Young Writers Society

Hannah Hannah Bo Bannah

Seated atop a picnic table, boba in their hands, Hannah and Nathan watched as Connor headed off in decidedly the wrong direction. "You can't control that thread of mankind's brutality. How does that feel?" And Nathan sipped down noodles.

"It feels frustrating." Hannah flung a yakisoba into her mouth with chopsticks and shoved her lunch carton aside. "I'm gonna shave the side of my head everytime Connor screws up his own happiness."

"Speaking of?"

Hannah tossed some yen on the table. A Togetic floated down into her lap and kissed the ends of her chopsticks. "You like this better than PokeBlock jam, Charlie?"

"Tiiiiic!"

Hannah scritched him behind his rook of hair.

"Isn't it a bit strange adopting a pokemon by your brother's name?"

"I jumped at the chance, actually. Annie did, too." Hannah slurped down her icee. "She said that things that bind us to pokemon get stronger and stronger the more complicated the ties are."

"So you're keeping Charlie."

"That's the planiel, Nathaniel." She fed him a strand of yakisoba, then a chunk of fruity pokeblock she'd made with the machines. "I like the spicy ones, Charlie. I'll make us some spicyblocks once mama gets her haircut, yeah?"

"Toooooog!"

She slid off the table and rolled Cutiefly's pokeball out of her hand, letting the fairies play around her head as she kissed Nathan on the top of the head as she passed by him--just quick enough to get her money back.

“Tourney starts in thirty,” Hannah said casually, glancing at her pokeball-print watch, and then at her schedule. Around them, their fellow trainers rushed down the pathways, dressed in their elaborate sunstone pokemon costumes.

“I'm heading to that concession stand before it,” Nathan said, taking a large bite out of his cotton candy.

Hannah and Alexis stood waiting, silence hanging over their heads. While Hannah rubbed her pokeballs until they shined, Alexis watched the trainers pass by, talking on their phones, taking selfies with friends or pokemon, among other things. Oddly, Alexis saw no crests appear on their phone. Surely by now, some other trainers would have gotten them? As more passed, it seemed that no one had any crests.

“Not a lot of trainers have crests, do they?” She commented to Hannah.

“We do,” Hannah said, focused more on her pokeballs than on the conversation.

Alexis sighed. “Obviously. But it almost seems like we're the only ones.”

“Let's check,” Hannah suggested, sliding over to a photo booth. The people inside had left their bags unattended outside, so she opened it and sifted through the contents. Finally, she found their phone, and pressed the power button. It flickered to life, showing a passcode input. “If this works, I am going to personally slap the owner of this device.” She punched in '12345', and the screen unlocked. Hannah nearly screamed. “That's almost as bad as Connor's.”

Alexis glanced at the tent. “How do you know his passcode?”

“It's not exactly hard to guess. 25397.”

“How is that easy to guess?”

“Seriously? 25397? You can't figure it out? It's unbelievably obvious. Then again, you of all people are too oblivious to realize what that number means,” Hannah said as she looked through the phone, headed straight for the pokemon app. After a second, she shook her head and shut the phone off. “Nope, nothing.”

“That doesn't exactly tell us if anyone has a crest. Just that these specific trainers don't,” Alexis said as they walked away from the unguarded bags, reviewing the results of the investigation. Hannah shrugged, and Alexis groaned. “You just did this to break into someone's phone, didn't you?”

Hannah giggled. “No, I did this for the Schadenfreude. Specifically from you still not knowing that passcode's meaning. I can tell it's bugging you.”

Alexis rolled her eyes.

“He's back,” Hannah noticed, as Nathan approached. Nathan was eating more cotton candy, and carrying several bags of the food. He met up with Alexis and Hannah just as a voice came over the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen, trainers and spectators, our official Rental Affection Tournament shall be soon underway. We ask that you report to our beautiful Pokémon Company buses, which will be taking you straight to the stadium for the tournament. It'll be a short ride, but remember to take some fahrvergnügen away from it. And good luck to all participants!”

The voice was gone, and hundreds of trainers turned and began walking towards where it was expected the buses would be. Alexis began to follow, Hannah behind her, but they stopped upon seeing Nathan's hesitation.

“What if I don't have enough cotton candy to last the tournament?”

“Nathan, come on,” Hannah said, dragging him by the ear all the way to the buses.

Gazing out the window of the bus, Connor tried to take away as much “fahrvergnügen” (somebody had watched too many Volkswagen ads) from the short trip as possible, but his mind was restless. After having abandoned his friends for an hour, he had acted aloof upon his return; Hannah had tried to talk to him, but he’d given her the cold shoulder, so she left him alone. Alexis wasn’t too keen to speak to him either, so the adjacent seat had remained unoccupied until Jasmine fearlessly sat down beside him.

He’d initially prepared yet another response that made clear his lack of wanting to talk about what bothered him, but she seemed wholly disinterested, which suited him just fine. While she discussed her experience at Annie MacFarlane’s with Hannah across the aisle, he reviewed possible strategies for Cethrys in the tournament to come.

Practice had shown the Scyther knew Wing Attack, Fury Cutter, Pursuit, Slash, Feint, and Swords Dance. Using an app on his phone, Connor had measured the speed of Cethrys’ strikes, which he then compared to the average. Considering it was roughly fifty percent faster, he deduced the mantis’ Ability was Technician. Wing Attack would therefore more useful than Slash most of the time, especially if an opportunity to sneak in a Swords Dance presented itself.

Of course, Fury Cutter was also a good choice. After using it only three times consecutively, Scyther would be able to cleave through steel. All Pokémon held back during battles, but the attack would still deal enough damage to take down an opponent quickly, provided their rental didn’t have a type resistance to Bug. In that case, Wing Attack and Pursuit could be useful in getting close enough to land a blow, though Feint, while less powerful, was more suited to that end.

In itself, however, Wing Attack wasn’t a spectacular move, considering the limited flight capabilities of Scythers in general. Connor had therefore spent much of Cethrys' training teaching him how to use Aerial Ace via online video material and combat guides. It had proven quite easy and was a solid investment to boot, what with Aerial Ace being more appropriate in every way to the Scyther battling style.

Connor produced a notebook and started scribbling down complex strategies, as well as contigency plans depending on the types of the Pokémon he could possibly encounter. By the time they arrived at the Nishiyogoku Pokémon Stadium ten minutes later, all thoughts of the incident earlier the day had been pushed aside.

He disembarked along with the others and gazed up at the stadium. “Meh. I’ve seen more impressive ones.”

Hannah shot him a sideways glance. “Can this be? Is my Connerd finally confessing to his secret love for sports?”

“When I was in sixth grade, South Africa hosted the soccer world cup. As a result, our teachers showed us a lot of pictures of the sports arenas the country had.” He waved dismissively at the building. “Besides, this used to be an athletics stadium which was later converted to a Pokémon stadium, so we shouldn’t expect too much in the first place. All in all, one of the less interesting stadia I’ve seen.”

“I didn’t think you could make that sound as boring as you did,” Saul remarked dryly, “but you did. Congratulations.”

“And why ‘stadia’?” Cam asked. “Is it Latin or something?”

“It’s the correct plural form in ‘Latin or something,’ yes,” Connor replied, glaring at Saul before looking back to Cam. “It’s accepted in English too, as is evident with ‘media’, being the standard plural of ‘medium’.”

“Aight fam, that’s all the time we have for ‘The More You Know’-” Hannah’s Togetic waved his one hand in an arc, scattering sparkling dust, “-moments today. Use hard moves and focus on the soft parts! GO!” She dashed forward, her Fairy zooming close behind.

“What are the odds of one of us actually winning the tournament?” Nathan whispered to Connor.

“Seven to a hundred, which is the lowest possible probability, seeing as there are only a hundred trainers participating in the tourney, including the seven of us.”

Once the rest of them had also entered the stadium, they were surprised to see many separate arenas and stalls constructed on the field. The group approached the nearest one and each collected an informative flyer the officials were handing out.

“What about now?” Nathan whispered again.

Connor lifted his gaze from his flyer and rolled his eyes. “Really?” He sighed exasperatedly. “Considering that there are six block tournaments in the classic three-round elimination style, with five turns per round, followed by a free-for-all, one to eight multiplied with one to six - which is one to forty-eight, by the way - is the only possible answer for one of us winning. Counting all of us, I guess it’s one to seven? Didn’t you read your flyer?”

Nathan pointed to their friends, who had already tossed the papers into the nearby trashcans. “I don’t think anyone thought it necessary with you around.”

“Tch. Then how would you learn about the additional do-not-push-your-Pokémon-so-far-as-to-make-them-suffer-or-you-will-be-disqualified clause before it’s too late?”

Cam snickered. “Like that.”

"Now that we’re all caught up on the rules and our odds of winning have at least doubled,” Hannah interjected, “we can get to proving we’re the very best, like no-one ever was! Loli-nerd, you’re with me. Later, nerds, dweeb and dork!”

Leaning towards Saul, Cam pretended to be him and called softly, “No, Jas, don’t go! I lo-”

Saul interrupted her schadenfreude with an elbow in the ribs. “You and I will settle this in a tournament of our own. Come on.”

“Dork’s gonna lo-o-o-ose,” Cam jeered, following.

Watching them leave, Connor commented, “I know ‘Connerd’ amuses Hannah to no end and will probably see usage until the end of time, but why is everyone else still using the joking epithets Hannah assigned us at our first meeting? Aren’t they, you know, so two days ago?”

“First meeting joking epithets,” Nathan echoed.

“Aren’t those reserved for nickname callbacks much later into our journey?”

“Do you think we care?”

“Fine, whatever.”

“So, are all three of us participating in the same tournament?” Alexis enquired, ending the dispute. She played with a strand of her hair.

Connor took a step back. “Had this been the regular Sunstone Festival, I’d have been anxious to overthrow the Queen of Grass, and I am aware I mentioned earlier today that you would be a pushover, but I have since changed my mind. I have a Flying Bug, while you have a Grassy non-Bug bug, so there is no way I’m picking the same block as you. I know it’s first come, first serve for this particular event, but there are five alternatives for me to choose.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as the chivalrous type,” Nathan remarked. “I thought you’d go for the type advantage for sure.”

“I would normally, but since she’s a friend, I’m bound to be handed the idiot ball if I face her. And I am not losing a battle where I had a double resistance type advantage.”

“So you’re afraid of being beaten by a girl in every sense of the expression?”

“A girl who has the underdog status and is therefore either doomed to lose or destined to win, and isn’t bad at strategising, so absolutely.”

“Wuss.” Nathan winked. “Then again, I guess your crest would somehow be related to knowledge and planning, so easy battles probably won’t cut it. Maybe your crest will activate because of some ingenious tactic you had to pull at the last second to achieve victory. Who knows? It’s a pity we won’t be there to see it.”

Connor frowned. “I thought our crests were just colours assigned to our profiles, determined by technical details similar to Internal Values in the Pokémon games. If that’s the case, how would it ‘activate’? I don’t understand what you mean.”

Nathan looked like he had said too much by accident. Alexis seemed to understand what he’d meant, but offered no support when he looked at her pleadingly. “Err, I mean we can’t leave Alexis alone, so I have to accompany her, which means you’re flying solo. And we need to claim our spots before there aren’t any left, so we’ve got to go. Good luck!” He made himself scarce, Alexis shrugging and chasing after him.

“That doesn’t even answer the question I asked!” Muttering, he added, “And we have plenty of time, since you yourself said nobody reads the flyers.” He snorted and summoned his Scyther. “Cethrys, use Pursuit on those cowards! Don’t let them get away!”

The mantis brandished his scythes and charged shrieking through the crowd, scattering trainers and Pokémon alike. Connor casually strolled through the aftermath, feeling distinctly like an evil mastermind hunting down the foolish heroes.

Aight, girl. Presence and attitude is practically 50% of your grade. She neared the tiny stadium door and started unwinding her shoulders with hip hop in her ears. Lucky for her, Charlie could hear it too, and was bopping along to every sick drop. Between glances into the stadium and to Charlie, she had put a hand on her ear and the other in front of her, scratching imaginary records.

"Dude, how were you not born into my family?"

"NEXT UP! WE HAVE! AND I'M JUST READING MY CARD HERE FOLKS! BEEVIS D. TRUMP VS. HANNAH-LAST-HOPE-FOR-HUMANS-A COLE!"

The audience went bananas. And she decided to stride out with Charlie like the coolest bros ever put together on Earth. She turned her pink cap backwards. She was starting to like this Annie chick.

"Show us some moves!"

Beevis, across the ring, and his rented Hawaiian Persian looked at one another as he plopped his ass on the ground and started licking himself at Persian's lead. Hannah and Charlie took their place (she guessed, who the hell knew) and their music hit the loudspeakers. They hit a dab together, then inched their feet to the left until they were turned around.

A few steps forward and they both did backflips--but Hannah held a grudge about this because it was so much easier for the Togetic. The two did a spin and high-fived in the center of the ring, sending out fairy-sweet kisses to all the folks cheering in the stands.

And Beevis was still licking himself.

"Our judges give the style round to Hannah Cole! For the battle round, you shall get one hit per round for five rounds. If your opponent faints before those five rounds are up, you are victorious. At the end of the five rounds, whomever has dealt the greatest damage shall move on. Furthermore, if you push your pokemon past its limits and endanger it, you will be disqualified!"

"Battle begin?" asked Hannah.

"Battle begin!"

"Charlie, I feel like a Fairy Wind. Do you feel like a fairy wi--"

"TOOOOOOOOOG!" A sudden pink wind shear cut down through the clouds and encased Persian, releasing it almost immediately as the judges hit their KO buttons.

Hannah reached out to pet the Togetic gently, a bit afraid.

"NEXT ROUND: Food Network's Trisha Yearwood!"

"Hey y'all!, I'll sing a song for our opener." And she smiled such a prize-winning smile, y'all.

Her song was beautiful, but when she summoned Sliggoo to her side, Hannah couldn't help but let out a tremendous "Oh, honey..."

Charlie and Sliggoo bashed heads in the center of the ring. Sliggoo summonned an Aqua Ring, but Togetic just wanted to kiss it...and knock it out. The judges dinged a

and Hannah let out a very deep, very worried, not very good at all breath.



"Didja hea?" asked Cam.

"About Hannah? Yeah. Apparently she's trumping her foes with abandon," said Saul.

"I think her final opponent will be too much for her to handle," noted Cam.

"That makes narrative sense."



She was resting in an enclave made by her new adoring fans, sipping lemonade with a hint of wasabi from a tea glass when the referee took to the ring. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have our final fight of tourney A, which most are calling The Broom Closet....but that is not my business. Now, for the peak of the sport, welcome with me back to the stage The Mighty Hannah Cole!"

Beyonce began playing as she took her place on stage. Her fans cheered. Togetic looked nervous. Too nervous.

"And in the other corn--!!!"

A white-haired boy Hannah's age appeared on stage and swept the mic from the referee, turned it off, and tossed it. The crowd murmured to itself as a Bisharp landed from the risers beside the boy.

"Tooooog?"

"Shhhhhh."

"....."

"....."

Bisharp charged forward, forearms aglow with a sickly verdant light. As Hannah dodged the slash path, Charlie dove low. Bisharp sliced through a rope holding the ring into classic form. Wasting no time, Charlie enveloped his body in a blue haze and headbutted Bisharp in the chest...only to pass right through.

Hannah's fists clenched. "He's immune to psychic attacks, love! You must focus on natural attacks! Remember what you're made of!"

The Togetic nodded and flew high above, charging a beam and firing at Bisharp as he leaped after her for a slice of steel--a Metal Claw--that could take Charlie over the edge. Hannah's breath caught in her chest. She looked at the judges as the beam missed. The judges looked to her.

She cut into a run towards her corner and smashed her hand into the button to surrender, and both pokemon were withdrawn into their pokeballs.

She didn't even see the boy's reaction or exit the arena. She sat alone in the ring for a long while until Trisha returned to sit by her. "I've done told Annie what that boy was about to do to that poor Togetic." She wrapped Hannah in a hug. "Hon, you are so fierce and wild...it's a wonder the universe didn't send two o' them boys at you at the same time, you know that?" She sighed, looking at the high noon. "That's the way life works on the high and high, though. The more you give, the more pounds of flesh the world will want from you."

Hannah wiped back a tear, thinking about Charlie, whom she'd already given back for critical care. "Thanks, Trisha Yearwood."

"It's time you head back to your friends, hon."

"Where are you gonna go?"

"I have t'perform at the bar tonight. What if I get y'all free tickets?"

"I'd really enjoy that."

Connerd Stick Redreed was pretending to be a villain and using his Scyther to play a game of chase. It was a wonder that he wasn't being tackled by security for disturbing the peace (or whatever crime this qualified as), but Connerd smugly walked through the area untouched, based on what few backwards glances Nathan made. So much for that good Fahrvergnügen.

If it wasn't for Scyther's good eyes, Nathan would've had decent odds of outrunning it in the gathering. However, Scyther, thanks to its convenient ability to fly when necessary, soon was dashing close enough that its claws nearly touched Nathan's shirt. The masses, for their part, opened ahead of Nathan upon seeing Scyther, so that he couldn't find an escape route among them. At first, he tried to focus on something else, so he noticed the phones of passing trainers and how they lacked any heart, especially not the light blue on his. It would've been a prideful moment for him (though, admittedly, he was still disturbed by the creation of the hearts), but the distraction proved bad enough that Scyther was beginning to grip the edge of his shirt. Deciding it was everyone for themselves, Nathan pushed Alexis, whose hand he had been desperately holding in the last few minutes, in the general direction of Scyther and kept on running. She wasn't happy about that, and shouted at him angrily, but like hell was he going to fight Connor.

His next tactic was to make a quick fake to the right, run to the left, and hide behind a booth selling berries. Scyther shot on ahead, but it was smart enough to notice his absence, return in confusion, and catch Nathan's head peeking out from behind the stall.

"You should have done your reading," chided Connor, as Nathan ran off towards another stall. "We're going to be in the same mini-tournament."

"I'm surprised you didn't say I'm stupid enough to lose before I fight you!" called out Nathan from his hiding spot under a counter at an empty booth. Scyther sped off to the location as Nathan pushed himself in between two boxes of mushrooms.

Nathan could hear the scraping of the wood as Scyther grabbed the edge of the booth and looked inside, peering through the darkness to spot the extremely nervous target that was positioned almost directly beneath it. "It all depends on what you have," said Connor in his most faux-innocent (not much so) voice, laced with Schadenfreude.

Pulling out the Poke Ball containing his rental, Nathan hoped fervently that it was some kind of large and awesome Pokemon - his favorite kind - like a Machamp or an Abomasnow. Sure, it might crush the booth, and he wasn't sure if this would lead to his own arrest, but the expression on Connor's face would be priceless. "Want to see?" he asked as he pressed the button on the Poke Ball, pointing it at Scyther.

After a brief puff of smoke, which Scyther handily brushed aside, a Swirlix hovered just inches above the booth. Nathan facepalmed as the Swirlix smiled at him (or, since it was always smiling, maybe it was just confused and/or ambivalent).

Before the Scyther could reach inside, Connor retracted it. "You do have a type advantage," he commented, golf clapping as he slowly walked towards Nathan, who propped his chin on the counter and glared at the Swirlix. "As for a chance, well...maybe you'll have better odds eating the mushrooms."

Swirlix landed, feet popping out of its cotton candy body as it touched the ground, and licked Nathan's hair. He placed his hand over the hair, the former sticking firmly in place. Nathan, now unable to facepalm, groaned instead.




"AAAAAAAAAND because I've been paid to come here and say this, guess what I'm going to do! For our opening match of Tourney D - and anybody who comes up with a less-than-appropriate name for that is going to have their mouths washed with soap! - we have Nathan David -"

"Davis!" Nathan shouted from one end of the battleground.

" - just reading off the card here, kid," said the gray-haired referee apathethically, gesturing to the slip of paper in his hand. "And, opposite him, Philip...who wrote this, seriously, this handwriting is crap...Rich-cards!"

"Felipe Ricardo!" the red-haired guy said, sitting on the rough ground cross-legged.

"Don't care!" replied the referee happily, throwing the card behind him. He pulled out a whistle and blew it. "First up, we have a style round, so do whatever it is teens like you think is stylish!"

As the audience cheered, Nathan, having no idea what to do (as he still had a hand stuck to his forehead), spun in a circle and pointed to Felipe assertively. Felipe rose up from the ground gracefully and bowed.

"The judges are telling me that Felipe is the most stylish one here, so he gets a point! Besides, that spin was completely sub-par, and you looked so much less threatening, Dave. Anyways, let's get into the battle round! You have one chance to hit your opponent's Pokemon for five rounds. If your opponent's Pokemon faints, guess what, you win! If neither faints in time, whoever's Pokemon looks the worst is the looooooooser." - he placed an L on his forehead - "Just don't be a twit and put your pokemon in danger, because that's illegal, and we don't want that, do we? And, because I don't have anything else to say...battle begin!"

Felipe pulled out his Poke Ball and pressed the button just shortly after Nathan did. A Surskit appeared. "Bubble Beam!" he shouted.

Swirlix eagerly ran towards the fast-moving stream of bubbles, and was dismayed when it was knocked back by them; regardless, it didn't look that harmed. Nathan yanked his Pokedex from his pocket with his free hand and pointed it towards Swirlix. The Pokemon's statistics and moveset appeared in a few seconds, allowing Nathan to conveniently review them. He hummed for a few seconds before placing the Pokedex back in his pocket. "Energy Ball!" he commanded to Swirlix.

Instead of listening, Swirlix decided to puff up momentarily, having chosen to use Cotton Guard instead. "Swiiiiiiiirl!"

A good number of people in the audience laughed, and Felipe smirked condescendingly. "Turn two!" shouted the referee, blowing his whistle again.

The Surskit, on Felipe's command, summoned yet another wave of bubbles. Swirlix, however, having figured out that they were not friendly, dodged them; it looked offended. "Please just use Energy Ball," Nathan said despondently as Swirlix turned and stared at him, wagging its tail. Apparently, it had finally noticed Nathan's existence, and that he was commanding it. He gestured over to Surskit.

To everyone's surprise, the Swirlix spun around and charged the Surskit, darting around to confuse the water spider before blasting it with the attack. Of course, Nathan had to retract Swirlix when it decided to pursue a terrified Felipe ("SWIIIIIIIIRL!"), who also ran away from the battleground to catch his flying Surskit. However, the judges were more than happy to hit their KO buttons, and the audience cheered as the referee gawked at Nathan.

"Davy, I didn't know you had it in you!" the referee bellowed, forgetting his microphone was still on. The audience recoiled at the painfully loud sound, but Nathan ignored them all.

"You're going to need to do better," he said to the Poke Ball in his hand. "Do exactly what I tell you to do, and attack whoever I'm pointing at."

Another blow of the whistle sent Nathan running back towards his spot. "Your opponent for Round Two, Underdog Nate, is...," the referee began, drawing out his words until somebody rushed from out the judges' platform behind him and handed him a card, "...Alexander Butts!"

"Alexandra Beautis!" replied the black-haired girl, scowling in the general direction of the snickering members of the audience.

"Still don't care! Round Two...begin!"

Thankfully, round two went smoother than the first. Nathan tried to look menacing in the style round by moving one foot back and glowering, but against lost the style round as Alexandra spun in a circle and pointed at him assertively. Swirlix understood enough about what it was doing that it eagerly listened to Nathan's commands, particularly when he smiled at it. Alexandra brought out a Sunflora, but it was Nathan's opportunity to strike first, thanks to the referee impatiently gesturing for him to start after a few seconds. Draining Kiss was surprisingly effective, but the Sunflora retaliated by preparing a Solar Beam. After another Draining Kiss attack, the Sunflora, badly injured, unleashed the humongous beam directly forward, causing Nathan to duck for cover. Members of the crowd scattered in terror as the Sunflora, struggling to contain the beam, ripped up parts of the stands and tore at the walls. Fortunately, Swirlix ran around the unwieldy attack and struck Sunflora from the side with an Energy Ball, causing it to faint.

Raucous applause drowned out the referee as he pulled himself up from the ground, where he'd been curled up in the fetal position. Turning to the judges, who slowly poked their heads out from beneath their seats, Nathan smiled contently as they each hit the KO button. The referee, also noticing this, cursed at the audience until they desisted, and then took in a deep breath. "Our bonafide savior, Nathaniel Dave, has won yet another round!" There was more cheering that he had to curse out. "However, can he handle his final opponent - the Insect King!? The answer awaits as he takes on Con Reedy on the other side of that hall!"

He gestured to the open corridor opposite Nate, where the sun's light shone on a battlefield. Nathan swore he could see Connor's smug expression, even at the distance between them. Tempted to call upon Swirlix to attack the idiotic referee, so that he could disqualify himself (and teach that nuisance a lesson), he decided it would be best to be a good person and face his fears. Nathan ran after Swirlix, the latter happily flying and shouting as it went through the corridor.

"SWIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRL!"

“Ye-e-e-s, I would like your finest straight jacket Pokémon accessory from the ‘Gotta Haunt’er’ collection, please.”

“I don’t know, that sounds suspicious.”

“It’s not.”

“Oh, OK.”

“Also, I need a background check on the models, please include any emotional scars some of them may have caused to whoever was on the receiving end of their use in the past few weeks, also.”

“Now that sounds really suspicious.”

“Now, does a black man, moderately effeminate in appearance and wearing an Oni mask on the side of his face along with a sadistically smiling bandana around the neck honestly strike you as suspicious?”

“I suppose not.”

“Good, now could you hurry along? I have an orange-furred kangaroo rat I need to dress up.”

“OK.”

“Most excellent.”

The dialogue over, Heitor fabulously turned around, waiting for the receptionist of the Marshadow’s Dress-up Corner to come back with his straight jacket as he spun his braid around. ‘Twas incredible how easily his crazy demands could be managed with people who were less confident than he was in speaking to random strangers in English. With that in mind, Heitor pulled out a Poke Ball and threw it, letting the wonderful ‘Mon he had gotten in the festival come out: it was a Raichu – which still surprised Heitor for two reasons, the first being: “What? The grass-themed ‘mons had been switched to completely random ones?” And the second one being: “Holy cow, who gave away a Raichu to random trainers, how was he supposed to teach it proper moves, now?”

Although, to be fair, Heitor had stopped asking himself these questions two hours ago: by now, he had already discovered that his Raichu was a female, and therefore nicknamed it d.A.Lippa, or Dot-Assault Lippa for the ignorant ones; he had already used his Pokédex – yes, outdated next to all these youngsters and their fancy phone apps, but to each their own style, darn it – to check Lippa’s moveset, and he had also discovered that she liked performing about as much as he did, which would be why they had spent two hours practicing the role she’d play once they’d reach the tournament grounds.

“If you weren’t a Pokémon, I’d marry you already.” Heitor declared as he petted the quirky rodent, letting it bump its head against his torso with affection. The Japanese receptionist chose this moment to come back with the straight jacket, which Heitor gladly took with him as he strolled away, assuring the lady that she could keep the change, and spending two extra minutes explaining her that no, he was not into bestiality and only meant it as an expression.

“Aight, let’s review!” Heitor exclaimed as they began their advance towards the Stadium – luckily, it was placed next to a large amount of Pokémon-themed shops, so it wouldn’t take long for the boy and his companion to walk back towards it. “Bluetooth portable speaker?”

“Rai-rai!”

“Sadistic laugh?”

“Chu-ha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA-HAI!”

“Battle practice?”

“Rai-rai!”

“Musical timing?”

“Rai-rai!”

“A-a-a-and… You’re fully charged, right?”

Lippa grinned as she freed a few sparks around her cheeks.

“A-a-a-a-ah, Lippa, my girl. I believe, before we make our entrance, it is time for us to stride forward, fabulously.”

“…RAI?!”

“YES, YOUR FAVORITE SONG.”

The next ten or so minutes our heroes spent were used with a combination of Bluetooth, an mp3, and the duo singing as loud as possible to the beat of Walk the Dinosaur in the middle of the streets. For that reason, an entertaining/commercial scene skip shall occur.









“A-A-A-A-AND HERE COMES THE NEXT MATCH, FOLKS!”

“Ah, it’s gonna be us soon, darling.” Heitor told Lippa. “Hope you’re ready! Don’t get stage fright now, eh? Remember to walk the dinosaur!”

“Rai-Rai!”

“Our first match of the E Block is going to be: Molly Scarlet – who for some reason isn’t wearing a single shade of red – versus Heitor Heliodor!”

Heitor would’ve shouted that it was actually Heliodoro, but he had travelled enough to understand that Portuguese last names were lost on whoever wasn’t a natural Portuguese speaker. They were lucky he was never going with the full thing.

“Ah, and it says here that he asked to stay in the dark for a while for the sake of his presentation! So, for now… HIT MOLLY’S MUSIC!”

A wonderful thirty seconds-long version of Applause by Lady Gaga suddenly came in as the crowd went wild, and Molly came in with what appeared to be an Alolan Graveler, clapping his four hands with the rhythm of the music as Molly danced wonderfully, with both of them ending their presentation with a hand pointed at Heitor’s side, as if asking him to come out and face the crowd’s excitement.

“Okay.” Heitor wholeheartedly admitted. “That… was pretty cool.” Then, he grinned. “I believe it’s time for us to show our moves. Ready, Lippa?”

“Ra-a-a-a-a-ai…”



As the Ode to Mancini song began, Heitor slowly walked out of his corner and into the light, smiling cheerfully at his brown-headed opponent. He raised an arm and snapped his fingers, and a second later, steps could be heard behind him, with a haunting electric sound accompanying each of them.
As the music built up, Lippa came out of her spot as well, an eerily frozen smile covering her face. The audience stopped cheering to stare at the straight-jacketed apparition, unsure what to think.

“Say hello-o-o-o-o to your friendly Grim Lippa, best of its kind! Now then, m’dear! Accept your fate…” Heitor’s smile went from cheerful to demonic in an instant. “…And become her neighbor! Lippa, activate: Grim Ripper Mode!”

As the music reached its climax, the straight jacket suddenly burst open and Lippa released her electricity.

“Chuuuu-ha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA-HAI!”

The laughter clapped like thunder then abruptly stopped along with the music, accompanied by the general silence of their surroundings.

“Make sure you taste the dust well before you eat it.” Heitor concluded, pointing a menacing finger at his opponent.

“…Well, that happened. The combatants are set, and ready to rumble!” the announcer continued after a short silence. “Stylish round… definitely goes to your turned-into-century Saturday morning cartoon villain standing there, so, it’s time to move to the battle scene! You all know the rules! Ready…GO!!”

“Graveler, use Charge!”

Heitor smirked. “Oh, wanna play the setup game? Lippa. Nasty Plot.”

Raichu unleashed another sadistic laugh as her facial expression raised in eeriness, and its electricity circled around her like a pack of savage snakes.

“Graveler! Use ThunderPunch!”

Of course, she’d go for the physical hit – A: Lippa is scary, B: still frail despite the boost. “Wait for it…” Heitor let the Graveler run towards his trusty Raichu while carefully looking at its legs. Both eventually stood on the ground as the enemy was about to jump. NOW! “Lippa! Grass Knot!”

Lippa put her stubby arms behind her back like an evil mastermind as a green glow appeared in her eye. Then, a lightning fast root appeared right in front of the Graveler, who violently tripped on it. Lippa simply sidestepped as the poor Graveler passed by, sliding face first on the ground. The judges immediately hit their KO button – the previous Charge certainly hadn’t been enough to protect it from a boosted Super Effect hit.

“Welp, y’know what they say, m’dear!” Heitor exclaimed, shrugging nonchalantly. The bigger they are… the harder the sound, when they smash the ground!”

Lippa laughed one last time before rushing to Heitor’s side, looking at him with bright eyes. He fired a thumbs up, which they chained with a brofist.

“NEXT ROUND: Heitor Heliodoro VS – I did not make this up – Arthur Panecakes!”

“…That is not his real name.” Heitor muttered to himself as a kid came out running towards him, barely leaving Molly the time to leave the scene. The kid pointed a brave finger at him: “I should win this battle easily!”

Heitor raised an eyebrow. “Was the previous Graveler body not a clear indicator of how this is gonna go down?”

“Everybody knows a Pikachu is stronger than a Raichu!” Arthur continued as he pulled out a Pokeball from which a Pikachu indeed came out, seemingly determined to duke it out. Though to its concern, Heitor and Lippa both started laughing creepily. “Wh… What’s so funny?” Arthur inquired.

“Have you, uh… You said that ‘cause you watched the show, right?”

“…Yeah?”

“Did you reach Season 11? Diamond and Pearl?”

“Not yet?”

“So-o-o, you haven’t seen Pika VS Goliath, then.”

“…No?”

“And that, m’dear, is hilarious.”

Seconds later, the announcer… announced the beginning of the battle, only for Heitor to simply say: “Lippa? Agility.” Then have Lippa take her momentum as she ran across the battleground.

“Pikachu! Use Quick Attack to catch up to it!”

“Agility again, Lippa!”

The battle soon turned into a strange contest of speed in which Lippa kept running across the battleground, dodging the quick bursts of speed Pikachu would undertake to try and hit her.

“Stop using Quick Attack, Pikachu! Wait for that Raichu to stop moving!”

“Lippa, stop moving and use Nasty Plot!”

Lippa did just that, putting an end to her mad rush several steps away from her opponent, giggling happily as her power raised steadily.

“Pikachu! Show ‘im your most powerful move! Use Volt Tackle!”

Of course, he has freakin’ VOLT TACKLE. “Lippa!” Heitor couldn’t help but grin. “…Endure it.” He was perfectly aware that his Raichu had enough agility boosts to easily dodge the assault, but not only was the move bound to be not very effective, Heitor wanted to make sure the next part of his plan wouldn’t miss. So, when Lippa – although with visible difficulties – took the hit and stood as well as she could, he simply waited for the Pikachu’s electric aura to disappear. “Lippa!” Heitor exclaimed. “Pin him on the ground with your tail!”

“Rai-Rai!” Lippa’s tail raised upward before falling back down like a nasty chain, its sharp thunder-shaped tip locking the Pikachu’s back between the ground and the tail’s pressure.

“What?!” Arthur exclaimed, visibly surprised. “Why d’you do that for?”

“Electro Ball!” Heitor simply replied.

A huge ball of electricity appeared at the tip of Lippa’s paw as she smiled down on her opponent, slamming said ball into the enemy, instantly knocking it out – the poor Pokémon didn’t even have the time to make a sound.

“And for the record,” Heitor concluded nonchalantly, “Raichu is faster than Pikachu and about as agile, Eggman is faster than Sonic, Mario lost to Bowser in Paper Mario 64, and Ridley will never be playable in Smash.”

“But in Smash 4–”

“Stage-locked Assist Trophy.”

“…Okay, but a cool one.”

“Agreed. Oh, and Goku did not ‘defeat’ Vegeta, as it took the combined effort of like four people to bring him down. Him turning into an Oozaru wasn’t any more cheating than Goku being trained by godly beings and, y’know, being resurrected. Sorry to break those myths for ya. Smell ya later!”

It didn’t take long for the next match to begin – Heitor barely had enough time to enjoy music, rub Lippa’s back, share some snacks with her and boom, he had already been called for the next – and last, from his understanding – of his tournament block. Then it would move to the F block, but Heitor would have to make sure he’d win before caring about that.

“And here comes the last match of our tournament’s E Block, folks! On the blue corner, we’ve got the cartoon boy who’s already gotten the nickname of Villain of the Stadium! Give it up for Heitor Heli- HEITOR!”

Heitor would’ve Electro Ball’d that announcer – or rather watch Lippa do it – but well, the nickname was wonderful.

“Challenging him is a Psychic Trainer-class wannabe, going by the nickname Transmission! But how synchronized can she be with a rented Pokémon? Give a round of applause for Emma Parrot!”

Heitor gazed at his approaching foe, a girl with short, messy black hair, and wearing the trademark white and purple gi-like outfit of the Psychic Trainer class. And, like most of them, she wasn’t wearing any footwear. “Does not wearing anything to cover your feet actually help with something, by the way?” Heitor inquired. “Always wanted to know that.”

“Well, I suppose you’ll know that when I defeat you, mister Sutajiamu no Akuyaku.”

Heitor giggled. “Instant cookie for that badass pronunciation, miss Transmission. Good luck, have fun!”

“READY-Y-Y-Y-Y-Y?!” the announcer shouted.

“Go, Lippa! Let’s have another one bite the dust!” Heitor exclaimed as Lippa came out of the Poké Ball, letting out her trademark sadistic laugh.

“Go, Tabernak.” From Emma’s Poké Ball came out a Stantler, standing proudly as the battle began. “Use Light Screen!”

“Lippa: Nasty Plot!”

Both Pokémon stared at each other as their built up their stats, one cackling, the other, stomping the ground with its hoofs.

“Tabernak, use Take Down!”

The Stantler bounced forward, rushing at its enemy’s encounter with all its might.

“Lippa, dodge with Agility!”

Lippa swiftly disappeared, carried by the wind of her newly found quick steps. She ran around the stadium at full speed, eyes locked on Tabernak.

“Now, Lippa! Use Electro Ball!” Lippa suddenly approached the Stantler from behind and struck it with her Electro Ball. The audience cheered as the move connected, but the Light Screen had protected Tabernak from its full power.

“Tabernak! Turn back, and use Hypnosis!”

Lippa was still too close from Tabernak, and the Stantler used that to his advantage to fire a point-blank Hypnosis. Lippa immediately fell back, sound asleep.

Oh, snap. “Come on, Lippa, wake up! Don’t let that stupid thing stop you!”

“Tabernak! Use Jump Kick!”

The Stantler leaped away from Lippa, took some momentum and struck it with a vicious hit from its hoofs, sending it flying against the wall.

“Lippa!” Heitor’s eyes went from his Raichu, to the state of the Stantler. It seemed to be moving a lot slower after landing on the ground. Oh… OH! THAT’S RIGHT! She’s got Static! Heitor let out a staged giggle. “Well, well, well, it looks like we’re both extremely lucky! Heard that, Lippa? It says: thump, thump, thump – another one bites the dust! Thump, thump, thump – another one bites the dust! And another gone, and another gone, another one bites the DUST!”

Lippa’s eyes snapped opened and she took a deep breath, trying her best to get back up from her position.

“No! Tabernak, use Take Down!”

“You should’ve done that sooner, m’dear!” Heitor exclaimed as the Stantler sprung forward for a desperate charge. “Lippa! Finish this with Electro Ball!”

Lippa calmly raised her paw as an electric orb pulsed around it. Then, her eternal grin appearing once more, she fired the Electro Ball, and it detonated on Tabernak, its horns inches away from her face. It flew back towards Emma, and the judges pressed their KO button.

“TRANSMISSION: OFF! THE WINNER is HEITOR, VILLAIN OF THE STADIUM!”

Heitor walked towards his Raichu, patting her on the head. “That was close, but I’m glad you pulled it off. Let’s take a good rest, ‘kay?”

“Rai-Rai!”

“…I should’ve used Take Down while your Raichu was asleep.” Emma muttered from her side, as she patted her Stantler.”

“Yeah, but I guess you didn’t want the recoil damage to be too nasty.” Heitor suggested. “Could’ve gone either way, though, so still!” he offered his hand to her. “Good game. No sarcasm.”

“Thanks.” She said before taking his hand as the audience cheered for them. “And by the way? Not wearing footwear does help for focus. It’s a bit hard to explain, though.”

“Figures… Well, if you also fight in battle simulators, allow me to share my nickname with you so you can explain later. Said nickname would be Huperion.”

“…Are you hi–”

“NO. NO I’M NOT. LET A BOY HAVE INTERESTS OUTSIDE OF CURVES AND SMOOCHING, DARN IT, PSYCHICS ARE COOL.”



“AHA! I think it’s them! HEY, WHAT’S UP, FOTHERMUCKERS!”

The group of teenagers that Heitor had decided to make his target turned back, gazing at him and his spinning braid and the Raichu walking next to him with curious eyes. They definitely were a perfect fit with the skype-shared pictured they had all given to each other before the trip, so, Heitor was positive that he had found the good ones – Saul, Jasmine and Camille, if he remembered their real-life names correctly. But, considering the confusion – or general unimpressed gaze, in Camille’s case – he was receiving, Heitor wasn’t so sure about it anymore. “…If I am in the wrong corridor with the wrong people,” he began, “know that I am still proud of what I just accomplished with that quote. Shall I slowly back away?”

“Too late, you’re hanging with us now.” Jasmine interrupted, the Haunter flying around her nodding with evident satisfaction, probably of having found a new prey of his own to prank over.

Heitor raised a finger. “Then keep in mind that I don’t like bread, so, fork over the onigiris.”

Saul approached Jasmine thoughtfully. “Don’t worry guys, they’re talking about food. They’re definitely one of us.”

“They?” Heitor repeated, blinking. “Oh, come on, you of all people should easily recognize me and my stupid gender!”

“Who”?

“Heitor!”

“Who?”

“…Huperion?”

“Who?”

“…Marshmallow Man?”

“What even?”

Heitor sighed, capitulating. “…B.T.E. Black Tomgirl Extraordinaire.”

Jasmine giggled. “Well there we go!”

“…But Huperion’s so much cooler!” Heitor childishly protested.

“The unwritten laws of social grouping clearly state that you must accept the nicknames your friends give you if you want to keep existing.” Camille objected.

“And food.” Heitor added.

“And food.” The other three repeated in unison, with Murtle nodding solemnly.

“But I totally wanted B.E.T. Instead.” Heitor continued.

“But our Connerd made sure you understood how incorrected Black Extraordinaire Tomgirl was in English!” Saul countered.

“…I can’t help it if it’s grammatically correct in my French.”

“Oh, right, I forgot you spoke like ten thousand languages.”

“OH, COME ON, IT’S JUST THREE. Ugh, fine. We’ll keep B.T.E.”

“B.T.E. joined our party.” Camille said.

“I still want my onigiris, fam.”

“I think you’ve done enough evil for the day to get them.” Jasmine objected. “We watched your matches. Defeating a Pikachu with a Raichu is the equivalent of mass genocide of thousands of children. You’re under arrest.”

Heitor grinned. “Not defeating, m’dear. Obliterating.”

They all gasped.

“…What? What did I–”

“YOU SAY ‘M’DEAR’ IN REAL LIFE?!”

Heitor blinked as they began laughing before glancing at Lippa. “And you see, m’dear, this family of mine is going to make you feel right at home.”

“Rai?”

“Yes, you’ll also get to walk the dinosaur and dance with them.”

“RAI-RAI!”

At the start of the D Block Tournament, Connor had felt confident about his ability to win; victory was likely. Once his final opponent approached, however, that changed; victory became certain.

Hands in his jacket pockets, he snickered at the scowling Nathan. “What a spectacular entrance! Your Swirlix must have struck fear into the hearts of your opponents!” His smile faded a little. “But in all seriousness, I saw your first opponent flee in actual terror. That little ball of cotton proved once again that you don’t mess with Fairies. Nicely done.”

Nathan looked hopeful. “Does that mean you’ll concede?”

Connor scoffed. “You made it to the final round, and I must congratulate you for that, but you won’t progress any further.”

“If this is the final round, what is left to progress to?”

“The winner of each block tournament will participate in a free-for-all, at the end of which the last trainer standing receives an unknown prize. I mentioned this shortly after entering the stadium, you know. I was even addressing you directly."

Nathan scowled playfully. “Nobody can be expected to remember more than a quarter of what you say during a lecture.”

“Then I’ll try to explain the rules in the crudest fashion possible next time.”

Connor looked to the announcer, who conversed with another tournament official. He then scanned the crowd outside the ring. Some of them were waiting for the pair to commence battling, but most of them understood they were taking a break and so talked amongst themselves.

“I thought you said I had a type advantage,” Nathan ventured after a bit, hand extended to keep his Swirlix from licking his hair.

“I should know better than most that type advantages don’t mean much if the opposing trainer is more skilled. I’ve already won a battle in which the odds were against me.”

Swirlix developed the impression that Nathan was playing a game with it, so the boy had to use both hands to restrain the Pokémon. Nathan titled his head slightly towards Connor. “Unless you had to face a Golem, I’m not buying it.”

“Forretress, actually. I faced it in the previous round.”

The living ball of cotton candy cheered happily and used Cotton Guard, after which it wriggled away from Nathan and out of his hands. His hands now stuck together, he sighed and asked, “It didn’t Explode?”

“Oh, it definitely did. Only in the fifth and final turn, but still.”

“And you expect me to believe your Scyther survived that?”

Connor gawked in disbelief. “You think I’d subject Cethrys to that?! No! I withdrew him, slammed the surrender button, and hauled myself over the barrier and hid in the stands.”

“Then how...?”

“Special tourney conditions, remember? My opponent was disqualified for deliberately making his rental faint. I moved on by default.”

“So you technically got lucky?”

Connor pulled his right hand from his pocket, revealing his Pokéball. Expanding it and releasing his mantis, he signalled to the announcer that they were ready to start. “Luck means nothing if you don’t have quick thinking on your side,” he said, looking back at Nathan. “Although it does undoubtedly help.”

“Welcome to the final match of the block tournament!” The announcer’s words met vigorous applause. Connor grinned to see more spectators spilling into the stands, quickly filling the remaining seats. “While undoubtedly the underdog in this match, behind the seemingly innocent smile of his Swirlix lies a fierce warrior waiting to deliver the kiss of death!”

“SWIIIIIIIIRL!”

Despite Connor’s expectations, the crowd didn’t laugh, but cheered. The women especially appeared to adore the little puffball. His composure slipped a little; he clearly had the tactical advantage, but Nathan hadn’t reached the final round by being a fool. There was a possibility that he could lose after all, and if that happened, not only would the prize be outside his reach, but his dignity would also take a serious blow. The others would never let him hear the end of it if his Scyther was beaten by a Swirlix. That was exactly the kind of humiliation he had endeavoured to avoid by keeping clear of Alexis.

“Welcome our unassuming hero, Nathan Davis!”

The crowd roared in support, further adding to Connor’s growing feeling of concern. Luckily, Nathan himself was oblivious. “I like this announcer more than the idiot I had on my side!” he called cheerfully.

“Facing our challenger is the reigning entomologist and his ferocious Scyther, whose bladework would put many a swordsman to shame! Welcome the Insect King, Connor Redreed!”

To Connor’s relief, he received just as much applause as Nathan had. Then he realised that meant as many people expected him to win as there were those who anticipated his failure...

“Who will triumph in this clash of wits and might? Will the monarch be overthrown, or will he defeat the interloper? Let’s find out! First, the style round!”

Nathan spun in a circle and pointed assertively. Both Connor and his mantis tilted their heads in unison, confused at why the other boy would consider that sufficient.

Still maintaining his pointing, Nathan jeered, “Hah, if tilting your heads are all, then I’m sure-”

Connor was tempted to facepalm, but decided it wasn’t very regal. “That's our response to you, idiot, not our actual performance!”

“Well, I’m sure nothing you could do can beat me if you’re dressed like a Sunflora! Do they call you the ‘king’ because of your corona of petals?”

Connor clicked his tongue. “We’ll see.” He turned to the announcer and nodded.

Shortly after Connor had won the second round, he had taken to writing something for the announcer to read during the style part of his final round. Looking at the note, the announcer exclaimed, “In this lifetime, Connor Redreed and his Scyther are confident participants of the Rental Affection Tournament, but a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, they were known by different names... They were known as Jedi Knight Connor and Darth Cethrys!”

Two volunteers rushed forward, one carrying a forest green cloak, the other a black one. Connor took off his jacket and exchanged it, as well as his safari hat - that blasted hat which all three his opponents had now insulted - for the green cloak, afterwards donning it but keeping his face revealed. The second volunteer draped the black cloak over the Scyther and pulled the hood down over the great insect’s head, hiding his face. He stepped back, standing reservedly to Connor’s left.

The volunteers then disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. Connor moved ninety degrees so that he could turn right and face the stands. He extended his arm and opened his hand, as if using the Force from Star Wars. To the crowd’s initial astonishment and following applause, a lightsabre flew into his possession. He smirked and looked to Nathan, who gawked.

“How did you-?!”

Adopting a mask of cold concentration, Connor interrupted his friend’s incredulity by extending his arm to the right and sweeping the lightsabre (glowing green, of course) in a clockwise arc towards him, lifting the beam into a vertical position in front of his face and holding the hilt with both hands in front of his chest, his right hand closer to the beam and his left closer to the pommel. A hushed silence fell.

Still facing Nathan, he brought the lightsabre down in an arc so that the hilt was next to his right hip and the beam pointed diagonally forward, downward, and leftward, thereby protecting his legs. In the same movement, he stepped forward with his left leg and slightly angled his body to the right to enter a battle stance. He allowed himself one final half-second of preparation; the following manoeuvres needed to be conducted in swift succession.

Inhaling suddenly, he raised the lightsabre above his head and stepped forward with his right foot, striking down to the left. He stepped backward with his right foot and pulled his arms back, keeping the hilt to his right and pointing the beam diagonally up and left to protect his face. He let go with his left hand and stepped forward with his right leg, sweeping the beam anti-clockwise to the right, up and over, and suddenly down. He stepped forward with his left leg and did the same on that side but performed a clockwise twirl instead, afterwards sweeping it back to his right, and then finally drawing the beam in an arc all the way from his back over his head, and down, gripping the hilt again with both hands just before performing the smash. He let go with his left hand again and twirled the blade clockwise to his right, thereafter pointing it vertically once more and returning to his original stance. It had merely taken all of seven seconds to perform the display.

Silence remained for a moment longer before applause erupted from all sides. Connor had to use every modicum of his self-restraint not to smile. He was so relieved he hadn’t screwed up the two consecutive twirls and smash near the end, as that was the part of the simple performance with which he had struggled the most in his practices before the tourney and between the rounds. His muscles were tense and hurt slightly from the strain, especially in his right shoulder and middle-left back. But the act wasn’t over yet, and the most difficult part lay ahead.

The Sith Bug Lord stepped forward and raised his scythes, the deadly blades glowing red. Connor turned to face him, performing another clockwise lightsabre twirl to his right before pulling his right arm all the way back and extending his left arm all the way forward, pointing both the beam of his lightsabre and his left index and middle fingers at the Scyther.

He waited for the crowd to grow silent - which didn’t take more than a couple of seconds, honestly - before moving forward, performing two more twirls as he did. Cethrys slashed down with his left scythe, but Connor parried it with a clockwise lightsabre twirl while spinning in a circle, resulting in a parry with his back turned to his opponent. He carried on with the spin and parried another slash, from Cethrys’ right that time. As practiced, Connor continued twirling the lightsabre the whole time, twice more behind his back for effect and once on his front as another parry.

In the most dramatic display yet, he turned sideways and let go of the lightsabre, catching it with his left hand behind his back, parrying yet another slash, spinning around, and resuming the elaborate dance of twirling and parrying blows. To finish off, Connor parried Cethrys’ left scythe, drew it to his right, and leapt into the air, spinning one final time before touching the ground with his left foot first and slashing the Sith just as his right foot connected. Cethrys staggered back and bowed down in surrender.



“What a marvelous spectacle!” the announcer proclaimed, prompting the crowd the roar in affirmation. “A fabulous display of good’s triumph over evil! But more importantly, the judges are letting us know Connor Redreed has triumphed over Nathan Davis in the style round!”

“How?!” Nathan exclaimed, both his and his Swirlix’s jaws practically touching the ground. “You’re so... nerdy! How can you possibly be so agile? And where did you get the time to practice that?"

“I may be a nerd, that is true, but I happen to be a nerd who loves watching swordplay. I used to pretend I was a Jedi all the time when I was younger - mom always scolded me out of fear that I would break bones or decorations. As you just saw, I guess it paid off. I’ve been wanting to do that for years, but I just never had a lightsabre.” He turned and grinned at Cethrys, who grinned right back. “Or such a fantastic training partner and mentor! Incidentally, I acquired both during the festival.”

Nathan groaned. “Ugh, this is getting too sickly-sweet for me, and I’m the one with this thing!” He gestured at Swirlix, who launched itself against his arm and commenced licking his fingers. He shook his arm in a vain attempt to dislodge the Fairy. “Just hug your Bug and get impaled already so that I can win by default.”

“If victory is what you seek,” Connor called dramatically, stepping back and sweeping his left hand towards Cethrys, “then you must first defeat a master of the Dark Side of the Force!”

“It appears our trainers are ready for combat!” the announcer noted. “Let the battle round... begin!”

Connor performed another double twirl with his lightsabre. “Cethrys, use Swords Dance!”

The Scyther obliged by performing a series of twirls and spins more impressive than anything his trainer could dream of. The move alone sent the crowd back into applause.

Nathan glowered at the pair and turned his gaze on his Swirlix. “Use Cotton Guard! Wait, but get off... first.” Realising his error too late, Nathan’s Fairy doubled in size, making it appear like a saccharine tumour was in the process of consuming his arm.

Spinning and pointing the beam at the struggling duo, Connor commanded, “Slash them into strips of candy!”

Cethrys instantly set off in a sprint towards Nathan. The latter yelped and swung his arm in the general direction of the Bug. “Draining Kiss!”

Swirlix scowled at the incoming Scyther for only a moment before smiling stupidly again, pushing off its trainer’s arm, and launching itself onto the Bug’s arm instead. It didn’t seem much bothered by the impact of its landing, focusing more on licking the blade. Cethrys grew distressed and wildly swung his limb to get the Fairy off.

“Hey, Cethrys, quit it!” Connor yelled. “You’ll exhaust yourself and give the little pest more time to leech away your energy! Use Aerial Ace to get rid of it instead!”

“Don’t let go!” Nathan responded, cheering his Pokémon on. “Cling to the grasshopper as if it’s the last piece of sugar you’ll ever see!”

And cling the poor puffball did. Amidst Cethrys’ amazingly fast manoeuvres, Connor could glimpse the look of terror on the hapless Swirlix’s face. However, he was more preoccupied with being offended.

“He’s a mantis, you ignoramus, not a grasshopper! They don’t even belong to the same order! The former is a member of the Dictyoptera, whereas the latter is a member of the Or- Argh, damn it!”

Cethrys had finally succeeded in freeing himself of the Fairy’s sugary grip, but had launched it at his trainer in the process, to which Connor responded by reflexively parrying the incoming Pokémon with his lightsabre. Unfortunately, there had still been enough momentum left for the weapon to knock against his forehead. He dropped it and staggered backwards before tripping and falling.

He wanted to curse and instruct his Scyther to cut the little vermin into a million pieces, but he was too dazed to say anything. He tried to get up too, but his vision was too blurry to allow anything besides pushing himself up into a half-sitting position. He could still hear the crowd going wild, but that didn’t mean much.

Somebody appeared beside him - a first aider, he presumed, since the person pressed something against his forehead and spoke in what sounded vaguely like a reassuring tone. Seeing something green in front of him, he focused on it, willing his eyes to cooperate. His vision seemed to grow clearer before his lines of sight finally merged and he could see Cethrys furiously slicing away at the floating Swirlix.

Connor called out, but his words caught in his throat. The first aider beside him attempted to calm and push him onto his back, but he shrugged the person off, manoeuvred his legs beneath him, and crawled forward. “Cethrys, stop it!” He looked up. The Scyther showed no signs of obeying. “Cethrys!” Noticing the scythes glowing red, Connor willed himself to his feet. Wobbling intensely, he called, “STOP!”

Finally, Cethrys heard him and spun around. Immediately afterwards, three buzzers sounded as all the judges slammed their KO buttons. Connor spotted the poor Swirlix falling out of the air and crashing to the ground. Nathan scooped it into his arms right afterwards.

“Is it okay?” Connor asked, not meaning shout but doing so anyway. The arena had suddenly gone silent.

“No, thanks to you!” Nathan yelled back.

Connor wanted to reply, but more first aiders had arrived and insisted he get onto the stretcher they had brought. By then, Nathan had already dashed to the exit. Connor looked to Cethrys and weakly extended his arm. The Scyther was there in a second.

Placing his hand on the Bug’s right arm, Connor gazed into the Pokémon’s concerned eyes and made his best attempt at a smile. “Thank you.” He fully intended to elaborate, but grew light-headed and almost fell over again. When more protests came from the medics, he withdrew Cethrys into his Pokéball. “Yeah, okay, okay, I’ll get onto the bloody stretcher.”



About ten minutes later, Connor, ever the optimist, tried to convince the personnel of the first aid tent that he was fine and could walk on his own, but he spent another five minutes of negotiating and complaining before they agreed he could leave after another fifteen minutes. Resigned, he called his mother, who entered a state of hysteria for the better part of those fifteen minutes before allowing herself to be placated. After that, Connor browsed through the event results on the World Tourney’s official website.

“Great, I missed most of the other tournament blocks’ matches,” he muttered. Apparently, the D Block was the last one to have finished, with only the F Block remaining. “Hmm, Alexis is the only one who hasn’t battled yet.” He looked at the closest medic. “How long until round two of the F Block starts?”

The lady shook her head. “You won’t make it in time. Is your friend participating?”

Connor nodded and sighed. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. But you ought to be rested and ready for that block’s third round, if your friend makes it that far.”

He nodded again and looked back at his phone. Four more minutes. He looked around for Nathan, but he wasn’t in the tent or anywhere outside it. It hadn’t exactly been Swirlix’s fault that Connor got injured, but neither was it his fault that Cethrys had gone berserk on the poor thing. Speaking of which...

He turned onto his side and rummaged around in his bag until he found the ordinary Pokéball. He released the Scyther, who knelt beside him, eyes cast down.

“Hey.”

Cethrys raised his gaze slightly, just enough to look at him. He hissed softly.

“What? No, I’m not angry with you.”

The Bug looked away again, whining. He trailed his right scythe through the grass.

Connor frowned - a decision he instantly regretted, as he could feel the bandage on his forehead pulling. He partially winced instead. “Of course I still want to keep you! I’m not saying it’s a good thing you Fury Cutter’ed that goofy ball of fur half to death, but you did it to protect me. You were enraged, sure, but it shows you care. How could I be mad at you for that? All it means is that we need to work on your composure.”

Turning back to face him, Cethrys regarded him with despair in his eyes. He whined again.

It tortured Connor to see the proud mantis like that. He extended his right arm, causing Cethrys to flinch. When he simply rested his hand on the Bug’s shoulder and held his neck, though, Cethrys looked more hopeful. He slowly raised his left arm and gingerly folded it around Connor's arm.

“I set out with two canines and the intent on expanding the team only in that manner. That means I can’t keep you on my team forever, and when I ultimately have to send you to Pa, it will probably be a sad moment for both of us. But you’re part of my family now, which means I’ll never stop loving you. I promise.”

Vaguely, Peony wondered if she had seen any ponds with lilies nearby. The Lotad she was renting would look a little more interesting with a flower on its head to balance out the blues and greens, and maybe then Whisk and Socket would stop trying to drink water out of Lotad's hat... thing.

Or at least Socket would stop. Whisk would just play with the flower.

Frowning, Peony sat down in front of her pokemon and pulled her legs into a wide V-shape. She bent forward until her elbows rested on the ground, and then stared at the Lotad, trying to figure out how she could use it.

The tournament was single-battle style, so she couldn't use Whisk's Rain Dance to power up Lotad's water moves and help it regain HP. And honestly, Peony couldn't even figure out what moves this Lotad might know. She knew cat pokemon, not six-legged lily pads.

"What can you do?" she murmured, reaching forward to tap Lotad's beak.

It bobbed its head, and some of the water in the lily pad hat dribbled out, making Whisk jump backwards with a hiss. Socket released a few harmless sparks and waved her tail cheerfully, probably laughing at Whisk for being a scaredy-cat.

"Hey Lotad," Peony said, "do you know Rain Dance?"

Lotad popped its mouth open and blew a bubble in Peony's face.

"So no," she decided, blinking the water from her eyes. "I think that's Bubble. You're what, grass and water type? Uhh... how about Absorb? Can you do that, but like, not on me or those two?"

The Lotad gave a croak. Then it spun around slowly, careful with each of its six legs, and made Whisk glow green, which was not a flattering color against Whisk's pink and cream coat.

Another contestant walked past, presumably on their way to a tent, but in the corner of her eye, Peony noticed the person stop. She wasn't really feeling cheery enough to interact with anyone else today, so she ignored them and poked Lotad's face.

"That wasn't very nice," she said. "Whisk is a nuisance, but he wasn't hurting you."

"Oh hey, you've got a Lotad?"

Person alert. Person alert. Shoulders tensed, Peony grinned and looked up. "Yep! It's sort of stupid-looking, but I guess it's still cute."

The person--girl, she was a girl--laughed and kneeled. "Judging by the way you're talking to her--oh yeah, your Lotad's a girl, by the way--I'm guessing this is your rental?"

Peony let out a nervous giggle. "It's that obvious?"

"I love grass types," the girl said, and Peony thought: no, duh. She had a Snivy on her shoulder, a Lilgant at her side, and a Fomantis in her arms. "Here, why don't I give you some tips for battling while we walk to the tents?"

So Peony hadn't really signed up for this world tour in order to battle, and she was actually trying really hard to prove to her parents that she wasn't good at battling, regardless of what fun interpretations of her empty-headed-ness they projected onto her. But this stranger seemed very excited about her grass types, and Peony felt bad raining on her parade. "Uhh. Sure?" she said.

As Peony picked up the Lotad and set it on her head and then gathered Whisk and Socket in her arms, the girl steepled her fingers and looked over her own team, probably trying to come up with the best tips.

The two girls rejoined the crowds on the festival's main stretch and moved along with the flow for a few steps.

"So, um," the girl started, "I'm Alexis." She looked away sheepishly, cheeks red with embarrassment. "I probably should have introduced myself earlier I guess? Sorry, I'm really..."

This girl was really what? "It's fine," Peony said, smiling. "I'm Peony. You were saying something about tips for using grass types?"

Immediately, Alexis brightened. Yeesh. "So I'm sure you know your type advantages and disadvantages, but one of the important things to remember about using grass types is the physical form of the individual attacks."

Seemed straightforward.

"Vine Whip is a good example of this," Alexis continued. She gave her Snivy an affectionate pat, probably sharing some kind of inside joke or fond memory, though Peony could not determine the exact reason. "With Vine Whip, you can actually use the whip, or bind your opponent--though I guess that's a different move, isn't it?--or anything else you can think of that you might do with a rope. In some circumstances...

At that point, Peony stopped listening. If Alexis's small, energetic gestures were anything to go by, then she was perfectly happy to prattle on about grass types, and Peony could just sit by and pretend to be interested. Then she could go about her life, and this stranger would be satisfied.

"Since Lotad's part water type, I bet you'd have a lot of fun battling fire types," Alexis said. "I don't know how strong this particular Lotad is, but it probably knows Absorb, Bubble, Growl...

Nope, Peony didn't really care. She squeezed Whisk and Socket closer to her chest and nodded at something Alexis said.

"Oh, really?" The other girl laughed, somehow even more excited than before. "I didn't think you'd keep her, since you seem to like cat pokemon so much. You should train her against your Shinx, you know, since Lotad has both a type disadvantage and defensive advantage, and that would really be a good way to-

Peony cut her off. "Hey, it was nice to meet you, but I'm going to just go into a tent now."

Alexis looked more surprised than affronted, and then she flushed and tripped over her words. "Oh, um, was I boring you?"

"Yes." Oh, but that was probably a mean thing to- frick.

As Alexis's face fell, Peony felt her cheeks heat up in shame. She needed something to say, some way to reinvent whatever had just come out of her mouth. "Uhh, I just thought that um, yes you were very helpful and thanks so much for giving me advice." Involuntarily, she gave a quick bow. "Imjustgonnagonow." And then she pivoted and raced through the crowd, grimacing as Lotad dug her feet into Peony's scalp.

Peony ducked into the first tent she crossed and rushed through registration. The sooner she got over with this the better. She sat down in a small waiting area and let the kittens crawl onto the bench to sit next to her, and then reached up to pry Lotad off her head.

"Lo," the pokemon said, gripping harder.

"Uhh, I'm sorry for running?" Peony tried. She gave another tug, but Lotad would not give. Socket released a few encouraging sparks, and Whisk jumped onto Peony's shoulder to try a more forceful approach.

"Ow!" she shrieked. "Listen, Lotad, girl. I need you to let go, okay? If you like that spot so much we can work it into the style round or whatever it is."

Lotad popped off Peony's head immediately. With a sigh of relief, Peony settled the lily pad pokemon into her lap and leaned back. "Here, you can sit on my head and shoot off a couple bubbles while I turn few pirouettes, and then I'll stop turning, and you can do whatever you like. Sound good?"

"Tad."

Hopefully that was an affirmative, because Peony had trouble understanding any pokemon that were not cats. She had trouble understanding people too, because they were not cats.

With that out of the way, Peony slumped her shoulders and tried not to think about how she had just let herself say the first thing on her mind. That was terrible; she knew from years of visits to the principal's office that whatever sat on the tip of her tongue was not the right thing to say, yet the mere anticipation of a tournament made her lose track of herself. Plus she had told this girl that she would keep the Lotad, and she definitely wasn't, and boy was Peony glad she would probably never see Alexis again.

After a few other competitors came and went, one of the tourney organizers called her name. Apparently she was due to take part in the final battle of the first round.

After replacing Lotad on her head, Peony recalled Whisk and Socket and followed the volunteer to a small, secluded room right outside the trainer's box on the battlefield. Nervously, she picked at the stray hairs falling out of her braid crown and peeked out.

"Game face on, Peony," she whispered, plastering on her stage smile. "You remember what I said, Lotad?"

"Tad."

An announcer lady wearing very stylish suspenders and a polka dot bowtie stepped onto a platform and made a grand sweep towards the opposite side of the field. "On my right we have the Flora Queen, the Forest Princess, Master of Sass and Grass, the one and only Alexis!"

Peony let out a long, high whine. This was not her night.

But it was okay. After this, she would never see Alexis again. Plus there was no shame in losing to a "Grass Queen" who was using a grass type pokemon.

Alexis emerged in a shower of leaves, Fomantis perched on her shoulder, and as the leaves cleared, the mantis pokemon leapt forward, Leaf Blade at the ready, and turned a somersault. As it landed, it performed a dance of strikes, like some kind of competitive-diver-slash-martial-arts-master. Alexis gave the audience a small, confident wave, and then put her hands on her hips, ready to battle.

"Game face," Peony whispered. She stretched her smile wide and gave an experimental three-step-turn to make sure Lotad was firmly attached to her head.

"And now, on my left," the announcer bellowed, "we have the girl with a cat's grace, who always lands on her feet, the wonderful Peony!"

Like she was at a dance recital for the Chinese American Association's new year festivities, she stepped out with a perfect performance grin, pulled her feet and arms into second position, and began to turn.

Each time she dropped to her heel to pick up momentum, Lotad shot off a bubble, and when Peony stopped--landing in a perfect arabesque, of course--it turned out those bubbles had formed a miniature staircase in front of her. Lotad hopped off, bounced on each bubble once, and landed with a neat little flip.

That was kind of cool.

To finish, Peony dropped into a deep curtsey and avoided looking Alexis in the eye.

"Wow!" the announcer shouted. "Those were so close that we're going to need a tiebreaker! Everyone for Alexis, let's hear a shout!"

Peony wanted to cover her ears.

"And everyone for Peony?"

Ooh, that felt louder. It might not have really been louder, but it felt louder. Hiding her wince by smiling even wider, Peony stretched out her shoulders and glanced down at Lotad. What moves had Alexis mentioned earlier? Astonish or something?

"It's still close, but I declare Peony the winner! That grand staircase was adorable!" The lady adjusted her bowtie and then stuck her arm out so it pointed down the center of the field. "Now then, let's get this battle on the road. On the count of three, one... two... three!"

"Bubble!" Peony shouted.

"Let's get an Ingrain going," Alexis said, "just to be sure."

Peony didn't even know what Ingrain did. As Lotad scuttled forward, a blowing up a massive bubble, the Fomantis just sat there, meditating or something. Lotad leapt, flung her Bubble, and it hit.

"Good job!" Peony called. "Follow up with a close Growl, and then Astonish!"

Mistake. Ooh, that was a mistake. The moment Lotad came in range, Alexis and Fomantis moved as one, both of them swinging their arms out. Fomantis had a Leaf Blade charged and ready, bladed arms locked back and ready to swing, and that basic instinct that let Peony understand her cat pokemon kicked in.

This was the pounce, the end, the kill. Alexis's experience with the type and confidence in her pokemon gave them a kind of power that Peony didn't have with Lotad.

She dropped her smile and closed her eyes as the attack hit.

The Fomantis, which Alexis had named Amanda, made direct contact with Peony’s Lotad, in what the announcer had called “the most elegant Leaf Blade of the century”. Lotad flew back, and Alexis beckoned for Amanda to catch it with a cradle of vines. Obviously, Amanda complied, and the fainted grass and water pokemon was gently lowered to the ground.

The crowd went wild, cheering loud enough to suggest everyone, even those who supported Peony (however few there were), were now fans of Alexis for her quick and graceful defeat. It was doubtless that Alexis would take victory, since Peony had only barely won the visual component of the match, and then was very quickly defeated by “the Grass Queen”. Alexis looked across the arena to see how Peony was reacting.

Peony appeared to be okay with her loss, which was expected. You don’t really lose if you leave with dignity. But Alexis was good at reading people. The one thing her mother and father had taught her was that you need to read the words to understand the cover, despite the lesson being unintentional. You learn this lesson quickly when asking for dinner at 9:30, and your father had been drinking. Or requesting another blanket, because a heater couldn’t be afforded, and your mother had just lost another job.

Alexis remembered the blood, the tears, the pain, the lies, and she self-consciously pulled the sleeve of her hoodie down further, to cover the scars. She went back to reading Peony, and was surprised to find relief. Peony never cared for this battle, and Alexis snorted in disgust. What a waste of time. If Peony wasn’t going to Alexis and her efforts, then why should Alexis?

She looked at Amanda, fist clenched, and the audience went silent. Amanda nodded, creating a leaf blade in the space between the saved Lotad and herself. She raised it up, preparing to strike, and Alexis was about to give the final command before stopping. Suddenly, she was the Lotad, and Amanda had become an angry, red-faced mother. The leaf blade had become a dull but heavy knife, one Alexis was all too familiar with.

Alexis was bleeding from her arms, legs, and from a cut on her stomach. Small incisions, never too deep, because then they would still bleed tomorrow while Alexis was in school, but they were in great number, and caused excruciating pain. Alexis slumped against the floor, too weak to move, as her mother dropped the blade. “Enter my office with another question again, and I will fucking kill you.”

Alexis was too weak to respond, and received a kick in the gut. “Answer when being spoken to!”

“I understand,” she mumbled, slurring her words.

“Good. Now get out of my office.”

Alexis feebly stood up and limped away, crumpling to the ground just outside. And then she was a spectator again, watching Amanda prepare a final attack on Lotad. Quickly, mercilessly, and the job would be over. But something stopped Alexis from ending it. She instead walked over to Amanda and placed a hand on her shoulder. The leaf blade dissipated.

Alexis was the Lotad again, her father holding a broken bottle and standing over her. There was a policemen with his hand on her father’s shoulder, and he dropped the bottle. The policemen walked away with her parents, and she was brought to a car separate from them. There was mercy that night. The mercy which Alexis had been trying to pay back for years. And so she turned to Peony and extended a hand, which Peony cautiously shook.

“Good fight. I just wish you tried.” A wink, and Peony opened her mouth to protest, but said nothing. Alexis called back Amanda and exited the arena, heading into the open clearing outside.

Clearing wasn’t exactly the right word, because it was full of audience members who had just watched the battle. They clambered over each other, trying to reach Alexis for a complement, or an autograph, or a marriage proposal, or God knows what else. She awkwardly took a pen from someone and began signing pokeballs, plushies, used tissues, with hopes to clear the crowd.



Finally, she completed her seemingly endless task, and like a hollow spirit, began floating to the figgy pudding stand. The sun was high in the air now. On the way over, she saw a lone figure strolling through the paths between the booths. Alexis immediately recognized her as Peony, and went to greet her.

“Hey Peony. You seem… Alone. Maybe by choice. I dunno. I’m gonna grab some figgy pudding. Just wondering if you were interested in joining us?”

Peony hesitated. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Alexis clarified.

With another moment of contemplation, she answered. “Sure, I guess.”

“Hmm, it seems Alexis almost went Berserk on-” Connor quickly checked the other trainer’s details on the official site where he was watching the video- “Peony too. I wonder what provoked her. I’m glad she caught herself just in time, although the battle was already over anyway.”

Cethrys, who walked beside him, winced and looked away. He whined and rubbed his scythes over each other.

“Aww, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He patted the mantis’ shoulder. “Your guilt is already a first step on the road to redemption. Although...”

He flipped over to his text channel with Nathan. Connor had left three messages after departing from the tent, but when Nathan hadn’t responded, he’d tried calling him, still to no effect. (He had left two voice notes after that - one insulting him in frustrated Afrikaans, the other mumbling an apology for his language.)

Head down, he grumbled, “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be forgiving us any time soon.”

He sighed and sat down on a nearby bench, Cethrys taking the spot next to him. Connor released Hades and Seraph to do their own thing too, the former immediately chasing passers-by, the latter demanding to be picked up and placed on his lap. Cethrys watched both with slight amusement, but gave little reaction otherwise.

“Alexis finished her battle relatively quickly, so we have more than enough time to reach her arena before the next round starts. I guess we can view the recordings of the others’ battles for now,” he said, stroking the contented fox. “I hope they went well.”

Hannah’s first battle was against an individual who... couldn’t truthfully be called anything but a joke, much like the person after whom he was unfortunately named. Her next opponent was one Trisha Yearwood (Connor double-checked to ensure he’d read the name correctly). In her case, though the blonde hair was a bit much, she was certainly real - not a cheap knock-off... of a knock-off. Her Sliggoo was adorable, but as squishy as expected.

Connor was delighted to note that Hannah’s confidence had all the ladies in the crowd hopping on their feet to Beyonce’s Single Ladies. It seemed the spectators who travelled with the participants were generous in their encouragement and support.

But Hannah and Charlie met their match in the final round. Their white-haired opponent seemed reluctant to have his name announced, but a glance at the text above the video identified him as Salem Cyrus - an odd name by anyone’s standards. His rental was a Bisharp, meaning the odds favoured him as the victor. Still, a couple of dazzling gleams or signal beams would be sufficient to knock it out, as long as Charlie could avoid its deadly blades.

...He could not. Connor stared in horror as the Bisharp on the screen sliced deeply into the poor Fairy. Hannah rushed to press the forfeit buzzer, after which the footage abruptly cut out. Seraph, who had also watched along, hid beneath her tails and quivered in fear.

“Was that what it looked like when I... when we...?”

Without giving it further thought, he dialled Hannah’s number. After she failed to pick up thrice, he gave up and called Jasmine instead.

“For some reason, my phone has left the seven dimensions, so I can’t answer right now. Leave a message after the-”

“Ugh!” Connor lowered the phone from his ear. Staring at Cethrys, he asked, “Did everyone suddenly forget how phones work? What the hell is the point of-?” Cackling on the other end of the line drew his attention back to the device. “Murtle? Damn it, I’m not in the mood for pranks right now! Please give Jasmine her phone ba- HOLD UP. When and how did you learn to talk?! Never mind, I’ll interrogate you eventually. Please give Jasmine her phone back.”

More cackling and an audibly blown raspberry followed, but the Ghost at least complied. “Ai,” Jasmine responded in a deep, flat tone.

“Jasmine, finally! Do you know whe-?”

“Chu-ha-ha-hai!”

Connor recoiled and scowled at his phone a second time. “What the fox? I’ve never heard one of Jasmine’s Pokémon laugh like that before... Who is this?”

“Where in the seven dimensions is my phone?” the muffled but presumably real Jasmine wondered aloud. “Oh, thank you.” Her phone once again in her possession, she asked, “Did you want something, Connor?”

“Yes! Do you know where Hannah is?”

“More or less,” she confessed. “She called about an hour ago asking for my company to send an exercise bag her way. I imagine you saw her battle against that walking skeleton. Adorable, right?”

“Not really, Jasmine; I’m worried about her.”

“Then we all suggest Arena A.”

Connor sighed into his phone. “And why would I go all the way to the arena where she was beaten?”

“She texted Nathan, who texted Saul, who texted Hannah back, who texted Trisha Yearwood that she was crying because you wouldn’t answer the phone - going straight to voicemail or some nonsense - who came to find us by description because she had leftover fried chicken from her potluck lunch.” She paused to breathe. “She told us everything, and gave us tickets to her show tonight. Said she’d promise to sing something other than country if Hannah came just to lift her spirits. She even gave us extras in case Hannah wanted to invite anyone else.”

Connor turned in his seat to look in the direction of Arena A, squinting to keep out at the afternoon sun. “I’ll do more than lift her spirits.” He ended the call and stowed the phone in his pocket. “Come on, guys. We have a friend in need.”

Seraph willingly entered her Luxury Ball, but Hades enjoyed chasing people too much to hear Connor’s calls. The latter shook his head, sharing an exasperated glance with Cethrys before recalling the pup anyway. His phone buzzed in his pocket - having learned his lesson, he retrieved it at once.





He had been planning to do exactly that, but seeing as she asked for him again, hopefully she was willing to forego being mad at him in exchange for his company. He could handle Nathan’s displeasure, but not hers.







Where Arena A had been filled with excited spectators and eager Trainers earlier in the day, only empty seats and miscellaneous litter remained. And instead of cheering and Pokémon clashing, only Hannah’s relentless onslaught against her punching bag could be heard. She remained oblivious of Connor’s arrival up to the point where he put his hand against her shoulder.

“Hey.”

Hannah lept back in shock, nearly swiping Connor in the jaw with a left hook. But on her bouncing feet, she slowed her breathing and lowered her fists. Wings emerged from behind the punching bag.

“Connor...” she murmured. “You came, and I’m such a... such a mess.” She gritted her teeth and delivered a final kick to the bag, causing a cloud of sand and dust to fill the air.

He grimaced and ran his right hand through his hair. “In hindsight, surprising you like that wasn’t a particularly wise move.”

“My money is still on your doo-hickey being something like that, you know.”

“My what-hickey?”

“Your crest - the things on our phones that track our behaviour and auras and are used to award us Brave Hearts? Yours is emanating a glow now.” She scoffed. “So either you’re wisdom-based or misery-based, because that’s all that’s here for you.” She sunk down beside Wings. “Lots of sickening misery.”

He sat down on her other side, Cethrys doing the same with him. “I’m afraid I lack profound wisdom right now, but I’ve been told I am an excellent listener.”

“I don’t think you’re the one she wants to have words with - the girl’s practically begging to have another conversation with me.”

The voice came from their right, at the entrance to the arena seating. Its owner also had white hair and a bony jaw. By his side, a Bisharp honed its blades.

“A decent human being wouldn’t be here for any reason besides taking responsibility for their utter lack of restraint,” Connor replied, glaring the offender down, “but if you’re not apologetic, you must be masochistic. Leave while your dignity is still intact, if that even matters to you.”

“It’s not my lack of restraint I’m here for, bu-”

“Your name,” called Hannah. “Start with a simple fact that I don’t know.” She stood, fists clenching and releasing.

Connor hastily rose with her. “His name is on the website. You can-”

“He can tell me himself.”

The boy walked down to the rails and jumped over, but came no closer. The Bisharp remained where it stood. “Salem. I wanted to keep to myself and didn’t expect the techies to broadcast it on the internet... but I’m Salem.”

“And the Bisharp was given to you by Annie Mac’s daycare?”

Connor was unsure, as he watched the exchange, if Hannah’s face was moist with sweat or tears, but the anticipation in him - through her - for Salem’s answer was getting to him.

“No,” Salem confessed. “When I arrived at the festival, an official informed me they had run out of Pokémon for rental. However, I was given Bisharp as an alternative through a fourth party source.” He shook his head. “Why do you ask?”

Hannah covered her eyes, wiping her sweat-tears away, and then, taking Connor’s hand, walked towards the stadium seats until they were within small-voice distance. Wings and Cethrys cautiously followed. “Connor, what should we do?” She turned to look down at him, brown eyes begging for mercy in the moment.

“He’s not off the hook yet. If he’s not here to have his teeth kicked in after all, he must feel at least somewhat guilty. He wants to assuage his conscience, but first, he can explain why he didn’t exert more control over his rental.” Facing Salem directly, he added, “No trainer worth even a grain of salt would ever let their Pokémon’s violence go unchecked.”

“If you were handed a ticket for sure victory, would you pass it up so quickly? Besides, I don’t think you watched that footage hard enough, pal, because it wasn’t just Hannah who was going for the opt-out button. Some of us just have more love in us. Some, more determination. But what do you have?”

Cethrys was affronted by that and stepped forward, but Connor held out an arm to block him. Raising a brow, he retorted, “I didn’t realise standing with one’s friends was cause for mockery, but since you ask-”

“He has a freaking lake of willpower and knowledge, you anonymous goon!” Hannah took a step up, fists clenched. “In one measly day, he met a Pokémon - never seen it before - and it came to trust him and his personality so much that it put its own pain aside to keep Connor safe! That Pokémon won’t leave his side now; Connor won’t leave mine, and you’re asking what he has, Salem?!” She spat at his black boots. “Man, I’m calling bullshit. What do you have?!”

Salem’s eyes cast down to his boots where the drops of spit were splitting into creeks, rolling down onto the stadium steps. “I meant no offense, really.” He struggled against his own words. “I’m scared of what’s happened, that I’ve been set up with a Pokémon that will get me kicked from the tourney...”

“Bish,” remarked the Bisharp above, head turned away.

Connor looked thoughtful and looked to Hannah. “I believe I have a solution.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket and showed her a contact on the screen:



Hannah slowly nodded.

Turning the screen towards Salem, Connor continued, “She may have mercy, given how messy the festival was to set up. But we’ll only have until the finals begin to get it all sorted. Fortunately, we have her ear. If you agreed to keep Bisharp and train him, thereby showing us you’re worth more than empty words, we’ll ensure she does show you mercy.” He tapped “New Contact” and held the phone out. “But don’t expect us to take your word for it. Hannah and I will check in on you whenever we see fit.”

Salem marked down his information in Connor’s phone, but when he handed it back, it began to glow an intense indigo from the screen. Once Connor stopped shaking it - all his previous phones’ issues had been solved in that manner - a large digital heart appeared on the screen, loftily spinning in a purple aura.

“So, you’re one of them,” Salem noted, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

“So, you’re one of us!” Hannah exclaimed, embracing Connor.

Though it took him by surprise, he grinned and fully returned the gesture. Cethrys, standing behind Hannah, couldn’t understand what had transpired but recognised the moment for what it was and beamed nevertheless. Connor realised he’d been waiting for years to hug his best friend.

With great reluctance, he broke free from the embrace and studied his phone. A Brave Heart of his own... He could offer numerous reasons for why he had received it, but all, none, or any combination of them could be correct. And he hadn’t given the riddle much thought since the previous night. There was also the matter of asking Salem how he knew about the crests, but that could wait.

Connor swiped the heart away and tapped Annie’s contact, calling to make the arrangements. Initially confused to hear from him, she turned jovial when he explained who his friends were.

“Y’all are making quite the splash, you know. Not only were you the first to earn Brave Hearts out of hundreds of participants, but your friend Alexis has also earned the most Fame Recognition Tokens so far.” She must have lowered her phone, since Connor heard a mumbled, “Boys and their acronyms...” (he could practically hear her roll her eyes) before speaking clearly again, asking, “So, why did you want to call?”

“Are you aware of what transpired during the final battle of the A Block Tournament?”

Annie breathed angrily. “Trisha Yearwood told me everything, yes. You and Hannah can rest assured that we will look into the matter.”

Connor looked to Salem, knowing full well both he and Hannah could hear Annie too. “That’s why I’m calling. Her opponent, Salem, found us and offered an explanation as to why his Bisharp acted the way it did. Apparently, your adoption service had run out of rentals, so he was given a Pokémon from an unverified source.”

“You get rid of one pest, another takes its place.” She sighed. “Thank you for calling, Connor. And please tell Hannah I’m sorry this had to happen. The whole festival was far too disorganised for my taste.”

Hannah looked at him with a question in her eyes. Connor nodded. “What happens now?”

“I’d like to meet Salem and Bisharp, along with all your friends at the Pokémon Centre before the battle royale so I can ensure their health is well myself. Plus, since Salem didn’t receive the Bisharp we intended for him, we’ll exchange-”

“Wait! We agreed he would train this one and settle its temperament.”

“That would be a lovely idea, but it would also be like giving a small child a Rhydon to play with. You just don’t do it, and since we don’t know who this outside source was, I’m afraid the Pokémon could have been trained ahead of time to full frustration with all trainers... It could mean Salem’s well-being.”

“Then I suppose he’ll just have to train Bisharp under my supervision. My father owns a rehabilitation centre and has been working with neglected, abused, and extremely dangerous Pokémon for almost ten years now. It might not sound like a long time, but he’s one of the very best.”

“I’m sure he is, Connor, but-”

“He really is! Look him up. Graham Redreed, ex-husband of Mariel Redreed, internationally acclaimed breeder. Pa might not be as famous as Ma, but he helped her for decades and is just as skilled. I often helped him at the centre, so I’m not too bad myself.”

“If y’all will just meet me at the Pokémon Centre, I think we’ll all be sorted. I lay down that he may keep the... rogue Bisharp.”

Hannah had been walking down the thoroughfair with her arms crossed for quite some time--Connor to her left, Salem to her right--and all three beset by their Pokemon. Well, in actuality, Salem and Connor were; Wings had taken it upon himself to do sick flips and acrobatics in the rafters above them. It was only when he began to spider-crawl above Bisharp that she got nervous there would be trouble.

"So...Saaaaaalem. You're not from America." She folded her hands behind her head and looked up, sternly glancing at Wings. The callout startled Salem...as much as he appeared to be able to be startled.

"You're right, Little Miss Hawaii 2004." He sighed. "I'm Canadian." Mindlessly, he emulated her arm-folding gesture. Bisharp looked up at him, almost scathingly. Hannah caught sight of this in her periphery and wondered what was under a Bisharp's helmet. Perhaps tiny Pawniard constantly plotting to do devious things...like rip into a poor Togetic.

"Our friends are just ahead," announced Connor, who, just after speaking the words caught sight of Jasmine's enormous hair and Saul's towering frame. Cam, however, was in the rafters eating a monaka. "Err, just in case that wasn't obvious," he added sheepishly.

Saul waved them over. "Eeeeeeveryone, I'd like to formally introduce--"

"HEITOR!" Hannah sprinted and slammed into him with a bear hug tight enough to scare his Raichu into readying a thunderbolt--but as he giggled back in a series of M'dear M'dear M'dears, it was plain to see that all was chill and no one was in danger.

Salem coughed and broke up the party. "Can we please go see MacFarlane so I can...prepare for the melee?"

Jasmine put a finger to her lips and then her chin. "You. You're the one who--"

"--yes, I know."

"Why on Earth should we trust or help you?"

"I need neither your trust nor your help, but somebody you know wants to speak to all of us." A sigh. "Together."

Hannah waved her hands out in front of her to break the tension. "Plus, everybody! I've, uh! I've had my spirits lifted! Bright and shiny, like the rainbows over Honalulu, yeah!"

The entire gang, at this point, stared her down. Most of all Connor, whose curiosity and concern could speak volumes.

"Look, the PMC is juuuuust up the road next to the stadium, and I'm sure you're all itching for some exercise before the melee, so wadda ya say? Let's go see Annie and get Salem some help."

And get Charlie away from me so he won't be hurt anymore.

"What about Alexis?" asked Cam, scarfing down the last of her snack.

"What about me?" asked Alexis.

"And what about Peony?!" All turned to see a smaller Alexis standing by Alexis, hands folded like Alexis, and Lotad on head (unlike Alexis.)

Hannah nodded. "Okay then, folks," she began, "we have a Peony."



"So Peony." Hannah, again had her hands folded behind her head in the high-noon sun, shades over her eyes. "Connor showed me your vid before we left the snack bar. I happen to think you have a real finesse about you. A real something-something."

Peony gasped in ego-boost! "Do you really mean it?!"

"Oh yeah. I'd say you could be champion of...Canada, no problem."

Salem scoffed. Peony suddenly tripped and caught herself on Salem's belt, yanking his jeans down to his knees, but saving herself a fall.

"Whew! Another great save!" She and Alexis hi-fived.

"I'd be eager to battle you, y'know."

Salem situated himself and grunted, entering the PMC alone. The others stood outside to chat more.

Jasmine grinned. "Hannah, I'm glad your spirits are high--and I'm glad Connor's crest activated--but really, do you want to help that boy? There's something...baleful...in his eyes."

Hannah shrugged. "I'm sure I'd be baleful too if my panties were flashed to the public."

Saul intervened. "What about the rogue Bisharp?"

"Bish."

"Oh," he replied, opening the Pokemon Center door for Bisharp, who'd been left out.

Heitor noted, "I for one believe you can always measure a trainer by his pokemon, even if they are breeder rentals. This festival is about bonding, m'dears, and that boy either couldn't bond with a Caterpie if he were made of silk, or would consider 'bonding' to be having the Caterpie defend itself against a Spearow."

Hannah and Connor both looked to one another. "But we made an agreement." Hannah looked down and crossed her arms. "I feel like he's...missing something."

Connor sighed. "He certainly won't be joining our merry little band, but the least we could do is provide him companionship and succor while he's facing disqualification...and prevent that from happening."

The others slowly nodded. "Everyone." They turned.

"Nathan!"

"I'm back. I had to get Swirlix special treatment from Critical Care."

Connor looked away, as with Cethrys. "Nathan?"

"Connor."

Alexis stopped Peony from repeating her game with a friendly finger to the lips.

Connor looked back to Nathan. "Both Cethrys and I regret what happened." The Scyther still avoided eye contact, but whined in affirmation.

"Connor, if this had been moments before now, before I had seen two long-time friends trading Pokemon and hugging over their evolution together, knowing that had been one of our dreams together, I would pay the beefiest guy I could find to slug you in the jaw for what happened." He shook his head, holding back a block of breath that preempted tears. "But I've been reminded how much I care about you, about all of you." He held out his hand. "We'll never mention it again because we're adventurers and the past is the past, right?"

Initially stepping forward tentatively, Connor approached with more confidence and shook the outstretched hand. "Right."

Jasmine's eyes were wide with bemusement. "Between Hanlem and Conthan, today is just proving to be resolution day. Sweet gods, I should've checked the horoscopes this morning."

Saul shrugged. "I understood the last part. I'm a Scorpio."

Hannah giggled and hugged Nathan back into the group. "We're getting bigger and stronger! But right now, we have a conversation with Annie to have before the melee!"

"...which starts in 19 minutes, might I add."

Cam chuckled. "My dogs, the arena is right next to the stadium entrance."

As they had exited the stadium, they had turned to a giant patch of grass beset by columns and platforms of differing heights and widths, all surrounded by a holographic blue ring. Men in white coats had been building up the stadium seating around the arena as they had left the building.

"Okay," said Hannah, dismissing the memory, "Annie, then melee."

The PMC door opened, out coming Salem, Bisharp in his arms. With all eyes on him, he looked at Bisharp. "He had a virus called Pokerus, causing erratic behavior. He'll be awake in fifteen minutes, but..."

"But what...?" queried Connor suspiciously.

"You'll want to talk to Annie about it. It's just not my fault." And he was off before any word could catch him.



"Pokerus is highly contagious upon physical contact, so I'd like to see your Togetic, Hannah." Annie had a mask over her face and gloves on her hands, needles at the ready full of serum.

"Yes, of course." She complied, but her eyes were downcast as Charlie refused to make eye contact with her. "Annie...I'd like to surrender him back to the Daycare. I'm unfit to have Charlie in my care."

The others roused from their seats around the office, but Hannah settled them.

"I love Charlie, but to keep him safe is to keep him in your care."

Hannah's phone recited the Brave Heart ring twice, then once more as she checked it. As Annie stared at her, she suddenly nodded and smiled. "Love," she confessed. "My crest is love."

"...Welp, if the Power of Love gives this entire thing its thumbs-up, I guess contesting your decision is dumb," Heitor concluded, nodding to himself. Several agreeing mumbles from the group confirmed that the general feeling was indeed: "...Mm... Eh... I guess, Yeah."

"Welp, if you'll excuse me, I'll, uh, go prepare my mind and soul and stuff for the Battle Royale in a few minutes."

"It's okay, you can just say you're still bad with emotional stuff," Hannah intervened with obvious sarcasm.

"...DARN IT, SHE KNOWS."

"DARN IT, I KNOW."

"Meaning I should most certainly leave before more secrets of my tomgirlish sorry butt are discovered. Lippa?"

"Rai?"

Heitor pulled out his Bluetooth portable speaker. "Let's stride away, fabulously."

"RAI!"

The duo, as expected, marched off with "Walk the Dinosaur" playing in the background, and their friends cursing them for being so fabulous, or at least it would be nice if they were doing that outside of Heitor's imagination. Creativity aside, the duo eventually reached the main building of the Stadium, cutting the music when they did so to avoid further unneeded attention. They then directed themselves towards the shop area, where several sponsored merchants selled their products.

"TMs... TMs... Ah, Technical Machines! There we go!" Heitor happily exclaimed as he approached the stand, staring intently at the various colored CD-like items on display. "...I really wanted that Pokérus, though..." he whispered as he read through the signs. Of course, the opportunistic side of Heitor's mind couldn't help but think about the wonderful stats boost his Pokémon could get upon contracting it, but considering how... weaponized that Bisharp became with it, its social harm would potentially outweigh everything else.
Conclusion: too dangerous, absolutely not.

And speaking of too dangerous... Heitor thought as he turned back, gazing at his wonderful partner with an emotionless gaze. "Toi, faut que j'te surveille..."

The change in tone and language attracted Lippa's attention - she gazed back at her trainer, curious to know the meaning behind his stare.

"...Oh, right! The TM." Heitor's emotion flung back to his face as he turned back, grabbed a yellow-colored TM and asked the shopkeeper to buy it.

A few words and bad jokes later, Heitor had bought it, and moved to the Pokémon playground area next to the shops, were several trainers were playing with the place's toys and trying to communicate with their partners. Heitor let Lippa walk towards an abandoned carboard box containing colored pencil and blank sheets of paper. She took one of each with her paws and released a satisfied chirp, drawing random lines on the sheet of paper with her red pencil. Heitor sat on the chair next to the box, gazing at his Raichu once more. The memories of Connor and Salem's matches came back to his mind. It would be easy, so very easy for this fun-loving being to provoke similar, much more destructive accidents with a fancy smile on her face.

...It would be easy, so very easy for Heitor himself not to care.

"...Lippa." Heitor whispered in a deep, solemn tone. "The next reference is of Sequelitis' Ocarina of Time. Remember that: Ocarina of Time."

Lippa hastily stopped her drawing and nodded, once again concerned by her trainer's tone.

"You live in two dimensions that you need to make a clear distinction of, even when you mix them. The first one is the Stage Dimension. In the Stage Dimension, I allow you to be as cruel, sadistic, dramatic and carefree as you want to be, because it is what you love." Heitor lifted a finger in front of his new partner’s eyes. "The second dimension is the Reality Dimension," he continued. "In this one, I allow you to be as kind, emphatic, hug-heavy and cheerful as you want to be, because it is who you are. In the event that you badly hurt your opponents in the Stage Dimension, you need to make sure you care for them in Reality just as much as you’ve hurt them on Stage. Do you understand?"

Lippa lifted her head. She gazed into the serious eyes of her trainer for several seconds, then moved the thunder-shaped tip of her tail next to her. She discharged all the electricity she had stored in her cheeks only to channel them in said tail. Then, she calmly grabbed Heitor's hands with her paws and put them on her cheeks, where no sane human being would put his or her hands on at the risk of being severely electrocuted, especially due to a Raichu’s aggressive dispositions.

There is no danger here. You can trust me, was the message Heitor gathered. He smiled, removed his hands and patted his wonderful partner's head. "Thank you," he simply said. “Now, then. Lippa? Stage Dimension.”

Lippa's electricity immediately moved from her tail back to her cheeks, and she grinned wildly as tiny sparks escaped said cheeks. "Chuuuu…" she whispered quietly.

"Make sure you keep that in mind, 'kay? We wouldn't want to end up hurting 'mons more than necessary by accidents, especially if they're family. Well then! Now that you're all mentally upgraded and all, I'mma pour this science juice disk into your brain to make you spit more electricity."

"...Rai?"

"Yes, that was an overly dramatic version of what's actually going to happen, and no, I don't believe it hurts."

"Is that how you prepare your 'mons before a battle?"

Heitor turned back, only to see the pleasant figure of a previous opponent. "Oh hey!" he exclaimed. "Emma, right? Or should I go with Transmission?"

"You can go with Transmission," she confirmed with a quick nod. "Though I'm not sure I'm going with Huperion."

"And 'Villain' would be weird," Heitor admitted. "Well, my other internet alias is HyperDot, so, you can go with Dot."

"Dot, then. You have weird names."

Heitor giggled. "Is my general appearance not a clear indicator of my equally general weirdness?"

Transmission blinked, visibly getting a good look at him for the very first time. "…True. You have… stock sentences, also? Is that part of the weirdness?"

Heitor frowned. "You… You noticed already? Yes, I have a lot of one-liners for very specific situations. Are you, like, going to randomly analyze my entire style, now? Because I don’t mind."

"What? Oh, no, sorry, that's… My own weirdness, I guess." Transmission admitted, uneasy. “It’s like the announcer said, I’m a Psychic-class trainer in training. Part of the training is to be observant."

"A-a-a-a-and the other is to walk around barefoot to connect with the world, Ryu-style?"

"…Who's Ryu?"

"Main character of Street Fighter. Attains a form called 'The Power of Nothingness', thanks to which he has perfect harmony between body and mind and basically kicks some major butts whenever it happens. Walks around barefoot a lot."

"That… sounds more like a… state of mind than a form," Transmission commented.

"…Huh. I'l steal that phrasing for later, it seems rightfully profound. Quote-thieving aside, I assume you didn't come here just to stalk me while I psyched my Lippa up, right?"

"Buying a TM. And a quiet place for a phone call, also. Oh and... Since you're here, might as well ask you something."

"Shoot!"

"So, uh, my grandpa's gonna send me a Raichu that evolved in Hawaii, because he knows how much Psychic Pokémon mean to me, but... it lived its life mostly as an electric type, and I have no idea how to handle... that. I've only delt with pure Psychic types at this stage of my training. Easier to... tune with them."

"Got it. And since you noticed how much of a waifu-material Lippa is to me, you want some advice?"

Transmission couldn't help but grimace. "Okay, ew."

"And with that, I finally got a clear, genuine, and not at all awkward reaction from you." Heitor crossed his arms. "Another puzzle solved," he added in his best Layton voice. "But yeah, sure! We already exchanged contacts, so, as long as you stick around the country, we can meet up whenever you get that Raichu of yours - I'll make sure Lippa greets it."

"The Trainer's way?"

"We speak the same language, m'dear. Lookin' forward to our future rematch, Raichu to Raichu! In the meantime, I gotta leave for the melee right now. Wish me luck! Lippa? Reality Dimension."

"Rai-Rai!"

Transmission raised an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Good luck, Dot."

Heitor and Lippa both waved at Transmission and, as they moved to exit the playground, Heitor turned back, only to see Lippa's drawing abandoned with the pencils and sheets of paper: it showed a red-colored devious grin circled by red stripes, one of which directed themselves off the page, as if to mimmick a thunder strike. Heitor grinned, muttered an inaudible "interesting", then joined his partner to the exit. It was time to equip her with the new TM, and hopefully, everything would go close enough to the plan for Lippa's apparent wish to come true. "Thunder strikes, thunder strikes everywhere," he said to himself, giggling softly.



"Wake up, people of the stadium! Wake up, and shower our finalists with your HYPE!"

The audience immediately responded with a resounding ovation. The new announcer, locked in his own mic room somewhere behind the finalists, was definitely better at his job than the others for this occasion, at least in Heitor's opinion. He quickly gazed to each of his sides - not to check if the other participants were still standing on the Finals' stage along with him, since that was already the case, but simply to enjoy the view: six trainers, standing proudly on a platform in front of a cheering audience.

They were to the west of the stadium, the platform interrupting the stands. Located around the arena and in front of the seating were smaller stages where they would supervise the battle of their Pokémon partners. State-of-the-art television screens with a map of the battle arena had been set specifically for that purpose, as well as comfy-looking leather chairs, and other elements that Heitor couldn't yet see. He felt like being in the finals of some worldwide E-Sport tournament - and that was most certainly a good feeling.

"Now, allow me to explain the rules once more!" the announcer continued after presenting each of the participants. Heitor realized - a bit too late - that he had completely missed said presentation, and probably stood there like an emotionless goofball in front of an audience whenever his name had been mentioned.

Ah, well. Old habits died hard.

"Our six champions will be using the Synchrons provided by the Aurum League!" the announcer explained. "With them, they willl see what their Pokémon see, hear what they hear, and feel what they feel - that is also why they'll be able to give them precise orders from their locations. Of course, they'll have access to the map of the battleground. And, speaking of which... Here it is!"

Above the stadium's benches, a general view of the battlefield appeared on big screens for all to see. Scanning the area as numerous cameras showed the various angles of the arena, Heitor spotted six forms on the giant patch of grass. They were, of course, the Pokémon that would do battle among the rocky columns and more or less high platforms. Around their arena were the blue energy barriers, and around that, the stages each Trainer could use their Synchron from.

Not bad, for a low budget, slightly rushed stadium.

"Battlefield." Heitor whispered to himself, giggling softly. "They seriously took some design cues from Smash Bros' third and fourth Battlefield. Hehe. Nice."

"...the moment you've all been waiting for! Let the Trainers move to their location, and after that, the Battle Royale will begin!"

Heitor blinked. Three of the others had already left. "...Oh. Right. Moving." Heitor walked to the corridor that led him to his assigned stage and sat on the chair. On the table in front of him was place the Synchron: a white, round device just wide enough to cover his ear. At the center of the round structure was placed a Synergy Stone, which powered the entire device. Heitor took it and put it over his right ear. Then, a neon-orange stick appeared next to his cheek, which would allow him to communicate directly with Lippa. The screen was already lit up, with the tournament's Block letters representing each Pokémon still active on the field, from A to F.

"...They're going in with purple dot technology." Heitor commented. "Ah, well, can't say they're not trying." With that said, Heitor tapped on the Synergy Stone next to his ear, and closed his eyes.

"Rai!"

When Heitor opened his eyes again, he was... Not exactly seeing what Lippa saw, but was stuck on a fixed point slightly behind her head instead. Turning his own head left and right, Heitor could see the other Pokémon at the edge of the areas: Cethrys the Scyther, Salem's Bisharp, Alexis' Fomantis, a Camerupt - oh, boy, a Camerupt, wasn't that just fantastic - and a Meditite.

"Can you hear me, Lippa?"

"Ra-a-a-ai...!" Lippa whispered back, gazing around her wildly.

"Stay calm, girl. Well, I know you're calm, but I mean, don't show how much you want this too much. If you wanna use your new trump card and hit them all, you need to sharpen your Stage Dimension game."

Lippa stopped looking around, straightened and put her paws behind her back. Still, she couldn't help it - tiny sparks discreetly came out of her cheeks, a sign of her barely contained excitment.

"That a girl," Heitor commented. Looking around the area himself, he noticed that Camerupt was on his far right, and Meditite on his far left. Cethrys was right in front of him, which meant that anything along the lines of an X-Scissor right off the bat would be trouble. On Cethrys' right was the Bisharp, and on his left, the Fomantis. It looked like the starting spots had been randomized, which meant that no one could take advantage of them. He'd just have to go with his knowledge.

...At least two fellow speed demons, but they both focus on close range and got enough power to threaten Lippa. Heitor thought. Meditite can dodge everything immediately with a Detect. Bisharp can reach out for anyone using Sucker Punch. And Camerupt... Heitor's eyes widened. Oh, snap. Camerupt can hit everything if he has Eruption or Earthquake. He... he seriously needs to die, but can't touch him yet. Hmm...

"The participants are set, and all the Synchron have been properly adjusted!" the announcer shouted. "ARE...YOU...READY-Y-Y-Y-Y?!"

"Lippa," Heitor whispered to his partner. "Get away from that Camerupt as soon as this begins. Watch out for Cethrys, and go for Agility - we don't want a Sucker Punch from Bisharp right off the bat. Don't go for Electro Ball until I tell you to, and you know what to do about our secret weapon."

The sparks around Lippa's cheeks bubbled louder as she nodded slowly.

"I-I-I-I-I-I-IT'S SHOW TIME! Let the final round begin at last! BATTLE: START!"

"Lippa! Agility!"

Following her Trainer's order, Lippa leaped to her left side, away from the Camerupt. Gazing around her, she noticed Cethrys rushing to her position, blades ready to cut her down. But before he reached her, a shadowy blur dashed passed him: it was Bisharp, who had started with a Sucker Punch to attempt a surprise assault on Lippa, as expected. The latter grinned, letting the shadowy figure pass right throug her - since she hadn't gone for a damaging move, it couldn't harm her. But then, she fell face first on the ground: the forgotten Meditite had hit her from behind. Heitor gazed on the side: his Synchron informed him that it had hit Lippa with a Vacuum Wave, inadvertedly allowing Lippa to "dodge" Cethrys' Fury Cutter. The Meditite then rushed to Cethrys' position and continued with Force Palm, sending the Scyther flying towards the running Bisharp, who had just the time to register the Pokémon coming his way before the impact. Heitor looked at them: they landed not too far away from the Camerupt's position, but the latter had already moved towards Fomantis, using his Rock Climb to attack her.

"The coast is clear, Lippa!" Heitor exclaimed. "Time for a revenge surprise attack!"

Lippa stood up, turned back and fired an Electro Ball at Meditite. However, the opponent merely moved its shoulder, allowing Electro Ball to graze its torso, but not harm it.

"...Tch. Detect..." Heitor muttered. "Lippa! Grass Knot!"

Lippa oblidged, but before the knot could fully form itself around the Meditite's leg, it suddenly vanished with blinding speed. Heitor's expression went from a confused frown to an awestruck expression when his Synchron informed him of the move used.

Psych Up

"THAT BADASS SON OF A GUN!" Heitor couldn't help but shout, admirative. "He copied our Agility!" His admiration vanished as the Meditite came rushing back towards Lippa, smirking confidently, its right palm opened in front of Lippa's back. He had circled around her.

"...Ah." Heitor whispered. Lippa had just the time to finish turning around that a sudden Sucker Punch thrown by Bisharp, who had crossed the distance from his faraway position to finally deliver a clean hit on the Meditite's cheek, sending it flying before pursuing it. Lippa hastily looking away, following her Trainer's order to look for a potentially nearby Cethrys. The Scyther wasn't as close as Heitor thought he was, but only because he was swiftly moving around Lippa, its bladed arms moving alone in a hypnotizing, rhythmical fashion.

Swords Dance.

O-o-o-o-oh boy, of course we're not the only Setup Freaks around, Heitor thought to himself. "Lippa! Electro Ball! Aim for his feet... NOW!"

Lippa fired her Electro Ball, forcing Cethrys to leap back. Judging from the sudden red light that covered his bladed arms, he had finished his dance and was ready to slice and dice again. Then, Cethrys froze in place as a savage battlecry resounded behind him: Camerupt had just been pushed back by Fomantis, who had used Leaf Storm to send him behind Cethrys. Using his wings, the latter speedily leaped to the side, narrowly dodging a Flame Burst that detonated right where he stood a second ago. However, he did not expect the adjacent flames that always followed the move, and was hit by the remaining embers of the attack.

We need to damage this Camerupt, and we need to do it now.

"...Lippa," Heitor whispered in a half-worried, half-excited tone. "I have a crazy, crazy idea, and I want you to follow me on this one. Ready?"

Lippa's cheeks covered themselves in sparks for a brief moment. "Rai...! RAICHU!"

"ONWARD, MY GRIM REAPER!"

Following her Trainer's order, Lippa ran towards the distracted Camerupt, who was still trying to hit Cethrys with his Flame Bursts - the latter, however, wouldn't easily fall for the same trick twice, and cut the residual embers with precise strikes of his Fury Cutter.

"Lippa! Grass Knot, the biggest you've got for Camerupt!"

Lippa's eyes glew green as she ran, and a giant vine came out of the ground, ensnaring Camerupt's front paws just as it was about to chase Cethrys.

"Jump on Camerupt's back!"

A wild grin decorating her face, Lippa reached for the side of the fallen Camerupt and leaped between his volcano-like bumps, waiting for her next instruction.

"Grass Knot again! Take the vine with your paws and put it in that idiot's mouth!"

Lippa raised her paws in the air as her eyes glew green again: a new thick vine appeared next to her position. She grabbed both ends of the vine with her paws and swung it in front of her, just as the Camerupt began to rise. To its surprise, the Grass Knot hit it between the teeth, locking itself in its jaw like horse reins.

"Pull as hard as you can!"

"Chuuuu!" Lippa shouted as she pulled the improvised reins. Visibly in pain, the Camerupt rose completely, let out its battlecry and reared up, in an attempt to disloge Lippa from her position. She held on to her reins, hurting the Camerupt further as she laughed like an excited cowboy.

Heitor gazed at his Synchron.

Stockpile

"Lippa!" Heitor ordered. "Nasty Plot!"

The Camerupt's front paws fell back on the ground as Lippa stopped laughing, glaring at her enemy.

"Now get out of here, and don't forget to secure your landing!"

Lippa leaped away from her spot just as the Camerupt completed its second Stockpile. She gazed around her, but every fighting Pokémon nearby had taken several steps away, unsure what the Camerupt would do - evidently, the other trainers, like Heitor, wagered that the Camerupt could use something like Earthquake to hit them all. But to their utmost surprise, it used Swallow, and regained its lost health.

"WHAT?!" Heitor exclaimed. "Ugh, kudos on that breeding work." He scanned the area once more to make sure none would attack Lippa, but when the next info from his Synchron came, all worries disappeared from his mind, replaced by the terrifying meaning behind the word that had appeared on his holographic screen.

Eruption

All Pokémon on the field turned their eyes towards Camerupt once more. From its back erupted a lava stream, accompanied by volcanic boulders that flew high up in the sky before falling back on the awestruck opponents. The first one to react was Meditite: its eyes glew blue as it took a defensive battle stance - it was betting on Detect to dodge the oncoming assault.

"Lippa!" Heitor intervened. "Don't lose focus! It's time to unleash the trump card! Start running towards Camerupt - I'll be your extra eyes!"

If Camerupt's using Eruption at full health, he's gonna keep going for a while, Heitor deduced as his partner began her rush. So, at our current distance, the best hiding spot to avoid most of the rocks or to punish Camerupt for them...

"Lippa! Leap to your right!"

"Rai-Rai!"

...Is right next to him.

With a devious smile, Heitor scanned the area. Fomantis was nowhere to be seen, which meant that its small size had already provided it with a hiding spot. But considering its natural lack of speed, it shouldn't be too far away. Cethrys and the Bisharp, however, were rushing towards Camerupt as well - they must've come to the same conclusion as Heitor, as expected. The Meditite hadn't moved from his spot, casually dodging every volcanic boulder with its Detect.

"Rai...! R-Rai!"

Heitor focused on Lippa again. She was running at full speed, visibly agitated. "Lippa, do NOT use Agility! You can deal with this with your own sp- INCOMING!"

Lippa leaped back to dodge a first boulder, then back again to dodge another before jumping below a third one. She hastily rose up, her breathing accelerating, and the sizzling sound of her cheeks grew louder, yet no more sparks came out. That was new, and not in a good way.

Oh gosh, she needs to use it NOW, and she needs her confidence back with it. "Lippa! Laugh, darn it! Laugh as you finally unveil your trump card! Use DISCHARGE!"

Lippa crossed her arms in front of her as she mustered as much electricity as she could.
And then, at long last, she let it burst free.

"Chuuuu-ha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA-HAI!!"

As another series of rocks flew her way, they were obliterated by Lippa's unrestrained Discharge, along with many others. Then, the Discharge spread towards every corner of the field, leaving its marks on the ground, on colums and platforms, and even the walls of the arena. Lippa kept on laughing, as if to fuel her continuous strike, to fuel her rising fighting spirit.

Hearing a nearby scream, Heitor gazed behind his partner and noticed a Leaf Blade hitting Meditite's back - the poor Pokémon had been too focused on evading the Eruption, allowing Fomantis to attack it by surpise. It fell on the ground, helplessly looking at an unstoppable electric current moving its way. Meditite took a direct hit, and although Fomantis was hit as well, her natural resistance to Electric moves allowed her to escape mostly unharmed.

Then, the Discharge stopped, about as suddenly as it had started. Lippa bent her knees, ready to dart away if anything attacked her. But to her surprise, an eery silence had overtaken the arena. She simply stood there, facing the enemy Camerupt with determined eyes. A quiet hiss resounded in the air: it was Cethrys, who was staring down at his foe from the top of one of the many platforms of the arena. Then, a rumbling sound came from below the combatants' feet. On Lippa's left side, the ground burst open, and out of a hole came Bisharp. It peformed a fancy backflip and landed next to the hole, glaring at his foes. Then, Fomantis appeared as well, carefully walking towards the others, appearing on Lippa's right side with a green aura slowly fading around her. It was Synthesis, which she had used to recover the damage she had taken.

The five Pokémon stood still, unconcerned by the fire field that had become the arena, full of burnt boulders, ashen scents in the air and various linear cracks in every side of the battlefield. The Pokémon remained unmoving, yet itching to go. Among them, Lippa's breathing finally calmed down, and her trademark grin resurfaced, as well as the excited sparks that rhythmically came out of her cheeks, an eternal sign of her desire to run, to fight, to perform.

Without her knowing, Heitor grinned along. "You're beautiful," he whispered quietly.







And the Quote credits go to...!

Trainers were traditionally known for their ability to understand the thoughts and emotions of their Pokémon as if they were their own, but the Synchron took all of that to a completely different level. Meditite’s defeat had been announced seconds previously, yet still the Pokémon all remained frozen in anticipation. Yet still the Pokémon Trainers themselves remained frozen in anticipation.

Connor’s eyes darted between Cethrys’ opponents, scanning for even the slightest of movements that would indicate their next move: Camerupt snorted and pawed the ground. Fomantis’ antennae twitched. Bisharp subtly shifted its body forward and backward. Lippa’s tail swept slightly from side to side. Cethrys observed his opponents too, but for a brief moment - had he blinked, Connor would have missed it - his wings stopped quivering and he shot a glance to the stage where his trainer sat. The message was clear.

What do you want me to do?

Taken aback by the display, Connor blinked a couple times before closing his eyes, shaking his head, and focusing on the battlefield once more. Guidance, not sentiment, was needed at that moment. The other Pokémon might have received their instructions already.

“We have probably a few more seconds before something happens,” he whispered quickly. “Bisharp will most likely launch another Sucker Punch. Make a Feint towards him; you’re faster, so if he tries to Sucker Punch you, you’ll hit him first and stun him. If he targets someone else, correct your flight and Pursue Lippa. Go!”

Camerupt reared and roared its challenge, but by the time it reached the apex of its rise, the other Pokémon had already scattered. Bisharp became a shadowy blur headed for Fomantis, while Lippa shot away from the gathering. Cethrys twisted midair and set off in Pursuit. She was faster, but her retreat awakened his predatory insticts, allowing him to overtake her.

His scythe struck its mark, but Lippa’s Agility allowed her to compensate by manoeuvring partially out of the way. While Cethrys had to focus on maintaining his balance and not crashing into the ground, she skidded across the grass in an arc and disappeared behind one of the columns. He dug his claws and a single scythe into the dirt, swinging him around and bringing him to face his opponents again. The chase had brought him quite some distance away.

“We’ll never catch her if we don’t match her speed,” Connor noted, gazing at the columns. “Build up your own Agility! Run towards Camerupt, but stay close to the energy barrier.”

Cethrys nodded and launched himself back towards the fray. With each stride, his speed grew, making it more difficult for Connor to keep an eye on the other Pokémon. Lippa was still nowhere to be seen, while Bisharp’s and Fomantis’ clash gradually moved them towards the centre of the battlefield. Camerupt noticed Cethrys’ approach and arduously shifted its bulk in his direction.

“Careful now,” Connor cautioned. “That camel is planning something.”

Rock Slide

No sooner than he had spoken, Camerupt launched a barrage of boulders and rocks Cethrys’ way. It was essentially a shotgun blast, and Cethrys would run straight into it. Connor’s pulse quickened.

“Aerial Ace, now! Aim for the highest boulder!”

Contrary to his trainer, Cethrys faced the wave fearlessly. He leapt into the air as instructed and delivered two precise slashes on the specified boulder, causing it to split apart and shoot by harmlessly. Cethrys landed with bent knees and feet firmly planted on the ground, shooting the Camerupt a smug, sideways glance before dashing off again.

Connor released the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Great! Circle around and Slash at its side!”

Instead of doing exactly as ordered, Cethrys sped towards the still duelling Bisharp and Fomantis. An ordinary trainer would have wondered if Cethrys would disobey in the heat of the battle, but Connor trusted his partner and silently nodded when Cethrys jumped, swivelled his body horizontally, and used Bisharp as a platform from which to push off. Connor turned back to look at the falling Pokémon, shaking his head in wonder at the daring.

Electro Ball

A flash to the left and some distance behind Bisharp replaced Connor’s sense of amazement with wariness. “Lippa’s back and playing it safe. She has an attack incoming - when I say the word, pull the same trick like you just did with Bisharp.”

Cethrys continued landing Slash after Slash against the Camerupt’s side, staggering it with each blow. Just like how Connor didn’t need to monitor Cethrys’ every move, Cethrys didn’t need to acknowledge Connor’s every command.

“Dodge!”

Cethrys jumped against his opponent and pushed off again, but unlike before, he used the momentum to perform a backwards somersault. The Electro Ball struck the camel’s side with considerable force; however, Camerupt was far sturdier than Bisharp and absorbed the attack, simply taking a few steps to the side. But it was off balance, and that would be enough.

“Hit it with Aerial Ace again!”

Scythes crossed, Cethrys dashed forwards and pushed with all his strength. His blades sliced deeply into Camerupt’s side at first, but then the sheer power with which he heaved forced the Pokémon off its feet and sent it flying a few centimetres off the ground. It struck the energy barrier with a heavy thud and landed half-standing, half-lying.

“That’s the way to do it!” Connor whooped. “Technician for the win!”

Cethrys grinned widely and vibrated his wings at an accelerated pace before rapidly slowing them down. He launched himself towards the nearest platform and leapt from one to the other, always keeping an eye on Lippa. The Raichu was closer now and analysed his movements carefully.

Regaining his composure a bit, Connor reassured, “Don’t worry, we’ll get her soon enough. But we need to close the distance between you two - Heitor won’t take any more risks from this point onward.” As Cethrys passed over Fomantis and Bisharp, who were dueling between the columns, an idea came to him. “Make a weak attempt at surprising Lippa, then duck behind the columns for cover. We want to spook her.”

Emitting a low hiss, Cethrys leapt from the platform in an arc towards Lippa. She fired an Electro Ball at him, but he shifted his weight to the side, easily dodging the attack. He landed and screeched at her, prompting yet another Electro Ball, which he also dodged. Keeping low to the ground, he hissed once more and swept his scythes over each other before speeding back to the columns.

“Okay, good. She can’t see you now, so she has to approach, but she’ll do it slowly and stealthily.” Connor exhaled a shaky breath. “She might attempt one last attack if you briefly move into clear view. Try to steer Bisharp and Fomantis towards...” He scanned their surroundings. “Over there! Towards that platform. The high one with Camerupt’s boulders from Eruption next to it.”

Cethrys nodded and sprinted towards the pair of Pokémon who had, it seemed, forgotten to keep track of their other opponents. Connor viewed the two with grim interest: Bisharp, evidently intent on overwhelming the smaller Pokémon, and Fomantis, desperately parrying the relentless rain of blows. While he hadn’t been present for it, Connor was certain Bisharp currently displayed the same merciless behaviour as during Salem’s battle versus Hannah. But, as the red glow around its arm indicated, it wasn’t Metal Claw that presently posed the threat.

Fury Cutter

Seeing Fomantis’ genuine fear made Connor tremble with rage. “That’s enough! Cethrys, intervene!”

Though he had hung back, relucant to jump recklessly into battle, Cethrys immediately obeyed and directed a Slash upwards, knocking Bisharp’s bladed arm away from Fomantis. The smaller Bug hastily scrambled away, glowing green in an attempt to regain its lost vigour. Cethrys lowered his scythe, briefly glaring at Bisharp before the two engaged.

“Remember, steer him towards the platform I mentioned. Just follow Fomantis, since she’s moving that way.”

With Bisharp and Cethrys locked in combat, Connor could study the former in more detail. He shook his head in disgust. Despite not being a trained professional like Annie MacFarlane, he knew enough about Pokémon pathology to understand the workings of Pokérus; erratic behaviour was certainly one of its symptoms, that he didn’t deny, but the behaviour ceased as soon as the virus was out of the afflicted Pokémon’s system. Moreover, “erratic” within context meant “agitated,” “impatient,” “restless,” “listless,” or an alternating combination thereof. “Belligerent” was definitely not among those.

If anyone had asked him, Connor would have explained that he felt quite passionately about the illness. It was comparatively rare and the vaccine for it expensive to make, which meant the masses were underinformed about its nature. So underinformed, in fact, that it was very often confused with the somewhat similar but altogether different homa ya joka, Swahili for “dragon fever”; while both were highly contagious, exotic conditions, only dragon fever posed serious health problems and incited violence in affected Pokémon. Pokérus was, essentially, harmless. But whereas dragon fever only affected Pokémon within the Dragon and Monster egg groups, any kind of Pokémon, as well as humans, could catch Pokérus. Therein lay the problem.

Of course, nobody had asked him, so he had remained silent and let Annie do her job. The potential for a panic spreading among those in the stadium was still very real, after all. But what he couldn’t stand most of all was people using the illness as an excuse for a Pokémon’s poor behaviour and training. Pokémon often possessed intelligence rivalling or surpassing those of humans, so why was it so difficult to understand that, where appropriate, they had to be held accountable? Pokémon were every bit as capable of kindness and cruelty as any human. Salem might have difficulty accepting that fact, but there was no way around it - Bisharp enjoyed hurting others.

Connor snapped out of his brooding when Cethrys and Bisharp moved into the desired area. To his good fortune, Lippa was indeed hanging around at her old position, though a bit closer. A green glow drew Connor’s gaze to Fomantis, who had noticed the increased presence of Pokémon around it and attempted to recover and hide.

“Cethrys, you won’t like this, but when Lippa shoots her Electro Ball at you, I need you to scoop up Fomantis and launch it into the projectile’s path. The attack won’t damage it too much, but I’d rather not let Fomantis hide for the rest of the match and somehow survive to be the last ‘mon standing.”

When passing by its boulder, Cethrys glanced Fomantis’ way for a second as acknowledgement of Connor’s command before blocking a Night Slash. In what would normally be deemed an utterly foolish move, he manoeuvred so that his back was entirely facing Lippa.

“You’re a sneaky one,” Connor said approvingly. “She seems to be evaluating her options. Wait for it... Okay! Do it!”

Cethrys deftly stepped out of Bisharp’s way, thrust his scythe beneath the very surprised Fomantis, and spun around, launching his tiny opponent right into the ball of electricity. The attack sent her flying. Connor flinched upon witnessing it, but going easy wouldn’t get him very far in the tourney. Cethrys engaged Bisharp again immediately afterwards and steered them both to cover.

“Excellent work! You look like you can keep this up all day, but we should consider wrapping it up soon. See if you can- Wait, where are you going?”

Without being instructed, Cethrys had leapt backwards, towards the energy barrier where Camerupt had fallen. Bisharp naturally charged after him, oblivious of Cethrys’ true intent.

“That’s... not a bad idea,” Connor commented, pleasantly surprised once he had observed the arena in more detail and caught on to his partner’s plan. “Well done!”

Camerupt had been heavily injured by Cethrys’ onslaught, taking a very long time to get back to its feet. As Connor’s Synchron revealed, it had taken equally as long to build up its status again.

Stockpile: 1

Its trainer would therefore be desperate to keep it in the fight. Maintaining a low profile, similar to Fomantis, would be key, but if an opportunity for an easy KO presented itself, Camerupt might just be tempted to take it. Connor was delighted that Cethrys had taken the initiative in such a manner. To believe that they had known each other for only a day was almost impossible.

As hoped, Camerupt took the bait, and Bisharp was too fixated on paying Cethrys back for the consistent humiliation to notice. When the battling pair drew close enough to it, Camerupt roared. Connor expected another Flame Burst, the same as earlier, but it appeared the stress and exhaustion had driven either the Camerupt or its trainer - perhaps even both? - to adopting questionable tactics.

Earthquake

The ground began to ripple. Connor turned his eyes to the wounded camel, interested to see how it would initiate the attack. As if the strain on its face was evident enough, its eyes were also clenched shut in concentration. Its entire body began trembling before it finally opened its eyes and bellowed to the sky.

Cethrys casually floated in the air, viewing the spectacle with as much interest as Connor himself. The other Pokémon felt very differently. The rumbling earth made Bisharp lose its balance and crash forwards. A second later, it was launched into the air, Fomantis some distance away experiencing the same unpleasant fortune. The shaking grew more aggressive, with their opponents being flung into the air higher each time they fell back down.

When Camerupt gave its final bellow, Cethrys propelled himself forwards and struck Bisharp with a downward Slash. The final quake launched Bisharp almost a metre above the ground. It was unconscious before striking the ground.

Connor disregarded the announcer, instead scanning around for Lippa. She must have been on a platform or column nearby if she had avoided the attack, and knowing Heitor, she very likely had. Meanwhile, Cethrys kept an eye on Camerupt, though it wasn’t exactly necessary - it looked spent.

“Keep it up, Cethrys. With all the rubble around you, Lippa will surely attempt an ambush. When I give the signal, strafe to your right, spin around, and Feint towards her.”

Cethrys nodded and moved slowly to his left, making it seem like he was gauging the Camerupt’s stamina so as to avoid raising suspicion. Connor continued searching for the devilish Raichu, but without luck. He turned and cast a glance towards the largely immobile Fomantis when finally, he caught sight of yellow behind the rocks the Camerupt had summoned at the very start of the melee.

“To your left! Where Rock Climb was used!”

Moving faster than he had throughout the entire Battle Royale, Cethrys sprinted towards Lippa. Connor hoped she would flee, but it was wishful thinking - she stood her ground and Discharged electricity in short bursts. The attack couldn’t last forever, though, so Cethrys simply circled her, pulling whatever manoeuvres necessary to dodge her blasts.

While Cethrys evaded Lippa’s attacks, Connor considered what to do. He had shown Cethrys a new move shortly before entering the mini-stadium, just in case one of the smaller Pokémon had tried to copy Nathan’s Swirlix by clinging to him. But perhaps it could be put to more effective use. Connor scanned the area; Fomantis and Camerupt were close enough for the plan to work...

“Aim for her tail! Use Brutal Swing!”

Almost as soon as Connor had finished speaking, Lippa’s attack ceased. Cethrys grinned and hooked his scythe around her bolt-shaped tail end. His scythe pulsing black, he then jumped, focused his centre of gravity at his feet, and swung.

No elaboration on the plan proved necessary, for Cethrys made to fling Lippa at the Camerupt and have the baleful energy take out all three remaining opponents at once. What a spectacular display of power and ingenuity with which to finish the battle it would be! A perfect moment of coordination between Trainer and Pokémon.

Argh, but Connor had forgotten one essential detail: touching a Raichu’s tail was as unwise as touching its cheeks. While Cethrys was mid-swing, Lippa pooled all her electric energy in her tail and unleashed it. The Discharge sent Cethrys crashing to the ground, wracked with convulsions. It would have been an outstanding counter had Lippa’s tail not meant her own downfall too, since it had still been hooked around Cethrys’ scythe. In fact, she took the impact much harder, striking the earth like a flail before her tail came loose and she rolled away like a ragdoll.

Connor gazed in shock and awe. “Cethrys...?”

After the convulsions had ceased, Cethrys remained down, wincing in pain, but still conscious. Determined not to give up, he stirred and attempted to push himself into a kneeling position.

“Hey,” Connor said gently, “it’s fine. There’s no shame in conceding defeat.”

Cethrys whined and sank back down. He angrily swept his scythe across the grass.

“We gave it our all, and yeah, I agree. We should have won. But sometimes, no matter how skilled you are, factors beyond your control may influence the outcome, whether it’s in your favour or against it. Our luck ran out this time, but there will be more opportunities to prove ourselves.”

Rolling onto his side, Cethrys gazed at Camerupt. It seemed emboldened by the double KO.

“I know, you’re running through scenarios in your mind, wondering what you could have done differently,” Connor said, tuning out the announcer and wishing he could be next to Cethrys on the battlefield. “I’ve done it many times myself in the past. What if you had defeated Fomantis and Camerupt before taking on Lippa? Sure, maybe you could have defeated her or forced a tie, but she’s faster and has a type advantage, so maybe she would have beaten us more easily with no other opponents left. Worrying about that won’t help. Alexis and Fomantis have a tough fight ahead of them, so let them worry about what happens next.”

Cethrys sighed and nodded. He closed his eyes, ready to be withdrawn.

Connor grinned. “You were a total badass today, you know. I can’t wait to tell dad about this.”

The battlefield was devoid of other enemies, as the defeated pokemon had been cleared from it. Amanda stood across the field from the only other remaining contender, Camerupt. It was a safe distance for now, since the Camerupt was not on the offensive yet. However, Alexis couldn't have Fomantis continually stay away from combat, like she had for the majority of the battle royale. Every second she did nothing was a second for Camerupt to use Stockpile, and with it already having stockpiled once, time was of the essence now more than ever. Still, she didn't want to recklessly engage; Camerupt had most of the advantages in this battle. It had the effective type matchup, was more capable of inflicting a great deal of damage, could fortify itself with defensive boosts, and naturally moved faster, covering more ground in less time. On the other hand, Amanda had Synthesis, a faster heal ability, and was smaller, giving her agility over her enemy.

However, she needed to bait him into an offensive strategy, or else he could get another Stockpile in. Alexis commanded Amanda to lurch forward, crossing the field in an erratic pattern so as not to be an easy target. Catching on to the fact that Amanda was finally being aggressive, the Camerupt roared at her, emitting a Flame Burst. Amanda sidestepped it effortlessly, and Alexis smirked at her pokemon's ability to adapt so well. However, an explosion from behind alerted her to Flame Burst's side effect, should it not hit its target - a ranged blast emission. A wall of flaming projectile surged towards the charging insect from where the burst collided with rocks.

"Duck," Alexis commanded quietly, despite not needing to conceal her voice in any way. The projectiles collided with the ground, erupting into a firey smoke. After a few tense moments, the obstruction cleared, and Amanda was nowhere to be seen. The Camerupt glanced around in confusion, slowly approaching the space where Amanda had been seconds prior. In place of a pokemon, there was a hole in the ground, too deep to see the bottom of. Camerupt stared at it before spinning around, finally realizing what had happened. But by then it was too late.

Alexis released a breath she had not realized was being held as Amanda burst from another hole across the battlefield, taking adantage of the hole Bisharp had dug. It had partially collapsed from Camerupt's Earthquake, but Amanda was small enough to squeeze through. Now she was dashing across the field, unbeknownst to the Camerupt. Leaf Blade forming, she leaped into the air, landing right behind the Camerupt. With a sharp sideslash, the Camerupt's back leg took a direct hit. It spun aroud, pain blurring its actions, and slammed the ground with its good legs. The ground trembled, and Amanda leaped into the air just the earth violently exploded into a hellhole of crumbling rocks and rolling boulders. She barely caught herself on one of the platforms littering the air above the arena.

Amanda stayed there, taking advantage of the safe location, until the earthquake calmed itself. Just as she prepared to leap down for an aerial attack, the Camerupt countered with a well timed Rock Slide. Amanda had just leapt from the rock ledge, and there was no footing for her to push off of and dodge. Alexis cringed as the attack hit Amanda, but by the grace of Arceus, it wasn't a direct hit. Thank the legendaries for the unreliable accuracy of rock type moves, Alexis thought to herself. Had it been, Camerupt's trainer would walk home with the victory reward. Instead, it grazed the side of Amanda, sending her flying across the arena, into a wall. Thankfully, however, it did not put her out of the match.

Amanda was now across the arena from her enemy, with dangerously low health. Going in for another burst of damage would without a doubt be suicide, but hanging back for the Synthesis use would give Camerupt the opportunity to stockpile a second time, something Alexis couldn't risk. She was almost literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, but there was little time to make a decision. If she waited too long, Camerupt could stockpile and attack before Amanda even healed herself, which would make this even more of an uphill battle. Recklessly, she decided to use Synthesis, and immediately Amanda began to glow with the signature light of the move.

Across the field, Camerupt was charging its second stockpile, and Alexis braced herself for its completion. At this point, Synthesis was done, and Amanda was not as low on health as prior to its use. Her health was dangerously low nonetheless, but there was nothing to be done. Camerupt was done as well, and it knew Amanda was as good as dead should it use the powered-up Eruption Alexis knew otherwise, however, and prepared for the make-it-or-break-it strategy she had somewhat thought through by then. As Camerupt prepared its end-all Eruption, signaling such with the needed Swallow, Amanda burst forward, hopping upward within a Rock Slide. Camerupt lurched backwards in surprise, clearly not expecting Amanda to be capable of using it. Ironically, this had been the result of Camerupt's wild rock attacks. It gave Nature Power--the TM Alexis had purchased as a secret weapon--the form of Rock Slide.

The onslaught of airborne rocks distracted Camerupt long enough for Amanda to place herself in the right location--on Camerupt's back. Meanwhile, the panicking enemy reverted to its original plan and initiated Eruption again. However, Alexis was ready for the predictable maneuver. "Leaf Storm," she ordered assertively, and smiled as the tornado of foliage formed within the center of the Camerupt's volcano-shaped humps. The Eruption detonated at last, and the rocks spewing from its back became laced with the leaves from the storm. Now having complete control of the eruption, Amanda had it gather in a cloud above the helpless Camerupt. She leapt backwards, gracefully commanding it to spiral down onto the enemy. A cloud of gravel, dust, and leaves consumed it, and Alexis once again smiled.

The cloud cleared, and nothing of the attack remained but a worn-out Camerupt in a crater. It looked utterly defeated, but the battle had not been won yet. It wasn't until Camerupt was unconcious and Amanda was gloating above its body. Slowly, to rub in the defeat, Amanda began to walk across the battlefield, surrounded by a clearing cloud of debris. Alexis sighed at Amanda's choice of finisher, but admitted to grinning in minor celebration. Stopping before the crater, Amanda stood eye-to-eye with weakened Camerupt. Slowly, milking each sharp motion, she raised an arm, looking upward as Leaf Blade formed. Even more slowly, the blade was lowered, until it swiftly struck forward. Alexis could feel it make contact in her imagination, despite not being involved directly with the attack. On the loudspeaker, the announcer's voice rang out, and the battle was officiallly declared over.

Alexis had won.

Award Ceremonies are A Lot

Peony

The stadium was louder than the jet engines on the plane from LAX to Osaka International. On Peony's left, Hannah cheered like four avid Stanford football fans rolled into one, and on her right, Nathan cheered like one (1) UC Santa Barbara fan. Peony just sort of whooped like she was rooting for the boys' basketball team at home. Presumably, if her new friends were cheering, then Alexis had won, but she couldn't really see over the horrifically long-legged dude standing in front of her.

He had not been that tall when they were all sitting.

By the time Peony had shouted herself hoarse (how Hannah managed to scream for so long, she couldn't quite figure out), Long-Legs had plopped his butt back down, and Alexis was standing centerfield, hugging her fomantis to her chest. Camerupt's trainer had already recalled the beaten pokemon and was heading for the center as well, one hand extended for a friendly handshake. Off to one side, a bunch of helpers in dorky polo shirts struggled to push a podium out.

Finally, someone got the bright idea to call out a tauros to help. As the podium and event helpers slid across the field, Peony prepared to settle back down and watch, but someone tugged her back up.

"Come on!" Cam beckoned. "We're going to try and get closer."

Why get closer when they had a good angle up here? Peony felt a light nudge from behind (Nathan, probably trying to be nice about her getting a move on) and let herself be dragged along. At least being closer would make picture-taking easier.

Like Hannah and Salem up at the front, the whole posse took the stairs two at a time. Peony winced as she flew down, wishing she had a longer stride so lotad wouldn't almost fall off her head every time she landed. The claws in her scalp hurt.

Just as the group reached the front of the stands, a trumpet fanfare burst out of the speaker system. For a moment, Peony was blinded as hands shoved her past at least three other bodies, and then she stood right at the railing, with her torso pushed out over the bars, and Whisk dangling a good seven feet off the field.

"Ow," she muttered. Whisk yowled like the whiny brat he was. "Do you want to switch with Socket?"

Of course not. Whisk would never forfeit the out-of-pokeball privilege on purpose. He meowed indignantly in answer and wrapped his tail around the railing.

"Now see, that wasn't so hard," Peony told him.

As the trumpet recording continued, a procession began on the left side of the field. The four other finals contestants lined up, marching in knockout order, their pokemon at their sides, while more helpers in bad shirts pointed unnecessarily at the podium. Peony thought she recognized the two guys walking side-by-side, but she wasn't sure.

"Whooo!" Hannah screamed. Seriously where was she getting the vocal chords for that? "Good job Heitor! Good job Connerd!"

Okay so they were part of the group too. The crowd began to pick up volume again, growing louder as the procession neared centerfield, and Peony resisted the urge to clap a hand over the ear closest to Hannah. The trumpet soundtrack pushed up too, and just as all six contestants lined up in front of the podium, and the melody was about to reach a climax, a sudden screech of feedback killed the mood.

Whisk squirmed in Peony's arms, and she recalled him, ears still ringing. She couldn't hold a squirmy pokemon over a seven-foot drop, cat or otherwise. Almost immediately, Socket materialized between Peony's feet and sat down, tail curling loosely around one ankle.

"Uh, sorry about that," said a booming voice over the speakers. A low whine echoed around the stadium before abruptly cutting off, and Peony swore she could hear sighs of relief bounce about in response.

"Yep, okay, hopefully that's fixed now." Pause. "Ella, is that fixed?" Pause. "Yeah? Okay. Let's get this show back on track, yeah?"

A couple of people shouted 'yeah's back.

"I can't hear you!" the announcer sang.

Peony knew it was coming, but she still tensed when the whole stadium hollered for the awards to start, and poor Socket, unprepared for the noise, delivered a shock of static to Peony's leg. At least she wasn't a jerk on purpose like Whisk.

The fanfare started back up, this time at a comfortable volume under the stomping, whistling crowds, and the dorky-looking helpers moved to give directions to the finalists.

"Drumroll please!"

Having been to enough football and basketball games to know the drill, Peony joined in with the rest of the stadium in patting her thighs and stomping. She definitely was not as loud as the rest of the group, especially the three of them who were just jogging in place really fast, but it was the spirit that counted.

"In third place!" the announcer shouted, his tone dropping low for dramatic flare, "these two remarkable trainers managed to tie in a spectacular double knockout! Let's give it up for Connor Redreed and Heitor, er-" Pause. "Ella! Who spilled their coffee all over this?" Pause. "Okay whatever. Let's give it up for Connor Redreed and Just Heitor!"

"Heck yeah!" Hannah shouted. "Connerd! Heitor! Connerd! Heitor!"

That seemed kind of like a mean name for Connor, but since everyone including Nathan joined in with the chant, Peony figured she could yell it too. She cupped her hands to her mouth and matched volume with Jasmine, who stood right behind her. Out on the field, the two boys marched onto the third-place platform and shook hands, their pokemon following suit almost simultaneously.

And then Heitor pulled Connor in for a bro hug, and his raichu leapt into scyther's arms, and a hundred cameras flashed, greedy for the perfect photograph. It was a pretty adorable moment.

"Well wasn't that just the picture of good sportsmanship?" the announcer asked. He sniffled loudly into the microphone, touched by the adorableness. "Congratulations to you both! Can we get another drumroll now everyone?"

The drumroll for second place seemed quieter somehow. Peony guessed it was because everyone's hands hurt from earlier, but the people around her were still plenty excited. Hannah kept running in place and whooping, at least.

"In second place, with her partner camerupt, we have Nadiya Argentum! Good job Nadiya! Even if your last name has apparently doomed you to silver forever."

Camerupt's trainer leapt onto the second place platform and gave the stadium a wave. Her pokemon, alas, had to stay on the ground, but it gave a weak puff of smoke from the humps on its back, and Nadiya's fans cheered just a little louder.

"And now," boomed the announcer. The stadium went silent, and this time a real drumroll played over the speakers. "In first place, the princess of plants, the queen of grass types, the empress of- wait. What's a good 'E' word?"

Pause. Hannah started running in place again, and the rest of the stadium soon followed suit.

"Oh, thanks Ella. The Evergreen Empress and the champion of tonight's tourney! Let's give a big round of applause to...

"Alexis Fortin! To honor your victory, you will get to keep the synchron you used in the final battle, and as an added bonus, we have plated your gold medal with actual gold!"

As one of the dorky-shirt-helpers walked up to present Alexis with her medal, the stadium shook with cheers, and Peony felt herself break into a wide grin. She clapped as loud as she could, not caring that her hands sort of hurt from all the drumrolls, and took in a deep breath. "Go Alexis!" she cheered. "Woohoo!" Honestly, she was so excited that if she had pompoms and wasn't shoved up against the railings, she might have busted out some cheerleading stunts.

Peony wasn't counting, but the stadium began to calm down after a few minutes, signalling the end of the festivities. She breathed a small sigh of relief, happy to finally see a quite moment in sight, but a thought tickled the back of her mind. She might not run into these people again. Unlike Heitor, who she remember was already part of the group, Peony had just met Alexis and the rest that day. She wasn't one-hundred percent sure, but she was fairly certain it would be weird if she tried to tag along with them past the end of the ceremony.

She began to twist around, ready to follow the crowd as everyone pushed towards the exits, but Hannah and Jasmine and Saul were still pressed right up against her. Peony shuffled one foot, and then froze.

She couldn't feel Socket's tail anymore. The little shinx had a habit of curling her tail around Whisk's, or around Peony's limbs or in her pigtails, but suddenly the pressure was gone and- oh this was bad.

Peony whipped back around. "Socket?!" she shouted. "Socket? Where are you? Are you okay?"

Someone tapped her shoulder, and she turned to find Nathan pointing down. She leaned over the railing, and sure enough, there stood Socket. She was probably fine, really, but Peony's heart sank. She was such an awful trainer. It was one thing to lose battles, but losing track of her own pokemon?

Without thinking, she clambered over the metal bars and leapt down. Vaguely, she registered someone from the group turning around, but after that, Peony stopped thinking about anything but Socket. She landed and rolled out of a stumble, and then she ran to her shinx and scooped Socket up into her arms.

"Oh hey, this is a pretty good idea."

Peony turned around to see Hannah, her hawlucha alighting on her shoulder. The rest of the gang was climbing down after them, some choosing to simply jump down, and some sliding under the bars to lessen the distance.

"Hahaha, yes." Forcing down her worry, Peony smoothed her brow and beamed. "I definitely did this on purpose. Uh-to go congratulate Alexis! I couldn't wait! Yep!" Hopefully Nathan wouldn't say anything about her losing track of Socket. That might ruin her new friendships.

As the group raced across the field, Peony jogged after, doubly conscious of Socket's weight in her arms and lotad's weight on her head. She heard a shift in the way the metal stands groaned, ignored it, and then stopped when some crazy dude in winter clothing sprinted past her.

Waves of people washed down from the stands, flooding the battlefield and converging on the podium, where the finalists were finally climbing down. The shouting and screaming came back full force, and Peony stood, stunned, as she was pushed into the blooming mosh pit and buried by the crowds of other sweaty teenagers who had come to watch.

Uh-huh. Definitely started a mob on purpose. This absolutely did not happen because she did the one worst thing she could possibly do as a trainer and lost her pokemon.

"I'm really sorry, Socket," she whispered, hugging the shinx closer. Peony pushed her way towards the center, where she thought the podium was, and tried to make sure stray elbows didn't hit lotad or Socket. And when she finally caught sight of something familiar (Jasmine's distinctive clothing), she beelined straight for the group.

"Oh good, you found us," she heard Nathan say. Then a pair of arms that Peony was fairly certain belonged to Hannah shoved her forwards, right into Alexis.

Flips, she needed something to say. "Oh my gosh!" Peony gushed. She squeezed Socket a little tighter and opened one arm for a hug. "You were so incredible! Congrats congrats!"

"Aww, thanks! I'm glad you stayed to watch."

"Of course!"

Alexis released her, and Peony brought her free arm back in to hold Socket, and she tried to search for something else to say. Should she thank Alexis for the invitation to be friends? Should she congratulate her again?

She was saved from saying anything else by an earsplitting bout of feedback.

"Uhh, sorry kids," the announcer said. "But we need you to clear the field- wait, what's that, Ella?" Pause. "Nevermind. Don't leave. The pyrotechnicians are setting up outside. Remember. No leaving the stadium while the fireworks are being lit. I repeat. Do not leave the stadium while there is literal fire shooting into the sky right outside the exit. Don't do it."