would be in front of a Swampert. Which was the reason why he clicked on the Focus Punch button, exclaimed a “Your move, creep!” and turned back. “Oi, Lippa! Music, please.”

Lippa, was sitting in a corner of the room, with recently bought color buckets for her to paint on the large blank sheets of paper spread all around her. She moved her tail above the phone next to her and clicked on its “Play” button, allowing a funky disco music to softly invade the room.



he jerked her head towards the sleeping Bayleef next to her, but clearly, she didn’t seem bothered by the noise at all.

“Thanks, girl." Heitor approved, before gazing at Nayadium. "Naya, arranja as folhas, por favor. Sempre em frente.”

Nayadium the Bayleef immediately opened an eye, briefly stretched her body, then grabbed the sheets behind Raichu and replaced them in front of her. Lippa offered her a thankful smile, to which Nayadium replied with a gentle scratch of her leaf on Lippa’s cheek, before casually moving back to her previous position. Heitor couldn’t help but let a tender smile grow on his face. Lippa hadn’t had any trouble adapting to Heitor’s companions, and they had accepted her just as easily. A tiny vibration attracted his attention: Scales, still on his shoulder, emitted a prideful sound, gazing on the scene as well, gazing at the other two with the satisfied gaze of a smiling army general.

“How many languages d’you speak, Dot?” Transmission inquired. “Your turn, by the way.”

Heitor turned on his heels in a graceful movement, walking back to his computer and leaning against the table. “Three! Three languages. Scales was caught in France, Nayadium was given to me from an egg in Portugal and spent a chunk of her childhood there. Then, well, Lippa’s just Lippa.” Heitor’s smile disappeared as he read the info Showdown’s battle history gave him: Transmission’s Alakazam had used Trick, exchanging his item with Aqua-Mad’s. An item that happened to be a Flame Orb.

“Clever girl.” Heitor whispered, grinning again.

“...Jurassic Park. Huh. I actually got that one.”

“It’s one of my more well-known references.” Heitor watched as the “not very effective” version of Focus Punch hit Alakazam and did next to no damage, as the Burning effect cut Aqua-Mad’s attack in half. Then, the Alakazam performed Seismic Toss, further crippling the Swampert.

“That was a mistake.” Heitor said. “You should’ve gone with Psychic immediately.”

“With the burn effect and the coming Psychic, your Aqua-Mad’s not surviving this turn, also.”

Heitor’s grin grew larger as he clicked on the next attack: Mirror Coat. He watched as the Alakazam – which clearly hadn’t spent his IVs and EVs in the right places – used Psychic, nearly defeating Aqua-Mad, but then have the surprise of being KOed by Mirror Coat.

“...Wait, it can LEARN that?!” Transmission exclaimed, eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re not the only one with unpredictable movesets, m’dear.” Heitor replied, just as the Burn effect from the Flame Orb took the last of Aqua-Mad’s health points. “Had you used Psychic both times, you would’ve KOed my Aqua-Mad and saved your Alakazam.”

“That is very frustrating.” Transmission said in an exasperated tone. “Tabernak lost against Lippa specifically because I did something like that.”

“I was about to mention it, yes.” Heitor agreed. “Not sure where you got this instinct, but track down its origin and kill it.” A sudden beeping resounded in the air, and Heitor took the watch he had abandoned next to his computer. “Ah! It’s time. Guess we’ll call it a draw.”

“Wha- Oh, right. Your gathering. Well, you go and enjoy that. You should stop working on that robot of yours, also. You wouldn’t want to be late.”.”

Oh, don’t worry about Epyon, m’dear, I’m almost done with him. Obviously he’s not as important my as my other friends. D’you like Gundams, by the way? Or LBXs, but they’re not as well-known.”

“I watched a few Gundam animes, I think… And then I hear the games are pretty cool, but that’s about it.” Transmission shrugged. “Not enough of a fan to buy myself toys and build them. I'm more of a JoJo fan.”

“Oh, we are going to be FRIENDS." Heitor exclaimed, laughing softly. "Gundam toy-making is great for focus, though. I’ll try and get you one during the trip. Who knows, maybe that Kadabra of yours will like it.”

“Oh, Ovassion? Yeah, he’s more of a puzzle person.”

“Which is precisely the type of skills required to build these.” Heitor exclaimed. “Now I’m definitely getting you one of those.”

“Hmm... He'll probably love the challenge, so, thanks in advance. But then, if Gundams are so great for focus, why d’you multi-task with them? Isn’t that gonna ruin the robot? Or are you just trying to impress me?”

“Please, I try to impress everyone. Though I don’t think making a custom robot while being shirtless falls in that category – I like to multi-task, and you’re a fun distraction. And as it happens, I don’t use my body to get distractions interest in me.”

“Ah, so you just have no decency, then.”

“Yup, yup, yup!” Heitor leaned forward, pointing a finger towards Transmission. “And next time, we’re turning this conversation over to your side, m’dear. There’s more I’d like to know about your own quirks.”

“Is that the moment when you’d say ‘to be continued’?”

Heitor and Scales shared a glance and a nod. “Elle apprends vite.”

Transmission finally smirked. “I’ll take that as a yes. You should go, by the way.”

“Right. See you for the next social session!”

“Bye. Way too early in the morning, but it was fun.”

Heitor smiled along. “Agreed, m’dear.” he waved Transmission goodbye, then closed the connexion and turned off his computer. Turning back, he noticed that Lippa had been staring at him with a pout, tapping her foot on the ground as she pointed her tail towards the Bluetooth speaker and the soundless phone next to it.

"...Oh, right." Heitor whispered. "Sorry, girl. Switch to Let's Boogie, will ya? It's time to suit up in style."






“...Let’s dance!”

“Ra-a-a-a-hai!”

“Two funky cops, and we get him now! Let’s boogie! Let’s dance!”

“Ra-a-a-a-hai!”

Heitor looked away from the mirror, crouched to Lippa’s level and poked her nose. “We were on the floor: we don’t mess around!” he pulled out a Safari Ball and moved it on top of Lippa’s head, where Scales was comfortably placed. The little Skorupti closed its pinch and performed a fist bump with it, letting its green ray warp him inside. Nayadium was already sleeping inside her own Poké Ball, and as usual, Lippa would be the one to remain outside – after all, she still had to get used to visiting the world as much as Heitor’s other partners.

“Let’s boogie… Let’s dance...” Singing softly, Heitor grabbed his shoulder bag, and gazed in the mirror: the girlish image of a slim, dark-skinned boy smiled back at him, wearing his favorite sleeveless dark green vest, each of the inside and outside pocket occupied with one items from his collection, and his mid-long braid decorated with a blue ribbon at the end. Matching dark green jeans covered the legs, black boots secured the feet, and a red-colored bandana with the sadistic smile painted on it covered his neck. Frowning, Heitor re-arranged the new addition to his attire: one of the Oni masks he had bought during the trip. This one was orange in color, was decorated with a hideous grin, and a cat-like face with sharp yellow eyes. He placed it on the side of his face, slightly tightening the strap hidden by his black hair.
Perfect.

But, as per usual, something was done to prevent Heitor to make a perfect exit, this time in the form of his phone ringing. Grinning cynically, Heitor gazed at it to see who had sent him a message.


From Mãe:

Bom dia, meu querido. Tudo bem? Gostas da viagem?


Heitor blinked. Oh, right. He still hadn’t told her mother how the tournament went. Nor how well the trip was going. Nor if he had met the friends he was supposed to meet.

“Rai?”

Heitor gazed at Lippa’s interrogative face. Then, back at his phone. Then back at Lippa, and finally, he let out a chuckle. “It would be unfair to say that it’s your fault, girl, as we both know it’s not.” he said, gently petting her head. Then, his smile disappeared as he froze, gazing into Lippa’s eye with an emotionless, thoughtful glare.
No. She was just the current distraction. But how long would she last? What would be the next one to replace her? Would he even notice? Would he… even care? Weren’t these questions he had already answered to, time and time again?

“R-Rai? Raichu?”

Heitor blinked, noticing the concerned look of his Pokémon. He rose, turned back and walked towards Lippa’s drawing place: next to the abandoned white sheets filled with colored was the drawing she had completed. Lippa had represented herself as an orange stickman with stubby arms and legs, with a Raichu tail coming out of its lower back and golden, arrow-shaped thunderbolts coming out of it in all directions. Below her was a massive figure shaped like a smiling Camerupt rearing up, with an abundant amount of red, orange and dark brown coming out of its volcano-shaped humps. The head of the stubby stickman riding it featured typical Raichu ears, and it featured big, round cyan eyes, and a wide, black grin, going from one side of the face to the other.

“...Raichu?” Lippa inquired, gently tapping on Heitor’s leg with her paw.

Heitor gazed at the background. There was a podium, colored in light gray. And there a stickman representing Heitor, with its braid and dark brown skin. But it was simply looking at her from afar. With cyan eyes, too. The stickman had a giant shadow in front of it, and that shadow had one, vertical eye, colored in white. Both the stickman and its shadow struck Heitor vividly, and that for a simple fact.

Neither of them had mouths to smile with.

Heitor gazed at his partner, but Lippa was still confused, still concerned. She couldn’t answer him if he asked. Not just yet. He let a bright, honest smile decorate his face. “It’s like I told you, girl.” Heitor said in a joyful tone. You’re beautiful.” He put a hand to her cheek. Gradually, a smile appeared on Lippa, mirroring Heitor’s. She put her paws on the hand and let out satisfied chirps for several seconds, rubbing her cheek against it. Heitor slowly removed his hand and took one of hers as they finally walked off. They were filled with questions, filled with concerns. But filled, too, with a joyful, impish glee.






“Rai! Raichu-u-u-u!”

Heitor gazed down at Lippa as they walked, avoiding the numerous people that were still outside – Heitor was glad that Japan cities being always busy no matter the hour wasn’t false advertisement. “What is it, girl?” he asked. “Something caught your eye?”

Lippa pointed her free paw to one of the stores: its light was opened, as it displayed several Pokémon-related items. Among them, he could a variety of Evolutionary Items, and battle ones.

“Ooh, is that a King’s Rock?” Heitor said, approaching the store, and spotted the golden-colored crown. “Hey, Trans has a Slowpoke, right? Maybe we can buy her one of these, if she’s cool with that.” He gazed at the stones, then frowned. There was one that looked like nothing he’d ever seen before. It was a glittering black stone, with a golden symbol painted on it, which took the shape of an elaborate knot split in the middle to form an “8.”. under the item, Heitor could read: “Link Stone. On Display, soon to be available.” Heitor immediately pulled out his phone and did a quick search for the Link Stone. “Oh, right!” he exclaimed, before gazing at a curious Lippa. “It’s that new thing that allows ‘Mons that previously evolved only with trading to evolve freely, while still belonging to their trainers. Trans mentioned getting one for her future Alakazam.” Heitor put his phone back in his pocket, and glanced at the display once more, noticing an Assault Vest among the items. “Hmm… Duly noted. Let’s go, girl!”

“Rai-Rai!”

Holding hands once more, the duo marched on until they reached their destination: the entrance to the hotel his wonderful friends had told them they resided in. Checking the time, he realized that he still had thirty minutes before the clock hit 6 Am. He couldn’t help but chortle, cynically congratulating himself for not participating in the karaoke session and leaving early at the mere sight of fried chicken, fleeing like the traitor to clichés he liked to be. He was strangely full with energy, and wasn’t entirely sure why. He casually put a hand to his hair, wondering how many spins he should try and aim for with his braid, until he noticed the distinctive sound he had learned to hear when Lippa was highly concerned. He looked down, and noticed that she was staring, not at him, but at the little circular item that decorated his right ear since his leaving. Heitor touched his purple Synchron with the tip of his fingers. “What’s wrong, girl?” he whispered. “You don’t like the color? Sorry if it’s that. I wouldn’t gone with orange, but I pre-ordered a few days before meeting you – I sorta knew I’d want one.”

Lippa kept on staring as her cheeks emitted that sizzling sound again, but with no electricity showing. Just like in the tournament.
The tournament.

“Oh, god, you’re having Pokémon PTSD.” Heitor realized, letting out a knowing sighed as he knelt in front of his partner. “Look, girl. I love you, ‘kay? Nothing will change that. You’re beautiful – that, too, isn’t gonna change. I’m not in this for winning, I’m in this for fighting, and having fun while doing so. I will only be mad at you if you clearly didn’t give it you all. But you did! So, I’m not mad. Now stop worrying about that loss. You’ve had your fun, and so did I. We’ll get other occasions to win, and you know it.”

Lippa looked on the ground and slowly nodded. Then, she walked towards her Trainer until her head gently bumped his leg. She then wrapped her stubby arms around it.

Heitor sighed again, suddenly realizing again that Lippa came to him as a Raichu. He had wondered why, but now he wondered how. How had she come to be a Raichu already. He hoped nothing too grave had happened in her past for her to be so… concerned about things, already. With that thought in mind, he pulled hos phone yet again, swiped away the New Message he had received, and went straight for his Emails. He smirked as he once again read the few lines provided in it:

Prepare for Trouble, and make it Double! The Orre Grids, famous Double Battle events created in Arizona, are partnering up with the Aurum League to promote the upgraded release of Synchrons! Check the dates, and never miss an event near you!

The “Orre Grids”. A series of trainers running around a given public place in teams of 2 to perform double-battles, streamed online for all to see. Now with Synchrons. Heitor couldn’t help but chuckle excitedly. With the Aurum League financing it, it would probably happen all over the world, instead of being a limited American event. Heitor casually patted on Lippa’s head with his free hand. Spotlight, action, battles and exercise – no matter which of these Lippa was into, she would definitely get her high spirits back.



And the Quote credits go to...!

Buses are the real friendship-makers

Peony

Peony had definitely thought this through. She had arrived to the bus station early, caught Alexis's group, and plopped herself in the boarding line right behind the other girl so that they would be seatmates on the five hour ride to Mt. Fuji. After all, Peony still didn't feel quite like she could handle five hours with any of the other people in the group. If it was absolutely necessary, she could maybe sit with Nathan or Hannah.

She got a window seat next to one of the third-place guys, and Alexis had the aisle seat on the other side of the bus, one row back. So. Clearly Peony miscalculated somewhere.

As the guy--was he Heitor or Connor?--slid into the aisle seat, Peony fidgeted with the pins holding her braids up. She watched him sit, observed as he pulled a long braid over his shoulder, so that he wouldn't have it against his back while seated, and shifted her drawstring bag so it was further away from him and his braid.

"Hello there, m'dear," the guy said. "It's alright if I sit here, yes?"

She nodded. "Yep. It's cool." Not cool. How was she supposed to talk to him!?

Whisk and Socket had a collective sixth sense for long, hanging hair. Hopefully they wouldn't come out on the bus and cause a ruckus by attacking this guy.

"So I saw you with the group last night, but I don't think we ever properly introduced ourselves." He stuck out one hand, a relaxed grin on his face. "I'm Heitor. It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

"Peony," she replied, taking his hand. "You may want to pin your hair up. I have some bobby pins if you need them."

He tilted his head, and his brain swung a little. Peony eyed it warily.

"Now why would I need to do that? Not that I'm against it-" he shook his head, which made the braid move again "-but I'm curious."

Peony felt like that little blue ribbon tied on the end was just a teensy bit enticing. If she was a cat, she'd bat at that. She gave a nervous laugh. "Ah, well. I uh. My pokemon might come out and play with your braid."

"That sounds absolutely adorable!" Heitor whisper-shouted. And his braid swung. Again.

Well yeah, it sounded adorable. Personal experience told Peony that a) little pokemon playing with her hair was painful and b) Socket was tolerable, but Whisk attacked like a vicious monster. She sent Heitor a grimace. "It's not cute. I promise."

Heitor leaned forward just a little, braid moving again and mouth opening like he was about to reply, but Peony reached out and snatched his braid, cutting him off. She wouldn't admit to the vague satisfaction she felt from catching the ribbon.

"Seriously I have a whole altoid tin of pins on me. Just let me do this."

He laughed, thankfully. Peony suspected this would be an awkward situation otherwise. "It seems like your pokemon aren't the only ones who like to play with hair, m'dear."

Nevermind that statement was super embarrassing.

She pretended that she was not at all embarrassed and giggled like she thought Heitor was funny. Which he was, make no mistake, but Peony's cat-like tendencies were a sore spot. "Just twist around a little," she told him, opening up her drawstring bag and rooting around for the pin box.

First mistake: letting Heitor's braid hang down his back. Second mistake: opening her bag.

In two bright flashes, Whisk and Socket materialized in her lap, and immediately, both had pounced. Peony winced in empathy when she noticed Socket's claws puncture Heitor's shirt. Hopefully the little shinx wasn't sparking at the moment. That hurt even more than Whisk's scratching.

Heitor tried to twist around, see what had just attacked him, and suddenly the little cat pokemon were clambering over him, claws digging in for purchase, to follow the trail of the blue ribbon. He laughed again, and Peony frowned, struck by how nice his laugh was, like beach-boy-movie-star quality, which clashed somewhat with the girlishness of his looks. She kind of wished her laugh sounded like that.

"I thought you said this wasn't cute!" he chuckled.

Peony pulled the pin box out and rattled it a little, catching her pokemon's attention. As much as they liked playing with hair, Whisk and Socket understood that when the bobby pins came out, the claws came in. It was a habit drilled in by Peony's mom's Delcatty.

The cat pokemon settled down, crowding around Peony's legs as she plucked out a few pins from her box and stuck them between her teeth.

"So what 'do are you giving me?" Heitor asked, still chuckling. "The same as yours? We could be braid buddies or something."

Peony picked up his braid and examined it. He had done a good job with the plaiting. "I mean, if you have more ribbon, I could give you my hairstyle. Do you want that though? You look like the kind of dude who gets called girly a lot."

And of course, Heitor took the comment in stride, even as Peony turned red at the thought of possibly bringing up some sensitive topic.

The corners of his lips turned, and his easy smile turned fierce. "About four hundred and seventeen times this year, so yes, all the time. But hey, just because I look it doesn't mean I'm actually girly, ya know?"

Peony looked like an athlete and was an athlete, so no, she didn't quite know. But she figured he made some sense. Most people didn't take the discus girls for athletes, though they could deadlift like four Peonies at once.

"Do you mind if I take out this braid?" she asked. "I'll have to do pigtails for us to match. I could do a crown with just the one braid, but it won't look as nice."

"Oh, go for it. Do you want me to retrieve the extra ribbon now or?"

"Now would be best," Peony replied. She tugged off the ribbon already in Heitor's hair and handed it to him while he dug through his bag.

And then, because Heitor apparently understood Sleepover Code and knew to start chatting about deep and meaningful things while Peony braided his hair, he asked her a deep and personal question:

"Just out of curiosity," he started, pulling out three more ribbons with a flourish, "why cat pokemon?"

She blinked. "Uhh... what?"

"Well, Connor likes his canines, and judging from your team, I'd say you like cats. So any particular reason?"

As Peony split Heitor's hair down the middle, she scrunched her face. "Not really? I just never got along with any others, and never wanted to. Whisk I hatched and Socket adopted us instead of the other way around."

"I'm going to take a guess and say you haven't battled much."

"The ones during the vivillion search were my first, actually-

Wait. Hold up. Peony did not mean to let that slip. What kind of kid went sixteen years without trying a pokemon battle? She grimaced and tugged the first braid a little too tight.

"Ah, don't like battling?"

"I ran track and cross country and lied to my parents about winter battling club at school so I could train more." Peony held out her hand and tied a little bow at the end of the braid as soon as Heitor placed the ribbon in her palm. "It's not that I dislike battling. I just would rather do other things. Although now that I'm here, I regret not practicing."

She started on the second braid and looked out the window, where the big city had dropped away to residences on either side of the highway.

"Do you want me to help you? There's no substitute for experience, but I could give you a few pointers. Lippa could help your shinx train, and I know a number of tactics for cat pokemon in general."

Peony paused. "Really? Would you? I wouldn't be dragging you down or anything?"

"Of course not!" Heitor laughed. "We're braid buddies now, m'dear. I'd be happy to help."

Smiling to herself, Peony resumed braiding. "Thanks." And then she registered that she'd just spilled her guts about battling and cats.

At least Heitor didn't seem like he'd make fun of her.

"What do you mean you lied to me?!" Hannah and Connor had taken to the back of the bus to have a private conversation, displacing several Japanese businessmen who all seemed to wear the same outfit.

Connor raised his hands--partially in self-defense--and lowered his tone to a whisper. "Could you please not cause a scene? It was...a minute exaggeration of relative truths."

Hannah froze.

"Alright, bloody fine, I lied." He shook his head. "But you and I both know that Annie would have taken Bisharp away from Salem if there was no intervention."

Hannah sunk into her seat, deflating. "But what if he does to other pokemon what he did to Charlie? You can't out-train that." She huffed. "And I doubt you can out-train Salem."

"Yes, that will be an obstacle..." He bit down on his thumb gently as his feet rose to join him in the seat.

"What are you doing?"

"Raising my deductive reasoning. If you'd read up on detective work, you'd know--"

"Hush it. I can't train you and Salem."

Connor's eyes brightened. "That's it! Hannah, you've got it! Salem can't out-train Bisharp, I can't out-train Salem, but you can!"

Hannah poked her lip out a bit, though a smile--or the residue of one--was lingering in her dimples. "So the way to ensure Salem stays safe from himself and in tip-top shape for Bisharp is to turn him into a proper rival." Her teeth showed in a proper grin. "Testing his mettle at every turn! Just the thought of it makes me want to battle right here, right now!" She jumped over the seat in front of her and stamped her feet in the middle of the bus. "SALEM CYRUS! I CHALLENGE YOU TO A BATTLE!"

Salem looked up from a comic book that showed a page where a man in a black suit punched a clown. It looked familiar, but trademarked.

"You...want to battle me now?"

"I'm declaring this a Battle Bus! One vs. One! Winner gets ¥500!" She tossed a pokeball out, producing Electabuzz.

Salem got up from his seat and shrugged. "Okay. I'll take your money. It's not like we got to spend it on food last night or anything." He produced a Luxury Ball that produced a Combusken--a fiery chicken brawler pokemon. Size-wise, he and Electabuzz were about the same, and both enjoyed close combat.

"Let's get the upper hand first, Papaya! Thunder Wave on his legs! Let's keep him in stasis!"

"Not so fast, chick--Ravana! Get in there with a Double Kick!"

As Electabuzz gathered energy in his fists, Combusken ran forward, juking side-to-side as the bus turned around corners. At an impasse, the two collided, and both fell back several meters.

"Papaya!"
"Ravana!"

"Dear passengers, we have arrived at Mt. Fuji, so please get the pokemon battle out in the open!

The battle poured out into the clearing where cherry blossom trees littered the ground with gorgeous pink. Combusken shot out embers from his beak while Electabuzz countered with Thundershocks from his fists. It looked, finally, like the two were ready to take it into close quarters--which turned into a display of martial arts.

Electabuzz had burn marks all over from Combusken's swift kicks, and Combusken was slowing down as the shocks of electricity got ahold of his muscles, causing cramps and clamping his movement.

As the two wrestled to the ground, Electabuzz came up with the upper hand (literally) and brought the winning Thunderpunch down on Combusken's torso.

Salem looked on with what Hannah first read as disdain, but then realized as pride--he was smiling. "You don't pull any punches, do you?"

"Not a single one, ever."

"Are all your pokemon as strong as Papaya?"

"Every single one. And all those yet to come, too."

Connor and the others walked into the cherry blossom field while the two recalled their pokemon. "It looks like a trip to the Pokemon Center is in order."

Jasmine corrected him in a deadpan. "According to the sign, we're headed to the Pokemon Center, Synthetic Hot Spring, and Tiki Lounge." With an eye-roll, she sighed. "Why don't I just give you some medicine? It'll be better for them, anyway."

Hannah looked to Salem.

Salem looked to Hannah.

Looks like this journey...

“I cannot believe the Japanese allowed this!”

After Jasmine had administered her bitter herbs, Hannah had shouted, “Rush B!” and dashed for the tiki lounge. The rest of the group had resignedly followed, while Connor moped from the back. Even after most of them had taken seats at the bar and ordered tropical drinks, he’d refused to join them and seated himself at the closest bench.

“It must be doing well if it’s still here,” Alexis suggested, trying but failing to get Peony’s Shinx out of her hood. “And if the locals don’t mind, I guess neither should we.”

“I suspect they did and still do!” Connor called back. The existence of a tiki lounge on the slopes of Mt. Fuji was an insult to very identity of the country! Of course they had to mind! Grumbling, he added in a tone too soft for them to hear, “Businessmen with deep pockets have a way of bypassing public complaints…”

Heitor, having joined Connor in his boycott, was seated across from him, however, and did hear. Shrugging, he commented, “At least we can ensure people like that won't receive any business from us.”

“Chu!” Lippa agreed, having finished her bowl of sekihan.

Connor looked down at his own bowl of red rice. He’d barely touched it. “At least, yeah. Not that it will make any difference.” Trainers occupied the other benches and available seats at the lounge in equal measure. It seemed they had no particular preference to the kind of food they ate, so Connor and Heitor were alone in their outrage. Well, Connor was alone in his outrage; Heitor was mostly confused. They were also quite literally alone. Connor noticed how most of their fellow participants eyed the boisterous main group and his lone pair with reserved curiosity and suspicion. “I didn’t think lunch would turn out like this.”

“Turn out how, m’dear?”

“When I realised departing at seven meant we’d have lunch here and supper in Tokyo, I was excited to spend the time with the others. Yet we’re isolated from both friend and peer. I feel like an outcast.”

Heitor chuckled. “We were that before the tourney started.”

“I know,” Connor conceded reluctantly, “but, as usual, I’m the only one who feels this strongly about an issue, and you’re the only one who takes me seriously.” He motioned around him with both palms presented upwards in a sign of hopelessness. “We’re on one of the most iconic landmarks of Japan, and yet nobody else grasps how this is the island of Honshu, and not Honolulu. To the Japanese, this out-of-place business should be akin to sacrilege.”

The other boy looked thoughtful. “The owner is almost certainly a foreigner, so maybe he or she was like, ‘I want to introduce this cultural aspect to Japanese people!’ and didn’t think twice about the consequences of that idea.”

“So, essentially normie ignorance coupled with ruthless business tactics?”

“Eeesentially.” When Connor shook his head and stared at his food again, Heitor leaned closer, grinned, and asked, “Got another one in ya?”

Connor returned the grin wryly. “Yeah, actually.” He sighed. “The others look like they’re adapting well, but I don’t know… it feels strange without Cam and Saul. I didn’t know them as well as Hannah does, but I was hoping the tourney would change that. I guess that’s impossible now.”

Nodding, Heitor replied, “Indeed.”

“Do you… think they’re in Sapporo by now?”

“I don’t know? It took us five hours to get here, but I don’t think their flight would have lasted that long.” Lippa poked him in the stomach with the tip of her tail and chirped. Petting her fondly, he continued, “They prolly won’t focus on missing us that much, so follow their lead and just enjoy the experience.”

Connor gestured at the path winding around the establishments and leading up the mountain. “We’re a mere hour away from the Taiseki-ji High Sanctuary of the Essential Teachings.” His voice contained traces of enthusiasm, but mostly conveyed disappointment. “I would have loved to spend the entire day there, doing things like viewing the images inside the Mieidō or visiting the Five Storey Pagoda, but I’d barely have time to see even the San-mon Gate before having to turn back. I wish they had granted us more than two hours here.”

“Then you’ll just have to find something else to do!” Heitor said cheerfully, holding his braid and spinning it like a windmill. “Maybe like challenging someone to a battle, or taking a walk and enjoying the mountain’s landscape.”

Looking to their friends at the lounge, Connor’s gaze drifted from one to the next. Hannah and Salem were engaged in a spirited discussion; Alexis desperately held on to the hood protecting her hair while Peony tried to pry her Skitty off Alexis’ head; Jasmine and Murtle terrorised the bartender; and Nathan… sat off to the side, mirroring Connor in staring at his food.

“Hmm, I think a walk is a good idea.”

“Then enjoy that, m’dear!”

Connor raised his hand in thanks and summoned Hades. Putting his bowl of uneaten rice on the floor for his dog, he then sidled over to Nathan. “I feel like exploring along the trail a bit. Do you mind joining me?”

Though he hesitated at first, Nathan nodded. “All right.”

Hades bounded over and barked excitedly. A few grains of rice were stuck to his muzzle, so Connor knelt down and wiped them away. Nathan had risen, so Connor straightened and strolled down the path. It was interesting to note the other participants’ groups scattered throughout the area. Few were as large as their group, which was probably another reason why “Hannah & Co.” were so easily recognisable.

“Do you think they resent our early success?” he asked Nathan, passing a boy busy grooming his Absol. Connor looked back to marvel at the Pokémon’s gleaming fur (it surely possessed an impressive pedigree) before turning to Nathan for his reply. His only response, however, was a shrug. Frowning, Connor elaborated. “I didn’t notice it before, most likely because they only developed this attitude after our success yesterday, but I saw some of them watching us with concealed distrust at the bus station and during Hannah’s battle with Salem.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Nathan said, focused on the path ahead.

“Hmm.” When they passed another lone trainer — a girl who exercised her Fletchinder by letting it flap its wings while perched on her arm — Connor continued, “It’s not like the competition isn’t up to scratch. As far as I see it, we’ve simply been extremely lucky. So far, we haven’t had any events where we needed to use our own Pokémon for battling.”

“I guess not.”

Connor looked down at Hades, with whom he shared a subtle, exasperated look. “You must be looking forward to that. Battling with your own Pokémon, I mean. Your poor Geodude— What was his name, again?”

Nathan lifted his arm to scratch the back of his neck. “Ayer.”

“Right! Your poor Ayer hardly got any practice during the water sports on the hotel roof.” Connor smiled. “And to think, that was four days ago. Can you believe we’re already at day five of the tourney? It feels like so little and yet so much time has passed simultaneously.”

“Mmm.” Nathan fidgeted with his cuffs and brushed his sleeve.

“He’ll be a formidable force once he’s evolved.”

“I was thinking of giving him a Charge Stone to swallow.”

Connor’s surprise at the lengthier sentence quickly gave way to annoyance. “Ah, one of the many items used to force in a Pokémon a change that’s been proven numerous times to lead to depression and identity crises.” He didn’t think it was possible, but the resulting silence was even more awkward than previously. “Then again, Gravellers need to experience an intense emotional stressor to trigger evolution into a Golem, which is why many mistakenly believe “trading” certain Pokémon is what’s needed to get them to evolve. So, you’re between a rock and a hard place — pun unintended.” Still nothing. Connor sighed and halted. No other trainers were in sight. “This is as good a place as any.”

Nathan stopped and looked over his shoulder. “For what?”

“You hold me responsible for your Swirlix’s injury. Your affection for it manifested differently from Hannah’s for Charlie, since you decided to keep your rental. That means our relationship will remain strained if this matter is left unresolved. For the good of our friendship and the strength of our group, I suggest you air your feelings.” Connor sat down on a suitable rock and scratched Hades behind the ear. “Take your time. I’ll wait for you.”

Nathan took a few deep breaths and looked over the Japanese countryside. He spotted Kyoto, focusing on the cityscape.

"I don't," Nathan said tentatively. He briefly turned around, but a quick nod from Connor (still scratching a contented Hades behind the ear) and a gesture to keep going led Nathan to swivel back and stare at the city.

"I don't blame you? I...it's complicated, okay? I don't really know where to start. You guys were waving around your stupid swords-"

"Lightsaber. And only I had one."

"-whatever." Nathan squinted. "And Swirlix isn't very bright? Destroyer doesn't believe in personal space, and has a pretty one-track mind, and-"

"Destroyer?"

Sighing, Nathan snapped, "It's a work-in-progress." His expression drooped. "Alright, you know what really bugs me? My uncle."

After a few seconds, Nathan guessed that Connor had decided to stay quiet altogether. Not too much better, but at least it let Nathan relax ever so slightly. Nathan still didn't want to look back, out of the fear of losing his temper or whatever set of emotions were boiling his brain. "It's a miracle he hasn't talked about that fight yet. He has to have seen it. Even if that was illegal, he would bribe the entire Singaporese government to watch me. It's not the first time he's done something like that. I'm waiting for him to drop the other foot, and that's tearing at me. I don't want to pick up the phone and hear "I'm suing that brat and his family for everything they're worth" or "I will happily rig the rental system to get you something much better. I won't let him, but I don't know what I'm going to have to say or do to get him to stop, so that also makes me nervous." Nathan waited, maybe for a word or two of sympathy or a compliment for trying to mimic his uncle's gruff voice; there was still silence.

Continuing, Nathan said, voice straining, "I had to see them bring Swirlix into Critical Care. I had to see them bring out the anesthetic, pull out the sharp tools. I ran off because, what could I do? Was I really going to watch? I hid in a tree for, well, I don't remember how long. Everyone had their phones, and they were all showing your fight. Your big show. I hated that a lot, especially getting to rewatch my Swirlix getting beat up, over and over and over again. Part of me still thinks you did this on purpose, because it ruined your act." Nathan balled his hands into fists.

"You know I didn't-" began Connor.

"I know," said Nathan, squinting harder at the trees around him on Mt. Fuji, as though waiting for them to burst into flames. "And I hate thinking like that, because it's exactly how my uncle thinks. It's just, that oversized ball of cotton candy is important to me. I barely know it, and it doesn't look nearly as awesome as the others. Destroyer is so determined, though - it loves to fight, it's daring, and it's crazy, on top of the fact that it's pretty friendly when it wants to be. That's basically everything I want to be. The other two are either shy or suspicious, and I like them for that, but Swirlix already means a lot to me because it's so relatable. So yeah, seeing it getting hurt? That hurts me." He shook his head and sat down, all of his anger burned away by the harsh light of fear, only to be replaced by a melancholy that hung over him like a weight.

Connor walked up and sat down by Nathan. Setting down Hades, who moved around the two of them noiselessly, apparently watching to see if anyone else would approach, Connor thought for a second. "I understand," he said at last, gently. "It's the bonds between us and our Pokemon. That is what compelled Cethyrs to attack Swirlix, and that is why you feel this way. We should have had this conversation some time ago, but perhaps the wait allowed you to collect your thoughts."

Shifting his gaze from the mountain to the ground at his feet, Nathan nodded. "I guess it has," he said. Another pause. "Could you promise this doesn't happen again?"

"I can't," Connor said. "However, I will try my best. I wasn't able to do so during our battle, but I will retract my Pokémon into their balls if it comes down to it. I don't want our friendship to be hampered by something like this again."

Both rose up, Connor following Nathan. "My luck's terrible," Nathan said, "But you've been sincere in your promises, good or bad, so I'm ready to bury the hatchet."

They shook hands and, Hades in front of them, walked down the path to the rest of their group. Nathan hadn't realized how many trainers were around now, nor how happy they looked with their Pokemon. It was an nice feeling.

Heitor – Another Cry

...E então, Lippa não conseguiu vencer, mas o combate foi muito interessante. Foi um verdade prazer! Ah, e não te preocupas: com meu próximo mensagem, vou te contar anedotas sobre meus amigos. Até à próxima!

Heitor


Heitor sent his message, smiling with satisfaction. “And now, I’m even with myself, you stupid girl-looking emotionless idiot.” he giggled, and put his phone back inside his pocket, caring not to disturb the sleeping Lippa on his lap. He tenderly scratched her back, wondering what other good action he could complete.

“Um… Hey!”

Heitor rose his head: a brown-haired kid with an equally brown shirt and blue pants stood in front of his bench, looking at him uneasily. “...Okay, I feel bad.” Heitor began. “I know you’re the kid with a Pikachu I beat in the tournament, but I remember your family name and your family name only. Which… is pretty bad, considering it’s prolly not the first time this happens to you.”

The boy giggled. “Arthur Panecakes.”

“THAT’S THE ONE!”

“Yeah. Just try to think, like, Excalibur or something, I hear it’s a great way to remember.”

“Gotcha. I’ll try to use that. So, what’s up?”

“Yeah, um… So, my Pikachu evolved?”

Heitor clapped, and Lippa opened an eye. “Awesome. I mean, Pikachu’s pretty much useless unless you have a Light Ball, and these are very hard to find and very expensive.”

“Yeah, so my Dad bought me an evolutionary stone instead.”

“A-a-a-and now you want to test your champion against Lippa, Raichu versus Raichu?”

Arthur nodded, and Heitor shared a gaze with Lippa. “I don’t need to ask if you wanna battle, do I?” Lippa stretched, then leaped off from Heitor’s lap. The latter rose from his seat and put a confident hand on his hip. “Let’s rumble, m’dear! We’ve got a little thing we need to test, too.”

It took only a few minutes for the two trainers to walk a few meters away from each other and get ready for their battle. Lippa gazed around, satisfied to see that several pairs of eyes put themselves on her trainer and opponent. She waved somewhere in the crowd and, following her gaze, Heitor noticed that Peony and Alexia were among those watching. Lippa chirped joyfully, happy to perform – and Heitor glanced at her and smiled until Lippa’s body promptly froze in place as Arthur summoned his Pokémon.

A Hawaiian Raichu.

“...Oh, you… You used one of those Alter Stone thingies.” Heitor commented. “Fancy that.”

“Yeah!” Arthur exclaimed proudly. “I wanted to try something different. I felt like it would be copying if I went for a normal Raichu. Let’s start!”

Heitor sighed. Fair argument, he thought, but he’s so, so going to spam Psychic. “Lippa! Use Nasty Plot!”

An angry scowl appeared on Lippa’s face as she bent her knees, her cheeks buzzing with electric sparks.

“Pi- Raichu! Use Psychic!”

Lippa’s body flew high into the air and was thrown back to the ground, following the will of the floating Raichu, who lifted his arm once more, forcing Lippa to follow its motion. Then he moved it back down, and Lippa’s body once again followed.

“Lippa! Free yourself with Dig!”

As Lippa’s body reached the ground, she brought her arms forward and hit it, disappearing in a cloud of dust – she was underground, outside of the Psychic Raichu’s reach. As the vigilant foe looked around, Lippa appeared underneath his floating tail and struck him with a jumping, super effective uppercut.

“Begin the enemy surfing!”

Following her trainer’s order, Lippa performed a front flip after her attack and flung her tail forward, locking its tip around her enemy’s neck. The Raichu fell on the ground and Lippa landed on its exposed stomach as it slid on the ground, as if she was using it a surfboard.

“Now, Thunderbolt!” Heitor ordered.

Lippa’s expression finally turned into a triumphant one as she unleashed her trademark laugh and fired a point-blank Thunderbolt, promptly knocking the Raichu out in the process. Lippa threw her arms up in victory and ran back to her trainer, visibly overjoyed. The latter patted her head the walked towards Arthur. “Good job as always, Lippa!” he exclaimed for his Pokémon. “As for you, m’dear,” he continued for Arthur, “I get that you needed to use Psychic since it was probably your only effective move against me, but that made you super predictable. Make sure you always juggle with your move sets and how you use ‘em, else, well, this is what happens.”

“Rai! Raichu!” Lippa exclaimed, pulling hard on Heitor’s pants, to the latter’s confusion.

“Oh, right… I didn’t change his moves much.” Arthur figured as he recalled his Pokémon inside its Ball. “Okay, that makes sense. Thanks for the advice.”

“Ya welcome, m’de-”

“RAI!”

Heitor immediately jerked his head towards Lippa and knelt to gaze into her frustrated eyes. “Do… Not… scream at me.” he whispered coldly. “I repeat. Do… not… scream at me. Or if you must, you better have a damn good reason.” Heitor gazed back at Arthur. “Education time, m’dear. You, uh, prolly don’t wanna see this next scene. I’ll see you around.”

“R-Right. Good luck! And thank you!”

As Arthur walked away, Heitor focused his attention on Lippa again, whose head was directed towards the ground in shame. Heitor calmly placed a hand on her cheek, and she lifted her hand, understanding the gesture of trust. “What’s wrong, girl?” Heitor whispered. “You never scream at me, and you’re out of juice, so that’s clearly not what’s making you so aggressive. That victory wasn’t any more impressive than any of the ones you’ve had so far. So, what’s wrong?”

Lippa pointed at the spot on which she had defeated the Hawaiian Raichu. Heitor turned back, thoughtful. She had had a strange behavior ever since that Raichu showed up… Heitor looked at Lippa again. Then, his eyes widened. Maybe...
Heitor pulled out his Pokedex and navigated towards the Raichu page. As expected, since the Pokédex remained active even in Heitor’s pocket, a new page on the Hawaiian version of Raichu had been added, and with it, a new, updated line for the normal Raichu’s page. Heitor promptly activated its voiced description.

“As electricity builds up inside its body, it becomes more aggressive. One theory is that the electricity buildup is actually causing stress.” the device’s automated voice began. “Because so many Trainers like the way Pikachu looks, you don't see this Pokémon very often.”

Heitor blinked – he had to admit to himself that he was slightly shocked. You knew there was a serious problem with your public life if even the official descriptions of a species you belonged to told you that you were rare because nobody liked your looks. Who wrote that and thought it was a good idea? He could easily see the problem now: Pikachu was always chosen over Raichu, and the rare times Raichu was taken by trainers, they specifically went for its Hawaiian counterpart because it looked cuter, or was handier due to its Psychic typing. Lippa sought attention and care above all else, as Heitor had come to learn. But he knew, at long last, that she had the same problem he had to battle against his entire life and would struggle with ‘til it ended.

Big, fat, ugly discrimination.

“Welp.” Heitor concluded, patting on his Pokémon’s head. “The plus side is, at least now I know exactly what your problem is, and I know how to fix it.”

Lippa’s ears sprung up and her face brightened. “Rai?”

“Yup! You can trust me on this one, girl. But um… You’re… It’s not gonna be easy, okay?” Lippa nodded, a confident smile on the face. Heitor returned the smile with a hint of concern. She was strong, but her will could easily break if he didn’t pay attention, and Hawaiian Raichus were clear triggers for her mental weakness. He hoped Transmission's future partner would behave.

“Nice win, Heitor!” Alexis congratulated him as she approached. “You’re really doing great with that Raichu of yours, aren’t you?”

Heitor chuckled. “I’m not too shabby – and Lippa’s an awesome partner. But thank you, your Graceful Grass Queen!” he exclaimed, bowing in front of Alexis as she chuckled along. Then, he gazed at Peony, smiling cheerfully. “So, how did you like that, m’dear? Any comments on this battle?” he patted on Lippa’s head. “You can be honest by the way, this girl knows she’s brutal.”

“Well, um, she’s very… acrobatic? I don’t think my cats can do the slide thing. But I liked the way she stopped the… Psychic? With Dig. I think it was clever.”

“Oh, don’t worry about the enemy surfing, m’dear – it’s a Lippa exclusive. But your cats are cats: they can be as acrobatic as my girl, there. It’s all a matter of how creative you need to be, and how responsive your Pokémon are to you." Peony nodded gravely, noticing the serious tone. "But, since you’re a cat girl with cat reflexes commanding actual cats," Heitor continued to lighten the mood, "I’m fairly certain you’ll do just fine. I promise not to spam her when we actually practice ourselves, though, I have other partners. Later!” Heitor winked at Peony, then walked past the girls and moved towards the Tiki Lounge. “I’ll go check if they don’t have a Uka Uka mask for my girl,” he warned with a goodbye gesture. “You comin’, Lippa?”

“Rai-Rai!” Lippa briefly hugged both Alexis and Peony’s legs as she chirped happily, then ran after her trainer and grabbed the hand he held out for her. The duo marched off, ignoring looks and concerns – after all, neither would change, so neither should they.




And the Quote credits go to...!

"This bus smells like sock sweat," complained Hannah. "Like really dank sock sweat."

Nathan raised an eyebrow, sniffing the air. The Australian accent in him, pressed so far down for so long, came out: "Aeh, according to the GPS, we'll be there in no time, flat."

Hannah turned to him, sly grin on her lips. "You'd be so adorable if you said 'mate', you know that, right?"

Nathan shrugged. "It's how I got my first girlfriend in Singapore, actually."

She tousled his hair. "To even think you've had a girlfriend! So cute!"

Her pal's face reddened and he crossed his arms, looking away from her. "I don't see you with a dude on your arm, or you playing the ukulele like a normal Hawaiian."

"Wings hates the ukulele. Gotta think of your pokemon, mate."

The bus slowed, and came to a stop. Looking out the window, Hannah and Nathan's eyes widened as they took in a giant Gundam statue in a plaza nearby.

"They have..."

"Gundams!"

"Real Gundams!"

"Go go go!"



The Gundams were a trap...into another event. Up in the arms of the statue stood Miles, holding a megaphone and an entire arm covered in participant lanyards.

"Heeeeeeello everyone! And welcome to the Tokyo Gruel, which is what we're snappily calling our challenge this week!"

The gang looked around at the gaggle of trainers around them. A hundred, maybe more, Hannah surmised. She was chill with that.

"Your challenge, beginning once everyone has a Lanyard--" He handed them all over to his Blaziken, who jumped into the crowd and began handing them out one by one, "--is to gather a Watchman Badge from our official contest veteran trainers who've been spaced out all over the wards spanning through the entirety of suburban Tokyo!"

Behind Hannah, Connor whispered to Heitor: "Our best shot will be Ota by the shore, I guarantee it."

Hannah turned to Salem, who'd put on a pair of shades from the 50s, at least. "We should likely split up for this."

He nodded. "It'll give our team a better chance of garnering the points, perhaps just not individually."

"But you know I can't just let you wander off..."

"Or what, Annie will scold you?"

She turned back to watch Miles, noticing his scrawny legs poking out from his cargo shorts. Nerd. "Fair."

"FOR FAIRNESS," he said over their heads, "these badge watchmen have one Pokemon each, all at the same combat level and evolutionary stage. The elements are varied by three: Fire, Water, and Grass!" There was a bit of chatter in the crowd; Hannah put on her own sunglasses and took a lanyard from Blaziken, patting him on the back. "You may only do battle with the watchman with a pokemon of the same type. This means fire will fight fire, water will fight water, and grass will fight grass."

"That's smart on the company's part...making faux teamwork between folks who may not have a pokemon in the trinity."

Hannah arched a brow and turned to Salem. "Trinity? Is that what Canadians call the first few elements on the table?"

He nodded. "It makes me wonder if monotype trainers will suffer in this game. Maybe we should do some teaming up and dividing."

"Once you have claimed your badge, your presence on the Competitor GPS will become hostile, and other trainers may challenge you to a battle for ownership of your badge! However, there are safe zones where you may turn in the badges before they may be claimed by your competitors! Those will also be marked on your maps. You may have noticed a new function in your PokeGear today, which is the Party function--this will allow up to three people to travel together and share credit earned by anyone in the group; however, this credit is divided by half in a party, considering that the three of you can do at least twice as much work!"

Blaziken hopped back into the arms of the Gundam and knelt beside Miles, his task finished.

"Party up, explore, and claim your victory today! You have four hours on the clock! Ready! On your mark! Steady!"

Salem tapped his PokeGear and invited Hannah and Nathan. Both accepted, and a new interface showed on their phones, displaying the vitality, types, and combat levels of all pokemon among them. Hannah went wild-eyed at the sight of Bisharp's combat level, but immediately shut it out of her head.

Connor, Heitor, and Peony partnered up. Jasmine shook her head at the offer of competition and noted that she would find a nice place to watch the group on her app while reading.

Once the hologram displayed the timer, Hannah clipped new baubles she'd bought at Mt. Fuji to the bottoms of her shoes: roller blades. The others prepared.

And the blaring horn signalling their beginning echoed through the square.