“I want to be a trainer.”

Dad chokes on a bite of chocolate twist, and he pounds his chest with a fist as he attempts to clear his throat. I scramble up to get him a glass of water, and he takes it gratefully before downing most of it in one go. Oscar perks his head up from his bed, discreetly watching.

Coughing one last time, Dad asks, “What?!” His eyes are watering slightly from the choking fit.

“Right, well I- so-” I’m floundering. Different ways to phrase this fly through my head, but all of them seem to lead to a shouting match. Oh, why didn’t I ease him into the idea?! Or have a plan?!

“Hold on,” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before haltingly continuing, “I’m just- confused. Sweet pea, you’ve never shown any interest in being a trainer and this has come a bit out of left field. I don’t want to argue, I just don’t understand is all.”

I don’t want to argue about this either, but I know we will. My nails dig into my knees as I attempt to steel myself. I know he won’t understand, even after I explain, but I need to try. I hear Oscar mrrp and he jumps up on the couch next to me, pushing his way under my hands and looking me in the eyes challengingly. His eyes are asking if I’ll really give up so soon. He loves Dad, but he won’t let him stop us from doing this.

“I know you don’t want me to be a trainer, I know you think it’d end terribly, but I-”

“Litten!” Oscar interjects, his tail whapping my hand as he stares Dad down.

I briefly smile at Oscar before looking back up at Dad. “We want to give going on a journey a chance. I owe it to myself to find out what’ll actually happen if I become a trainer instead of assuming the worst. I certainly owe it to Oscar– Dad you should’ve seen him! He was so excited when I asked, like, more excited than when we got tickets to a live wrestling match.”

“I still don’t get why, Frankie, especially after yesterday. Why now? I’ve been telling you for years how…” He grasps for the right word but huffs in frustration and continues, “-shit it can be! It’s not all good fun and winning a badge, the routes are brutal. You have to put real blood, sweat, and tears into this. It’s gruelling Frankie, it’s not a gap year, it is a job. My parents couldn’t afford to support me through my journey and I became my own boss–if I didn’t put the work in, I didn’t eat. My pokemon didn’t eat. I had to learn how to budget and strategize and map out my own life.”

I look down at Oscar, running my fingers through his fur as Dad speaks, doubt clawing at my conviction. Despite my confident words, I know I probably can’t manage myself like he did; I’m disorganised and easily distracted as is even with all the help Dad gives me to keep on track. He’s saying the same thing he always does; the harsh reality about trainers, the logistics of it all that no one wants to talk about or admit to, but having it aimed directly at me causes my certainty to falter.

Dad continues, “And it won’t always pay off, sometimes you get completely shafted by the unexpected. Sometimes, you give everything, you put a hundred percent into training and strategizing and you still fall short. It’s hard, Frankie, and-”

“I know!” Oscar’s fur stands on end at the volume of my voice. If he keeps speaking, all my determination will be ground to dust unless I force a word in edgewise. “I know, Dad. You’ve said the same thing over and over again, you’ve always stressed the worst parts of your journey, but that’s just one side of it!”

“I’m trying to be realistic-”

“Then tell me more!” I slam my hands on the table and Dad rears back, his mouth closing with a click. “If you're trying so hard to be realistic, then don’t just talk about how much you struggled. You wouldn’t have spent two years of your life doing this if you hated every second. What did you enjoy about being a trainer? Please, tell me.”

I wait, hopeful, but Dad doesn’t say anything, only looking to the side and frowning as he rubs his jaw.

I sigh, disappointed. “You think yesterday should’ve made me understand a bit about the tough side of being a trainer, and it did. I already knew it could hurt, I already knew it was dangerous, but that? It was terrifying.” Dad looks relieved but I keep talking, because it’s my turn to dash his hopes. “But we made it out the other side and it was exhilarating. I never thought I’d be capable of something like that, and now that I know I am? I think this is worth the risk. It’s been so easy to dismiss thinking about becoming a trainer seriously, and it’d be so simple for me to agree with you; that it’d be scary and difficult and I should just go back to school next year… But there’s this feeling, Dad, and I have to see where it takes Oscar and I.”

Though I’m trying my best to keep my voice measured, desperation seeps into my words. If he doesn’t agree to let me do this, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t just wait for my Mother to drop in at whatever moment she pleases, if she even deigns to visit but I can’t just leave him.

“There’s a difference between wanting to do something and being ready to do it, Frankie.”

His eyes hold a severity I’ve never seen before, and the reprimanding tone and condescension underlying his words feels like a slap in the face.

“Were you ready, then?” I spit. “Before your journey, did you think you were completely prepared for everything it threw at you?”

He goes to speak but swallows his words and more hesitantly says, “Well, no, I wasn’t. But-“

I can practically hear him telling me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it. It’s fine when he went off into the world, half-cocked and overconfident. It's fine he’s allowed to do that but I’m not allowed to decide the same? He’s such a fucking hypocrite.

“Then why do I have to be ready!? What the hell does ‘ready’ even mean, anyway? ‘Cause I get the feeling it’s a bar I could never reach in your eyes. I think that no matter what training or studying or planning or whatever else Oscar and I do, it wouldn’t be enough for you. I know some of it will suck”–I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice–“and I’m well aware of ‘reality’. But just because you say it all sucks doesn’t mean I can’t still want to do this. Now I’m just making an informed decision unlike the rest of those overconfident assholes in my year. Lucky me, I’m not naive. I get that you’re trying to protect me from making a ‘mistake’, Dad, but this isn’t a mistake and I’m not you! I’m not going to fuck up like you did!”

We both recoil. I slap a hand over my mouth as if I can shove the words back in. Horror eclipses the rising indignation; why in the name of Arceus did I say that?

“I- I shouldn’t have–“ what, said that? We both know it’s the real reason he’s so against this. All I did was point out the elephant in the room.

I feel small in the silence, and though I know anything I have to say would just make this worse, justifying my lack of a response doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty. I gather Oscar up into my arms and clear my throat awkwardly as Oscar rubs his face against my neck in an attempt to soothe me.

Dad rubs his moustache, mulling over his words, then takes a shaky breath in and carefully starts speaking. “You’re right, Frankie, you’re not me. I just… giving it all up, my team especially, was both one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do and one of the easiest. I… I don’t think I can encourage this when it could all end for you the same way.”

I make a face because I highly doubt it would, but he interupts before I can say anything.

“I know it wouldn’t be exactly the same because you’re,” he makes a vague gesture at me, “but something, anything could happen, and when the rug gets pulled from under you like that once, you tend to stay cautious, sweet pea. I don’t regret giving it all up, that was my choice and I’m glad I made it. There may have been more lucrative options than construction which used my trainer credentials, like working for the League, but… I wouldn’t have been present in your life. Being your dad and raising you has been the most amazing thing I’ll ever do in my life and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

My shoulders drop and most of the built up tension bleeds out of me. He’s still Dad even if we’re disagreeing. I know he loves me, but hearing him say he doesn’t regret choosing me is still an incredible relief. He notices and gives me a reassuring smile. It’s still… strange to hear him talk about what he thinks of why he quit being a trainer quite so candidly.

It’s not like it’s forbidden to talk about, we just don’t. I feel like I have to tread lightly in whatever I say. When I was younger, I truly believed that he’d hated life on the road and wanted to settle down. Y’know, because kids are stupid and believe in nonsense. They think Santa’s real, that people get married at 18, the money under their pillow came from the Tooth Fairy, their parents are in love and happy together. All stupid kid stuff.

I prefer that version of events, that childish ignorance stopping me from feeling a sick twist of guilt from taking all that away from Dad. It’s one of the things that I held up as evidence that being a trainer is shit, if he hated it so much and stopped, why should I bother? It’s a flimsy excuse, especially when compared to the truth.

The truth is I was so scared of being terrible that I refused to even think of trying. Everything else was just an excuse to hide behind. I stroke down Oscar’s back as I think.

Dad takes my silence as an invitation to continue. “Being a trainer is a lifestyle. It sucks you in with the promise of adventure and freedom, but that’s the problem. You get adventure in spades because the routes are full of nasty surprises and you will keep running into them, and sure, you're free to do what you want, but now you have to become self-reliant. Trust me when I say I know why you want this, but I also know how terribly it has the chance to go. ”

This is honestly the most certain I’ve seen Dad about anything; that this is a bad choice. Oscar squirms in my arms and I put him down.

“So just because it could go wrong justifies me never trying? Do you regret the memories you made on your journey, then? If you could go back and choose, you would have chosen to never set out?”

Dad blinks and I can see the moment when he actually hears me, his brows furrowing thoughtfully. I feel like he’s finally listening to me instead of just brushing my words off as youthful ignorance, ploughing ahead with what he thinks is best for me.

“I- No. I was going through something at the time and needed the space and the opportunity to do something of my own. Maybe…” He pauses, contemplating me and Oscar when he suddenly frowns. “Frankie, do you want to do this to avoid your Mother?”

“What? I- No, that’s- that’s not why.” I cross my arms and break eye contact to watch Oscar’s fur shift as I pet him.

It might be a really big pro on my pros and cons list, but it’s not my main reason. I do want to do this for myself. I do.

“I want to do this, for me.” My voice sounds firm, thank Arceus. “But why- why didn’t you tell me about her contract in Kalos? You know I don’t… you know I’d want to know about that. And how did you even know? I thought you hadn’t spoken to her for years, Dad.” I’m so quiet by the end I can hardly hear myself, any confidence I managed to infuse in my tone sucked out in its place is a shaky and pathetic rendition of my voice. I hate how anything to do with her makes me feel like I’m seven again, asking Daddy when Mama’s coming back.

What aren’t you telling me? Is what I want to ask but I can’t. This is hard enough.

Dad shifts on his recliner. “I should’ve told you sooner, I admit. I just didn’t want to ruin your summer. I know you and your Mother don’t… get along. Her assistant emailed me and said your Mother thought it would be good for us to know in advance.”

I don’t know how to feel about the fact that she and I agree on something, so I’ll just not think about it.

His eyes bore into mine, searching for a hint of doubt. “You really want to do this, for you? After everything I’ve told you?” I sit up straighter and nod decisively.

“I need to see what happens, Dad. I want to find out what Oscar and I can really do when we try. Do I need more of a reason?”

“I don’t want you to do this.” Dad sounds resigned, like he knows where this is going to end.

“I know.”

“This isn’t something I can stop you from doing, though, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” We both know he could but if he actually stopped me we wouldn’t be the same after.

He sighs, then swallows, before speaking with incredible reluctance. “Alright. Fine, you can be a trainer.”

----------------------------------------

Oscar stretches his paws out as I gently brush his back; he always gravitates towards this specific patch of sunlight that hits my bed in the morning.

“That feel nice? Sorry I’ve not made time to do this lately, Ozzy.” His fur is especially pretty right now, the rainbow sheen on his black fur coming out nicely with the added sleekness from brushing.

“Litten…” The sound is slightly distorted by his purr.

I briefly pause to pull loose fur off the brush and press it into a tin. Litten fur is incredibly good at acting as tinder; the oil that gives his black fur that iridescence also makes it more flammable, while the fur itself burns slowly. Dad likes to use it to light the barbecue, though I suppose Oscar and I’ll have a new use for when we need a fire on our journey.

My Holo Caster pings and Oscar leans up to look at me, disgruntled at the interruption to his silence.

“Sorry, dude.” I stroke over his ears and he starts purring again, rolling onto his back and exposing his soft tummy while he stretches a paw up.

I discreetly grab my phone as I pet him. I hope it’s not Olivia trying to apologise again… I don’t know what to do with the first one, never mind anything else she has to say.

Message from: Nick

Hey! Yesterday was fun! If you're free do you want to hang out while I buy gear for the routes? Yamper is very antsy to see Oscar again too :)

I smile, my hand hovering over Oscar’s tummy for a moment in my surprise. That move is unfortunately to my detriment as Oscar starts gnawing and clawing my hand as soon as I stop, and though it’s not enough for me to pull away it still smarts.

“Ow! Dude, what’s your damage?”

Oscar looks up at me innocently before politely licking one of the raised red lines he’d just created. I roll my eyes and deliberately keep stroking his fur while I type one-handed.

Message from: Me

Sure! That sounds fun, as grumpy as he looks, Oscar definitely enjoyed running around with Yamper! Where do you want to meet?

We organise to meet outside the hotel in around half an hour, and though I haven’t told Nick I’ve got permission - though less than enthusiastic - to sign up for the circuit yet, hopefully we get everything we’d need to survive on the routes.

“Oscar, hey.” He blinks up at me lazily. “We’re meeting up with Nick and Yamper-” he scowls, “-oh please, I saw you chasing Yamper in the arcade yesterday I know you don’t hate him. Anyway, we’re shopping for trainer gear together.”

“Ten!” Oscar jumps to his feet, lazing in a patch of sunlight forgotten.

I snort at his excitement. “Yeah, trainer stuff! Thought that’d hook you. I need your help to pick a tent, so you're not allowed to skip out.”

“Itten, lit.” Oscar’s far more blasé about meeting Yamper again with the promise of preparing for our journey.

“You chill in the sun, dude, I’ve got to get ready.”

“Litten…” he pleads with his eyes.

“I am not leaving in my pyjamas, I don’t care how excited you are.”

He huffs, “ten,” and flops back onto the patch of sunlight.

I unwrap one of the bandages on my legs to check the cuts from those damn fairies. They’ve scabbed over a bit but are still quite raw. I sigh as I rewrap my wounds, a bit messily, but I suppose I have to learn for when I’m on my own. Oscar doesn’t have opposable thumbs to help out, after all. Yet, that is. No jeans today, then.

When I leave the bathroom, Oscar is lying on his back with his paws up as he flexes them in the air, repeatedly retracting and popping out his claws.

“Oh please, I was in there for,” I check the time,”oh shit I took 20 minutes! We’ve got to run!”

Oscar bounces up and sprints to the door, and I’m barely able to catch up to open it before he runs clean into it. Again.

Oscar picks up speed and veers left once we get outside, clearly thinking we’re going to the cafe.

“No! Dude, come back! We’re going to the hotel!”

He slides across the ground as he skids to a halt, before his paws kick up dust as he starts off again, ears pressed back.

I’m panting by the time we make it, bent in half with my hands on my knees and my ankles aching from the vines. Oscar, on the other hand, is perfectly put together and arrived far before I did.

“What happened to you?”

My head whips up and I see Nick with a perplexed look on his face, his left arm jerking forward as Yamper pulls at his leash, leaping towards Oscar.

“Yamp-“ He makes a choked gurgle as he gets stopped midair by his collar. Oscar jumps in surprise, his fur bristling.

Nick just sighs fondly at the scene.

“I was,” I gasp for air, “racing Oscar.” I manage to get my breathing under control but I know I must be red in the face from exertion.

Nick chuckles, “I’ll take it he won?”

Oscar pauses his attempt to flatten his fur to smugly puff his chest out.

“Yep, I don’t know why I tried, really. Anyway, shopping, mind if I join you? I need some gear of my own.”

Nick frowns for a second before his face clears. “Your dad gave you the ok, then?

“He did!” I wince and focus on Oscar as he ignores Yamper’s friendly advances, adding, “well, it was a bit complicated, but the point is he’s said I can do it so I need the gear. I did want to say thanks, by the way, Your advice really helped.”

When I manage to force myself to make eye contact again, Nick’s making a strange face. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t look quite right. Before it can make me nervous, he shakes it off and tugs Yamper’s leash to start walking.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“That’s awesome, Frankie! Glad I could help. Let’s get to the mall, we’ve got a lot to do.”

I grin and pick up Oscar, setting him on my shoulder as a minor reward for winning; now he doesn’t have to dodge Yamper for a bit, plus he always likes to feel tall.

“I’m not gonna lie, for me this is all very… spontaneous-“

“No kidding,” Nick interjects good-naturedly.

“Shush, anyway by that I mean I don’t have a list of things I need? And - it’s totally cool if not - but I’d appreciate it if you helped me buy the right stuff?”

“Nah you’re cool, I can help. You do have the cash for all this, right?”

“I’ve got some savings, and worst comes to worst I sign up for the circuit and use some of the starting out funds; this does fit the criteria.”

The League gives new trainers a boost by injecting a set amount of funds into their account, though to stop people from abusing the system a clause states that the money from the League must be spent on items to support their journey. I’d rather not use any of it immediately but I don’t know how far my savings will stretch.

“Fair enough, I’ve still not signed either. Wanna do it with me today?” Nick tilts his head questioningly.

“Sure, after we get our stuff? They don’t test you, right?”

“I don’t think they do… guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

Nick gives me the rundown of the basics I’ll need to start out. Some are more obvious; a tent, a sleeping bag, long shelf life food, while others are things I’d have totally missed without him; a water purifier, an axe for firewood, and a shovel. I’d forgotten about some of the practical sides of being a trainer. It’s a good thing I’ll practise with the axe alone; I’ve a feeling I’ll be terrible at it.

Yamper has walked into a couple of things while he diligently watched Oscar up on my shoulder, though Oscar has been putting on an impressive show of pretending he’s not being closely observed.

“I’ll need a charger for my kindle too, I don’t think I can fit the books I’ve been using to teach Oscar how to read in my bag.”

“They probably sell solar-powered portable ones, I wouldn’t be too worried about it. He knows how to read?”

Oscar sneers at Nick who quickly backtracks, “No! Like, it’s cool, I just wasn’t expecting it!”

“Litten…” He aloofly turns to look ahead while Nick looks defeated. He seems to really want Oscar to like him.

“Don’t be a dick, Ozzy, and yeah, not at a very high level but he’s getting there! I’ve always thought it’d make a good base for sign language when he’s fully evolved, becoming a trainer just moves up the schedule a bit. I’ve not started practising yet, though; I’m waiting for him to be advanced enough so we can learn it together.” I scratch Oscar under his chin and he stops glaring to happily melt under the attention.

“Oh that makes so much sense, it’d make communication so much easier too…” He looks thoughtfully at Yamper, who just pants back, gleefully wagging his tail. “Not sure if there’s an equivalent for quadruped pokemon… or if he could learn to read.”

Yamper barks excitedly in response, though none of us are sure if he knows what we’re talking about. Oscar is especially sceptical.

Nick pats Yamper before turning to me and says, “I think we should look at the bags first so we know how much space we have to work with…”

Buying the basics necessities goes smoothly, though I pass the brands sponsored by the League even with the discount offered to trainers all of them would be out of my price range. I feel a bit conspicuous holding an axe; it feels foreign, if well-weighted, in my hands… I resist giving it a test swing, knowing my luck I’d hit something.

I rummage through my bags, feeling like I’m missing something… “Do we need flashlights? I was planning on heading to Cyllage City, there’s a cave and it's supposed to be lit up but…”

“Oh shit, good point!” We pick up all our bags, Oscar wobbling on my shoulder as I heft them up, but he’s determined to avoid the embarrassment of being leashed so he stays up there.

Nick jumps over Yamper’s leash as he circles him and asks, “So you're planning to go to Cyllage City first?”

“Yeah, I don’t think Oscar and I would do very well in Lumiose; Clemont is notoriously difficult to beat no matter what badge.” It’s more that I have no idea if Oscar would behave in the capital's huge crowds. Even with how quiet Camphrier is, he's still a handful. Although he has kept his glowering and growling to a minimum today. In the past he’s taken a swipe at people who just walked too close to me in the mall, so this is a marked improvement.

Nick interrupts my thoughts, replying, “Exactly what I thought, it’s closer but I don’t think I could win, so Grant is my next best bet. Plus, there’s a pokemon I’d like to catch for my team on the way.”

“Oh? Which one?” Even when fantasising about becoming a trainer, I never thought about just what Pokémon I’d like on my team more about the idea of being incredible. Look, I was nine the last time I did this. I wasn’t exactly thinking of how realistic it was.

“Ah, I don’t wanna jinx it.” Nick glances over apologetically but I don’t push.

“Gotcha.” Now that the topic’s been brought up, I’m more preoccupied worrying about what my own team will look like in the future. Oscar crosses over to my left shoulder, and it strikes me that I don’t think he realises that if we’re going to have any chance of success in this circuit, he has got to start trusting people other than me.

We finally make it to the Trainer Store, where they sell potions, pokeballs, and general upkeep supplies for the pokemon themselves. This is where we’re likely to blow most of our money. Pokeball and potion manufactures make a mint on sales, and everyone is prepared to fork over money for the sake of catching more pokemon or keeping their team healthy.

Doesn’t make it any less daunting to see basic potions in the window display priced at 200 pokedollars a piece, that’ll add up quickly.

I wince and ask, “How many of those are we going to need? Route 7 can take ten days or more if you’re unlucky…”

“Don’t forget the pokeballs, they’re 600.” Nick looks a bit grim at the cost of it all.

I look at Nick to gauge if he’s still set on buying this right now, but he nods and we march inside.

I decide to pick up a pack of potions since buying in bulk is at least slightly cheaper than buying singles. 6 should be good… Oscar only really needs one if he’s properly bleeding, and even then I probably won’t use the entire bottle, as most injuries can be rested off.

“Thank Arceus the League lets trainers get treatment free at the centres, the amount we had to pay for Oscars check-up was ridiculous.”

“Right? It’d be nice if they could give everyone discounts for all this stuff but pokeball factories and all that are privately owned most of the time. Not much the League can do about that.”

“Ugh, capitalism strikes again.” Nick snorts at that, and I continue, “Like, I get it, they don’t want underage people battling so they make it stupidly expensive to do, but still; if they can afford for trainers to get care for free, why not everyone?”

Nick shakes his head sympathetically. “Who knows, really… Hey, at least we can battle after we sign up!”

Yamper barks twice, ecstatic at the prospect, and looks up at Oscar pleadingly.

I blink, having completely forgotten we could do that. “Oh, yeah…”

I glance at Oscar, who’s considering Yamper. I don’t know how he’d react to a battle for sport, and he was really quite brutal with the Floette, so being faced with a real prospect that we could battle makes me nervous. I don’t want him to take it too far and actually hurt Yamper, he’s a sweetheart.

Nick’s smile dims at my lack of response and awkwardly starts backtracking, “We don’t have to-“

“No, I’d like to! Just, not right now?”

I can’t just avoid everything because I don’t know what’ll happen and it could go wrong. I’ve done that enough already, I want to battle, I should focus on that.

Nick laughs in relief. “No, not right now, like after we sign since free healthcare y’know?”

“Right. No hard feelings when I kick your ass?”

Nick grins and scoffs, “Excuse me but I’ll trounce you, thank you very much!”

We keep up the teasing banter as I pick up pokeballs and a waterproof mat for Oscar to sleep on in the tent. Or more so; a mat for Oscar to have his own space so he can purposely encroach on mine after I fall asleep. I’ve got pennies left after I pay, making me cringe.

“That is everything, right? Not sure I can afford much more…” I ask as we exit the store.

“That’s everything I’ve got on my list, I’d double-check shit though.”

I nod, though I kind of doubt we’d need anything else; Nick’s list was incredibly thorough.

We’re standing at the entrance to the mall and as Nick’s struggling to juggle keeping a hold on Yamper’s leash and all the bags he has, he asks, “Hey, would it be alright if we put all our shit somewhere safe before signing up? It’s a bit much.”

I sigh in relief. “I was just about to ask, meet at the Centre in twenty?”

“Sure, see ya!” Yamper barks excitedly as Nick starts jogging, bouncing happily after him with small sparks flying off his tail.

Actually, come to think of it, twenty minutes might not be enough for him to make it to the hotel and all the way to the Centre… Eh, he can just message me if he’s running late.

Oscar hops off my shoulder and stretches out his back legs one at a time, and I stifle a grin. He gets mad when I actually say ‘ooo big stretch’ but I always think it. He sticks close for the walk back, and when we arrive home I just dump everything we just bought in my room. I’ll deal with actually fitting everything in the bag later.

I try to check what he thinks about battling Yamper, emphasising the ‘for fun’ part. This isn’t a fight like last time, but he just brushes me off, confident he’ll win. Which isn’t what I’m going after at all-

We make it to the Centre a couple minutes early. The only aspect of the Centre that fits the rest of Camphrier Town is how tall it is; its design looks out of place, a bright and modern island surrounded by the rest of Old Town. Nick is already waiting, talking to Yamper whose leash and collar have been removed.

“- I know it’s all very exciting and everything smells interesting-“ Yamper licks his nose and nods sagely in agreement, “But you can’t just stop following me!”

“Per?” Yamper tilts his head.

Oscar jumps behind my legs in an attempt to hide.

Nick spots us and waves. “Hey! You have everything ready to head in?” He turns to Yamper and says, “We’ll continue this later.” He ruffles Yamper’s ears, who basks happily in the attention, seemingly unworried about another discussion in the slightest.

“Yeah, assuming they don’t need my birth certificate or anything like that…?”

“No, just some ID, your National Insurance number, and bank details.”

I make a face and Nick laughs.

“Yeah, it’s just a lot of paperwork, but the sooner we start the sooner we finish!”

“Yamper!” Yamper’s ears are perked up. It seems he’s finally noticed Oscar. He trots over to the Litten, but Oscar walks backwards and begins picking up speed until Yamper has his ears pinned back as he chases him around my legs.

“Lit! Ten itten lit!” Oscar leaps up and scrambles up my shirt to my shoulder. I’m used to being used like a human cat tree so I don’t flinch at the claws much, but Nick looks horrified at the carnage wreaked in the wake of Yamper.

“Foiled again, Yamper. Sorry Oscar’s so dramatic.” I crouch and Oscar hastily clambers onto my head, growling lowly. He arches his back and three red tufts of fur spike along his spine. “Knock it off, you.” I stroke Yamper, who wags his stubby tail. Now that I’m looking closer I notice it’s shaped like a bolt of lightning. Could he get any more adorable?

“Sorry, Yamper bothers your Litten so much-“

“Nah, you’re fine. Oscar’s just a drama queen.” I pick him up off my head and hold him under his front legs, the rest of him dangling in the air. “He’s having fun.” Oscar turns his head up against my chest, betrayal in his eyes. I just tickle under his chin.

We turn towards the Centre’s entrance. It’s empty outside but I can see a smattering of people milling about in the lobby, I consciously unclench my hand, where crevices have been left from my nails digging into my palm.

“Ready?” asks Nick.

This feels like something I can’t turn back from: the next time I go through these doors, I’ll be a trainer. I adjust Oscar in my arms so his front paws rest over my forearm. He turns to look at me, excitement flickering in his yellow eyes.

I nod decisively and say, “Let’s go,” and Oscar’s face lights up with a toothy grin.

Nurse Joy’s working at the front desk, and she looks up from her computer and smiles, greeting us. I’ve no idea if she’s the same one who helped me yesterday as their uniforms and wigs are designed to make them as similar as possible; they say it’s to give trainers a familiar face no matter where they are.

“Hi,” I start, “we’re looking to sign up for the circuit?” Nick waves cheerfully.

“Ah, of course, give me a moment.” Nurse Joy turns and opens a filing cabinet behind her, pulling out two plastic folders filled with paper.

“That should be you two sorted, we have a room down the hall, third door on the left, with a table and pens if you want to sign right now. If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask. Don’t forget to pick up your Pokedex afterwards!” Nurse Joy immediately returns to typing. They’re probably trying to get as much clerical work done as possible before the circuit begins again.

The room we were directed to is set up like it’s used for meetings most of the time, a large table being the main piece.

I settle into one of the chairs as well as I can, it's a bit shitty but it’ll do. Oscar gleefully pushes the pot of pens off the side of the table but I manage to catch them before it spills. Barely. I make pointed eye contact and put them down far away from him. He haughtily turns away from me and sulks a foot away on the desk.

Nick sets up across from me and hefts Yamper up, placing him on the seat next to him. He sets his paws up on the desk but can’t quite jump up on it to get to Oscar.

I muffle a laugh at the sight, before turning my attention to the file and flipping it open to the first page to start reading, a ballpoint pen poised to write.

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“Why are there so many pages?!”

Nick chuckles as he glances up from his work. He’s filled in quite a bit more than me, but it’s just so boring I can’t focus at all.

We’ve been here for so long Yamper’s lost his energy, and now he’s just resting his muzzle on the table, eyes tracking Oscar’s tail as he flicks it across the table, sometimes close to his nose in his desperation for a reaction so something happens.

“C’mon! You’re getting there!” I have no idea how Nick manages to sound upbeat when he didn’t even look up from reading.

I just groan in response and bury my face in my arms. It’s all just mind-numbingly dry legal language about how I understand all of the risks and rules while also asking me to detail everything about my life up until this moment.

I feel like I’ve signed my name on every page and checked a million boxes.

Nick throws a pen at me, and it both hits my head and gets caught in my hair.

I grumble but untangle it and start reading the next page, ticking the relevant boxes. I’d probably be able to focus better if any of this was new information to me, but all the danger has long been hammered home by Dad and I’ve always kept track of the rules to keep up with different trainers. Sure, the finer details are new but it’s not enough to grab me.

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I sign stating I understand all the terms and agree to the conditions and turn the page only to see the other side of the plastic cover.

I’m finally finished. Once Nick was done, the stress of making him wait for me to finish outweighed my boredom and forced me to be more efficient. He didn’t seem bothered as he just played with Yamper for a bit, but while I can’t be sure I have a sneaking suspicion he noticed near the end and slowed down to make me feel less frantic.

I tap Oscar’s nose in an attempt to wake him from his catnap. His nose twitches but he is otherwise undisturbed. Nothing else for it, I suppose.

I pivot and scoop him up into my arms, causing him to mrrp in surprise but he cuddles pretty quickly.

Yamper is immediately distracted from whatever game he and Nick were playing to watch Oscar curiously.

“You done?” Nick starts picking up the pens that are strewn across the table, I’d asked him to throw one at me whenever it looked like I was spacing out. It did help me somewhat, as the threat of a pen smacking you in the face sharpens the mind.

“Yep. Sorry for the wait…”

“It’s all good.” He grins and jests, “I think I have better aim now, too.”

I huff out a laugh.

Once all the pens are back in their pots, I grab the plastic folder while Oscar drapes himself over one shoulder; he’s awake, but he likes to be held sometimes.

Nurse Joy takes our folders and puts all the paper into a machine that scans and uploads all the information for our trainer IDs, and while it scans every sheet she takes our photos and inputs everything into the computer at lightning speed.

She must have done this countless times, and it shows. A machine spits out the cards, which have a holographic image of a pokeball and the League’s symbol on the back.

My photo is… alright for an ID photo. I could look worse in it, I guess, though my hair’s a bit of a mess from all the pens I pulled out of it.

“That’s you two just about set, I’ll be back in a jiffy with your Pokedexes.” Your Pokedex is one of the only items you’ll be fined for losing or breaking; they’re expensive as hell for non-trainers so I get why they aren’t just stored behind the front desk. Nurse Joy quickly returns from the back and sets a pair of Pokedexes on the counter.

“Alright, here you go!” she cheerily tells us as she slides the device over. “That’s you two all official, good luck on your journeys!”

After saying our thanks, we leave the Centre. As soon as we make it out the doors, an energy bubbles up inside of me that makes it hard to stand still. A grin breaks across my face and I hug Oscar tightly, pressing my face into his fur, his tail wrapping around my arm as he purrs.

I’m actually a trainer. No backing out now, it’s sink or swim for me. I’m not watching everyone else from the shore wishing I could dip my toes in anymore. I feel exhilarated with the possibilities before me.

I wait as Nick finishes his own moment kneeling on the floor with Yamper, his eyes meeting mine. “How ‘bout that battle, Nick?” A smirk breaks out onto my face.

“You’re on, Frankie.”

Conveniently, there’s a small battleground with the markers painted on the grass right outside the Centre. We take our places and stand across from each other, close enough that we can still talk at a normal volume.

It’s quiet for a moment, neither of us knowing how to actually start a battle and ending up standing and staring at each other for a moment.

Nick hesitates before asking, “We should scan them with our Pokedexes first, right?”

“Oh yeah- pfft.” Nick chuckles too, which breaks our awkward stalemate. How did we both forget to do that?

Oscar sits in front of me, neatly tucking his tail over his paws as I hold up the Pokedex to scan him.

Litten, the fire cat pokemon. It spends even the smallest amount of downtime grooming its fur with its tongue. Loose fur gathers in its stomach, setting that fur alight. It spews fiery attacks which change based on how it coughs. Trying to pet a Litten before it trusts you will result in a nasty scratch from its sharp claws. Be careful.

Ability: Blaze

Possible Additional Ability: Intimidate (tap for more info.)

Moves:

Power Trip, Scratch, Growl, Ember, Lick, Roar, Fury Swipes

I’m not sure what Power Trip does but I’m more surprised by Fury Swipes… maybe it’s the attack which allowed Oscar to cut through the vines? I’ve seen him use some version of the rest of them before, hell, I asked him to use Ember against Floette.

I tense my leg to stop my foot from tapping. It’s hard not to be nervous even just standing across from Nick since it all feels more real now. Not knowing how far Oscar will go and this being our first battle for sport is a horrible combination. I roll my shoulders and set them back, straightening my posture. A facade of confidence goes a long way to making it real.

Nick looks up from his Pokedex, a glimmer in his eyes as he pulls something out his pocket and holds it up for me to see. It’s a coin. “When this hits the ground, the battle begins?” A smile’s tugging at his lips.

I just nod. Nick’s probably too caught up in his unadulterated glee to question why I’m weird. Or he doesn’t care. Either way works, I don’t want to talk about it.

Oscar prowls in front of me, impatience rolling off of him in waves. He wants to fight, and he wants to fight now.

Nick flips the coin off his thumb. It glints in the sunlight, twisting as it falls.

Yamper tracks Oscar’s movement, his entire body vibrating with desperation to begin. But he holds back.

The coin hits the ground.

“Get in there and Nuzzle!” Nick commands, his grin out in full force.

Yamper bursts forward, sparks of electricity arcing off his legs with each step, flashes of energy building up at his muzzle as he charges the attack. Oscar pushes off, racing towards a head-on collision, and I flinch involuntarily. Arceus, this is fast-paced–

Shit I need to say something before they crash. “Uh, Ember?!”

Oscar coughs up a weak fireball that largely misses, barely skimming Yamper’s side and singeing his light fur. Yamper whimpers at the heat but presses on., and for a second, I’m frozen. My worst fear of Oscar hurting someone has just been made a reality, but when I automatically look to Nick, expecting distress or anger, I find none. He just continues watching the battle with steadfast focus. Right, this is a battle; they’re supposed to hurt each other-

“Yamper!” At the bark, my attention snaps back to our pokemon.

Yamper collides into Oscar, the electricity shocking him causing his fur to smoke and stand on end. Oscar raises a paw and his claws extend, and he swiftly rakes them across Yamper’s nose. Blood beads on the cuts and begins dripping down his snout.

“Oscar-!” I shout, horrified.

He turns his head just enough to look at me questioningly, but Nick immediately takes our distraction as an opportunity.

“Tackle, pin him down!”

Yamper lowers till his front half is skimming the ground, his tail wagging madly, and Oscar turns his head back to stare at him with distaste.

Nick groans. “No! Yamper don’t play bow-” Yamper bounces up and rams his head into Oscar, catching him off guard and pinning him to the floor. “-there ya go, get ‘em boy! Bite!

Oscar struggles under Yamper, hissing viciously and batting at his chest in an attempt to push him off, but he’s too stocky. Darkness wreaths Yamper’s teeth, dripping onto Oscar and pooling in his fur as he widens his jaws aiming for the neck-

An idea strikes me. “Oscar, Roar!”

He... does? It works in any case. A fierce scratchy yowl makes Yamper jump in fright, yellow sparks dancing across his fur. Oscar scrambles out from under him moments before Yamper hits the ground and decides to take the initiative, rearing up on his hind legs, his claws shining and elongating, before lurching forward, slicing through Yamper’s fur with glee. I grimace at the twin trails of blood following his claws.

Choking on the viscous darkness coating his mouth, Yamper whimpers. Nick shouts, “Hold fast, bud! Nuzzle again!”

The electricity builds up around his nose faster this time and he charges forward, but he’s slower than Oscar. I hesitate, do I tell him to run away? Jump over him? Or should he attack-

Too late. Oscar tries to batter him away by smacking his nose, but crackling energy shoots through his paw and courses through his body, making him convulse. Yamper lowers his head again to Tackle. He can’t take another one of those in this state, and I can’t just be idle with indecision.

“Jump over him!” I snap.

Oscar pushes through, his muscles contracting before he leaps, clearing Yamper by a wide margin. Yamper trundles ahead but stops short when he doesn’t hit anything, glancing left and right in bafflement.

Oscar’s panting when he turns to face me. He sets his shoulders back and stands proudly, an aura of smugness emanating from him. He’s battered and bruised but he looks… so fucking happy, as if he’s in his element and is loving every second of it. Yamper is bloodied and his fur’s burnt, but Nick doesn’t look worried so much as determined. Maybe I should stop fucking panicking.

“Ember.” The command comes naturally.

Oscar flashes his teeth at me and hacks up a fireball, which sails towards Yamper who’s begun to sniff the grass, searching for clues about Oscar's disappearance.

“Roll over!” Nick barks.

Yamper tenses and drops, rolling left. Fire splashes where he was standing, though it sputters out before the flames can spread. Yamper twists around on his back, finally spotting Oscar while upside down. He wriggles on the grass but manages to get up, sneezing to the side and blinking at Oscar, who just scowls.

“Fury Swipes, wait for your chance!” I bite back a smile.

Glowing claws unsheath, slicing through the grass as he circles Yamper, his gait measured and slow. It looks familiar… Yamper turns with Oscar, keeping him in his sights.

I hold back a laugh when I realise it; he’s imitating the Heel from those matches we watched a couple days ago. That dramatic little bastard is trying to raise the tension just for the fun of it.

Yamper jerks forward, but a gesture from Nick. “Hold.”

Oscar’s fur bristles but his pace does not falter. Yamper’s tail is a blur with how much it’s wagging, the sparks building on his tail reaching a frenzy. He glances at Nick once, then twice pleading to be given the go ahead

“Litten…” Oscar drawls.

Whatever he said is apparently the last straw and Yamper bursts into action. Nick groans but lets it happen, electricity flaring on Yamper’s fur, zipping from the end of his tail to gather on his nose. Oscar waits until the last second to side-step Yamper like a trained matador and twists to drag his claws down the side of Yamper’s body.

Pinning his ears back, Yamper whines but shakes it off, turning once again. Weaving behind him, Oscar pesters him and swipes at his flank, making Yamper flinch before the glow on his claws dies down and shrinks. Smugly, Oscar saunters in front of him, something undoubtedly mocking on the tip of his tongue.

“Now!”

Yamper bowls him over, pinning him to the ground again. Damn it! That was Tackle again.

“Bite!”

Darkness spills through Yamper’s muzzle and he dives down-

“Roa-!”

Jaws clamp down over Oscar's neck before I can get the command out. Oscar pushes up at Yamper, kicking his stomach with all his might, but he can’t find purchase with his paws and goes limp.

Nick and I make eye contact. I sigh. “You got us, we forfeit.”

I’d rather we surrender gracefully than desperately fight tooth and nail for the same result. It’s still… not humiliating just, well, disappointing to fall short of your own hopes.

Yamper lets go and backs away, though not before licking Oscar on the nose affectionately. Oscar lies there, resigned to his fate.

Yamper bounces back over to Nick and rolls over on his back, shaking with excitement. Nick rubs his tummy and ignores the jolt of static as he says, “Well done, boy! Oh you listened so well, yes you did! Who’s a good boy? You are!” His tone of voice is an odd combination of a growling baby talk and absolute elation.

Oscar slowly gets up to his feet and sulks, his ears drooping and paws dragging as he slinks up to me. I crouch down and hold my hand out, waiting for him. He nuzzles the palm of my hand and looks up at me, the disappointment in his eyes making me smile sadly.

I scoop him up and start picking the dried black sludge from Bite out of his fur. It has a strange consistency and is weirdly cool compared to the warmth of Oscar’s fur. Maybe I should stop touching it… I’ll be fine. Probably.

“Litten…” Oscar huffs, the high energy of the battle entirely dissipated with our loss.

“Hey. Don’t be like that, dude. Yeah, it stings. We lost-“ and I think it was mostly my fault “-but we had a lot of fun, right?”

“Ten...” he affirms.

“Then all we need to do is train. When we get better we can have fun and win.”

Tenacity flashes through his yellow eyes and I know I have him. He’s still in a huff but he’s also looking forward to the next match instead of brooding over this one. It’s not like I can say anything, I’m mad at myself because I know we could have had that. But… already I’m thinking about how I could've thought faster, what I could’ve done differently, so despite the loss I’m glad it happened. If anything, I’m more resolved to win next time because there will be a next time.

It still sucks.

Nick walks towards the centre of the battlefield as I drape Oscar around my neck. We shake hands and Nick’s beaming smile cuts through the worst of my anger at myself.

“That was awesome, Frankie. He’s a tough little guy, you nearly had us a few moments there.”

I snort. “You’re the one who won, don’t be modest.”

“Ah, that was just a bit of luck and a bit of strategy, nothing special.” At my look, Nick holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m being serious! It could’ve gone either way- ok fine. We won, we're ecstatic about it, you happy now?”

“Extremely.” If Nick was a dick about winning then this would probably be harder.

I check how Oscar seems to be taking the loss to Yamper but instead of a scowling growling mess I find him regarding Yamper with an iota of respect. Before I can tease Oscar about that, Nick’s phone rings.

He flinches at the sound and looks at me apologetically. “This is important, hang on.”

I nod and occupy myself by petting Yamper and Oscar with one hand each. Yamper’s quite happy about this but Oscar watches jealously.

It’s hard to ignore that Nick looks extremely tense, his shoulders hunched and movement stiff, but it morphs into an increasing level of irritability as the call goes on until he snaps out a ‘right, bye.’.

Nick taps the screen viciously to hang up the call and scowls at his phone. I don’t think I’ve seen him look anything but charmingly awkward or genuinely friendly so I feel a bit out of place.

“Sorry Frankie, but we’ve gotta go. My Dad’s just called me back to the hotel.” He bites the words out with a clenched jaw.

The one-eighty in mood throws me off but I manage to say, “Ah, that sucks. I’ll message you later then?”

For a second a small but genuine smile crosses his face. “Sounds good. Yamper!” He looks up from under my hand. “We gotta go, bud. You want to go to the Centre?”

Yamper shakes his head and whines sadly at us but barks goodbye to Oscar and me then trots off after Nick.

“That was… weird.”

“Ten.” Oscar’s paws hang off my shoulder, kneading the air, and he turns to me curiously.

I shrug. “It’s clearly private, let’s not dig into it. C’mon, we’ve gotta get that gunk outta your fur.”