Normal 1.4: Period
Kekoa
October 2, 2019
“Go, Whiskers!”
You don’t say anything as you send Hekili onto the field. What’s the point? She knows her name and what’s about to happen.
“Now, Fake Out!” Just as you see what Whiskers is doing, a shockwave ripples across the field and smacks Hekili head-on. “Great! Get in close and bite the wing!”
“Retreating peck,” you calmly answer.
The meowth rushes across the field but it’s too slow. By the time that he reaches your pikipek she’s already ascending and gives the cat a nasty peck on the head for its trouble. A few wingbeats later she’s up in the air circling the field.
Perfect.
“Echoed voice.”
The air around you ripples, first towards Hekili and then away. It’s barely noticeable but you know that’ll change soon enough.
“Hey! No fair, that’s cheating!”
You glare at the kid. Some young haole brat. He ever heard “no” before? What does “fair” mean to him? The deck stacked in his favor, but subtly enough that he can deny it? Even odds must feel so unbearably unfair. And to top it all off you definitely aren’t cheating. It’s a perfectly valid, very common strategy that if he’d ever watched a damn match he would know he needed a counter for. But, nope, he’s entitled to win, however little work he puts in.
“Louder,” you respond. And Hekili answers with a cacophony of sound and a blast of wind. You definitely felt that one and from the meowth’s disheveled fur you’re guessing it felt it as well. “And keep it up.”
“UGH!” The kid actually stomps his foot like it’ll get you to roll over and give you what he wants. “Jump up and use scratch!”
The cat’s legs bend down and it pounces in one fluid motion. Before you can even order a spiking peck, Hekeli lifts up and the claws only hit feathers. She knows what “up” means, even when other people say it. Clever girl.
Unless the kid’s pulling a spectacular con on you, that’s about as much thought as you’re going to have to put into this. Meowth are frail and devastating up close, but it can’t get a hit in and will go down to echoed voice soon. Battle’s over even if he doesn’t want to admit it yet. And you hope he doesn’t concede until the bitter end. You want to see him crushed until he cries for his mommy. Keep people off the trails who don’t need to be there.
“Fake Out!”
“Steady.”
Meowth sends off another shockwave, but by now the echoed voices are hitting it five times harder than anything it could use. The blast wasn’t even powerful enough to disrupt Hekili. You look up in admiration. Your starter’s getting pretty big now. Almost the meowth’s size. And her echoed voice has more sounds in it, more little ripples that draw a little more power in than the last and send a little more out. Not quite ready to evolve but she’s made progress.
“Work up! We can do this!”
Hmm. The meowth is gathering a little double helix of rising energy around itself. Give it a minute or two and it’ll probably be strong and fast enough to get hits in on Hekili. It won’t last that long. Probably. Persian are glass cannons so you imagine meowth are, too. You could rush in with a rock smash, disrupt the charging, and maybe score a knockout at the same time. But if you fail, you’re in close quarters. Exactly where you shouldn’t be.
You’ll give it a little bit. Then go in for the kill.
In the meantime, you take a quick glance at the adjacent battlefield to see how Kiwi’s doing. Her vulpix against a pyukumuku. The fox is firing off ice shards but the water-type barely even seems to notice. Weak, resisted ice attacks against a bulky ‘mon? It won’t be nearly enough.
“Rock smash,” you call without even bothering to look back at the field.
“Now’s our chance! Whiskers, use—”
There’s a crack sound as Hekeli’s beak collides right with the meowth’s face and the cat is flung back onto its ass. You almost feel bad for it. Not its fault that its trainer gives pep talks in a do or die situation. A flash of light washes over the field. You compliment it with your own withdrawal. Hekeli can be thanked later; for now you have an image to project.
“You owe me six bucks.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” the kid huffs as he crosses the field. You hold out your hand and he slaps the bills into it. “Someday, I’m going to fight you again and I’m going to win.” He looks at you with an intense gleaming in his eyes, like he not only believes his words are true but knows they are.
You turn away from him and walk towards Kiwi’s battlefield. “I’ll take more of your money any time you want.”
Your match was a one-sided slugfest. Kiwi’s is decidedly more stallish. Her keokeo has the faint purple aura of toxic poisoning around it, which means that Kiwi’s opponent bought or borrowed the TM at some point. The fox is panting from poison and heat. The pyukumuku has some shallow cuts from the ice shards but nothing managed to get past the outer layers. Not surprising. Those things are damn hard to hurt.
You get your first glance at the pyukumuku’s trainer. She’s female. Asian. Her dress looks expensive, she’s wearing shades that obviously aren’t the cheap kind, and you think she’s got a designer purse. Not that you’d be able to tell the brand or anything, but it looks like something you’d see on TV. Add in the TM and, well, honestly you’re just shocked that a rich bitch uses a pyukumuku of all things. Good taste in pokémon in spite of everything. Rather have her along than Jennifer.
“Ice shard,” Kiwi calls just a little too loudly. You don’t think she’s deaf and her fox has good hearing. No need to signal things like that. Not that you’re going to tell her that. If she’s smart she’ll figure it out on her own.
Ice rises up around the keokeo and flies towards her opponent. The pyukumuku takes it like a champ and its trainer’s smirk deepens. Fuck her. She’s an asshole like you, but she’s not actually justified in her assholery.
“Spite,” she says. In the same calm “I already know I’m going to win” voice you’d been using three minutes ago.
“Now,” Kiwi commands with the exact same tone as her opponent.
Once the ice shards land, pyukumuku’s mouth opens and its tongue comes out to flip the fox off. Just when its innards are out a dozen sharp ice crystals come out of nowhere to impale themselves in its tongue. The water-type bloats up for a second, its entire body growing a little bit bigger before it hastily pulls everything back inside.
It was a good play. Doesn’t matter. So long as the pyukumuku never inverts itself again there’s nothing Kiwi can do. Eventually her pokémon will go down to poison or spite, which you didn’t even know pyukumuku could learn. And it was a ‘mon you were hoping to pick up later on, so you’d think you’d know what it can and can’t do.
“Kiwi, you might want to spare your fox some pain,” you tell her. She recoils, either from hearing your voice unexpectedly or the weight of your words. But she slowly nods her head in agreement.
“Good job, Pixie.” Two flashes of red cross the battlefield. The pyukumuku’s trainer crosses the field, smirking the whole time.
“And that’ll be six dollars, if you’d be so kind,” she says with the kind of over-affected false innocence you’d never been able to get away with. Kiwi doesn’t react, just pulling the money out (how does she know which bills are which?) and handing it over. “Thank you kindly, miss,” the girl says before sauntering off.
You’re about to call after her to ask for a battle of your own when you feel something shift, bringing your mood plummeting down with it.
“Let’s go,” you say through gritted teeth.
*
“How’d it go?” Jennifer asks as the door opens and Kiwi shuffles in. Jenny’s still in her pajamas and rubbing sleep out of her eyes. It’s a good thing because otherwise she’d probably be chipper.
“Fine,” you grunt. Kiwi just slides into her bed before spreading out on top of the sheets.
“Okay, well, um, if you don’t need it, I’m going to get ready in the bathroom?”
Neither of you answers so she rummages through her bag and picks out some things before stopping by the closet to take a top out. She closes the washroom door behind her.
It’s not too bad yet. Soon you’ll need to lie down for at least a day but for now you can awkwardly stand in the middle of the room. You glance at Kiwi. Worth talking? Nah. You can wait a few minutes and call someone you actually like. Not that she’s that bad. Maybe someday you’ll like her. But that day wasn’t yesterday and it sure as shit isn’t today.
By the grace of the tapus Jennifer doesn’t take a shower. She shuffles out after a time that feels both too long and too short, makeup and hair immaculate and sleep either gone or hidden. Her t-shirt and jeans look like they cost more than everything in your bag combined.
“Alright. You ready to go?”
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Kiwi rises and picks up her cane without a word.
“I’m staying,” you say.
“Tutor’s free,” Kiwi says.
“And I don’t need it.”
Jennifer looks at you funny before you dismissively wave her away. Less than a minute later you’re blissfully, finally, totally alone.
You go into the bathroom and let your pants drop before looking down. No stains. Pad’s still holding. You’d wondered if it wasn’t coming even though deep down you knew damn well it was gearing up. So you hoped for the best, planned for the worst. And the worst came. You don’t know how long you stand there staring down at your too-flat boxers before your gaze lifts to the mirror.
Turn around. You don’t. You should but fuck you you’re a hormonal bitch and you keep looking. There’s a curve under your shirt. You love your binder more than any other thing you own but you’re big and there’s only so much a piece of fabric can do. Below that, well, your torso curves in before your hips flare out and none of it makes you any less of a man but damn it some part of you feels ridiculous even asserting that you could ever be male with your body as it is. And you know your voice is still high. Kiwi said as much. Her world is sound and people are voices and your voice is female so you are too. And. She. Just. Can. Not. Stop. Rubbing. It. In. Your. Cute. Rounded. Face.
You turn around without thinking and leave the bathroom. Then you slide into bed and fold half of a messed-up sheet over your body. You can still see your fucking tiny toes so you have to actually push yourself up a little to get everything covered up by a blanket. Except for the little bulge on your chest that still perks the fabric up, reminding you that it’s there and will be until you’re eighteen and have real money in your wallet. There’s a phantom pain in your arms and legs like something under your skin is trying to press itself out. You can massage it or hit it or scream or cry or try to ignore it but the feeling will never, ever go away.
It gets better. It’s getting better. In three days there’s another shot and then another a week after that and on and on forever. This could be your last period. And your voice is going to change and you’ll have hair and smell different and have almost everything you need to be you. But there’s nothing you can do about that right now. Just lie here and pray that your body turns out okay. It feels like you should be doing something even if you know there’s nothing to be done.
You pick up your phone to call one of the three people you know and like but stop when you see your reflection in the black screen. You should press the button. Ignore the truth. Move on.
You don’t.
You won’t.
You let it fall down to your lap.
This had better be the last time you have to deal with this.
*
October 5, 2019
“You may begin.”
The sound of rustling papers fills the room before abruptly dying out.
Class III Exam. Let’s see if this is more of a challenge than Class II or Class I.
“Rank the following ten pokéballs based on the quality of life they would give a misdreavus.” Awkward wording aside, that’s dusk at the top and dive at the bottom. Wonder if some poor kid believes that luxury balls are always the answer. Or gets caught up in wondering if misdreavus are made of water (they aren’t… right… no, not second guessing yourself).
“Briefly describe the laws around vikavolt capture and sale.” That’s easy enough. Buggers are nearly extinct in the wild due to over-capture so they let trainers capture one but only sell it if they actually complete the entire challenge.
“Which of the following are True Psychics?” Hypno and mr. mime. Alakazam is the trick answer.
On and on. “How do you treat hyperthermia in ice-types? What islands do tsareena live on? What happens if a z-move hits a mega evolved pokémon? Briefly explain how oricorio form changes work. Which of the following are invasive? How do you get a pokémon registered as a ride pokémon?” Some of it’s practical, most of it isn’t. Just meant to make sure you know a few things about a lot of pokémon. That you actually care about this shit.
You’re the first to finish. Out of the 100 questions there are maybe six you’re uncertain on. You can miss twenty and still pass.
All in all? Good day.
You step outside and see Kiwi on the bench. Why did she show up? Special needs tests aren’t until tomorrow. You consider just slipping past her and being on your way since you really aren’t in the mood to get misgendered now. Not when you’re coming down from the high of probably victory.
She stretches and stands up. Her keokeo stirs beside her. “This Room 202?” she asks.
Shit. No dodging this one. “Yes, Kiwi.”
A frown flashes across her face before quickly fading. “Well, how’d it go?”
“Fine.” You start walking down the hall. She follows.
“I went back to Lilypad Square today. I won.”
You glance down at her. She seems very proud of that. Is that her first win ever? “Against what?” you ask.
“Rattata.”
You snort. “Wait, was it held by some preschooler or something?”
She purses her lips and looks away as her footsteps slow down for a moment. You keep plowing on.
“She sounded young. I don’t know how young. Ten to twelve?”
Holy shit. You have to try really hard not to laugh. Girl beats up some kid’s pet mouse and feels on top of the fucking world.
She doesn’t say anything else to you on the way back to the Center.
*
“We should celebrate,” Jennifer says.
“No money,” you answer.
She honest to gods puts her hands on her hips and pouts. “Don’t need money to go to the beach.”
“No swimsuit,” Kiwi answers.
“Same.”
You do have one. But other people seeing your body is blech. Even if you weren’t trying (and failing) to go stealth.
“Well, what else are you going to do?”
“Movies. Inside. Where it’s not hot as shit.”
“Chirlov’s battling. There will be a radio broadcast. In Galarian.”
“Oh, come on!” Jennifer huffs. “It doesn’t feel like we’ve even done anything fun together. Can’t we just do one thing?”
Ugh. Fine. Maybe this will get her off your back.
“I’ll go, but I’m not getting in the water.”
“Great! Cuicatl?”
She groans. “I’m staying on land with Kekoa.”
Jennifer claps her hands and you see Kiwi flinch in your peripheral vision.
*
“You sure you don’t want to come in with me?” Kiwi shakes her head. You don’t respond at all. “Come on, Kekoa, you’re just wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Nothing that can’t get wet.”
Also wearing a binder. And you’d really prefer not to have your clothing vacuum-sealed and showing all your curves to the world.
“I’ll pass.”
“Hmph. Whatever.” Jennifer turns around and slips her shorts and shirt off, leaving her surprisingly modest swimsuit behind. She turns around and kicks the shorts towards the bench you’re sharing with Kiwi.
For a moment you’re facing her head on and, ah shit she’s hot. Like you kind of always knew that from the legs and general face but seeing her exposed makes all the things click. She throws the t-shirt at you, although it flies a little bit to the side. “Don’t be gross.” With that she pivots and walks towards the surf.
Kiwi leans back into the bench and crosses her legs. “What’s she like, scale of one to ten?”
“Eight.”
She snorts. “Can’t tell if she’d be more insulted that you answered or that you ranked her so low.”
“I have very high standards,” you respond. As deadpan as possible. You like some substance under the surface.
That just earns a wicked smirk. “Really, then? So what am I on your scale?”
She’s not ugly. Her hair is nice. The rest is uh. Too short to pull off anything other than cute, and some of her features aren’t really cute enough for cute-cute or ugly enough for ugly-cute. A couple lighter lines on her skin from old scars, eyebrows that are a little too heavy, a gauntness over everything that brings her muscles into contrast but makes her face look really sharp.
“Four.”
She very lightly punches you. Probably aiming for the shoulder, hits near your elbow instead.
“Well, my voice is a ten and that’s all that matters.”
“Really? Well, what’s my voice?”
“Hmm. Three. Too manly for a girl.”
That sends a stone straight into the center of your feelings. The emotions ripple to the edge of your heart and rebound in and pretty soon there are ripples clashing with ripples as the whole thing threatens to spill over into… into what you don’t know. A lot of something.
She moves on before you can find out. “Very windy today.”
You grunt to test the waters. No emotion bleeds through. It’s safe to speak.
“That’s just the sea breeze.”
“Hmm?”
You sigh. Is this a cultural thing or no? And should you tell her if it is? Ah, fuck it. She could figure it out online in a minute.
“Wind rushes onshore in the day, offshore at night.”
“Huh.”
There’s silence aside from the wind. Jennifer is out there somewhere but you can’t really pick her out in the offshore crowd. As your eyes scan they settle on something else down the beach. A metal framework with the first bits of a proper building being grafted on. Another resort to bring more tourists and take your kingdom just a little bit further away.
“Didn’t grow up near the sea, I take it.”
“No. Foothills of the mountains. Never been to the ocean until last week.”
Oh. That’s depressing. Although her people are more desert and lake dwellers so maybe being cut off from the sea didn’t even matter to her.
She goes silent for long enough that you suspect that she’s probably drifted off. Not a bad place to do it, on the beach with the tropical sun beating down. You’re thinking about dozing off yourself. And then out of the blue: “We’ve never battled.”
You glance over at her. She’s sort of half-lying on her side, facing you.
“Because you have type advantage. Wouldn’t be fair.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t suck at this. So maybe it would be.”
You think about correcting her. But fuck it you aren’t going to pump up her ego for her. She can beat up rattata if she needs the boost. You press yourself up and put your hands in your pockets.
“Okay. You’re on. There’s a battlefield near the surf, looks like that match is about to finish up.”
*
“The one-on-one battle between Kekoa of Ak/ala,” the kid you roped into announcing has an awful voice break and stands looking stunned for a second before he decides to power through, “and Kiwi of Anahuac is about to begin. You can, um, I don’t really… send out now?”
Someone’s going to need to teach this kid confidence but it’s not going to be you.
Kiwi actually has to release her keokeo from its pokéball since it’s not out with her. Guess the beach is too hot for an ice-type.
“Pixie, battle time!”
The fox growls as soon as she materializes, ears slicked back and tails pressed down. Does she do that every time she comes out? You’ve barely seen her use the ball.
You toss your ball into the air and catch it. When you release this is all going to go to hell and you need a moment to think. Toss. Catch. No time to set up echoed voice. You’d just get knocked out of the sky by ice shards. Toss. Catch. She doesn’t seem to have anything to hit up close. Just roar for zoning. Toss. Catch. Hekeli’s fast enough that roar doesn’t matter. No reason not to get in close and never let up. Toss. Catc—shit. The ball slips right off the edge of your finger and crashes into the sand. Kiwi smiles. “You going to keep me waiting?”
No. You reach down, flick the ball into the air and catch it before releasing. Need to practice that more. Hekeli materializes and seems to get what’s going on pretty quickly. You glance at the referee and glare to wipe the smile off his face.
“And, uh, begin.”
“Up,” you command. Hekili rises higher as a blast of ice crystals flies right beneath her.
Kiwi’s face is inscrutable. Maybe she doesn’t even know if that hit or missed. “Baby-doll eyes.”
Weird choice but holy shit that is the cutest fucking fox you’ve ever seen. Were her eyes always that big? Like, does she physically make her eyes bigger or is
Shit closing window of attack.
“HEKILI, ROCK SMASH!” you shout. The pikipek quickly snaps out of the trance she was in before cawing and diving straight down. Kiwi starts to speak and a small flurry of ice rises around vulpix in the fraction of a second Hekili needs to descend. It doesn’t matter. There’s a crack in the air for a moment before a very cute fox with very big eyes is flung up herself.
You whistle and Hekili moves. When the vulpix finally comes to earth and stops rolling through the sand it gets another nasty peck on its side. There are shouted orders and little glimmers of ice digging into Hekeli’s side. It doesn’t matter. Too much damage too quickly for the vulpix to cope with.
Kiwi had the better part a week and she hasn’t even figured out how to counter your pikipek? What a loser.
A red flash shines on your smirk. After it fades Kiwi just stands still as a wave crashes into the beach. And another. And another. Then she starts walking across the field towards you as her hand slips into her purse. She drops two bills as she walks by you without stopping. You watch her walk up the beach without any words spoken.
For a moment you want to follow, tell her that it’s alright and she’s a special snowflake just like everyone else. Then there’s anger. She’s just doing this for pity points, to make you feel bad that you won. Fuck her. Manipulative bitch. Using her size and disability to take away your win from you and make you give her what she wants. Well, she’s going to learn right here and now that emotionally abusive bullshit will get her nowhere. She wants a win? She can take it from you over Hekili’s unconscious body.
You reach down to pick up the money before it blows away.