“What? No,” Skrili denied. “That’s not right. He’s a Legend Trainer. He has to have powers.”

But Deon’s confidence only boosted when Skip was slow to respond. Their teacher stood in place, a clever smile still spread across his face.

Then, he raised his shoulders into a guilty shrug.

“Very good, Deon. You got me,” he admitted. “I don’t have consciousness powers.”

Deon could practically see Skrili’s mind spinning to grasp the reality as her eyebrows furrowed.

“But—as a Trainer, you had to be a pro first,” she stressed. “Only consciousnesses can be in the League.”

“Everything you just said is totally true,” Skip validated. “And I was a pro. I was in the League.”

“Then…how?”

“I don’t get that part, either,” confessed Deon, “but when we talked the other day about my power up, you said something weird about how it’s better not to have powers. That got me thinking: all this time, we thought you were avoiding using your powers. But it’s just like you to hide the truth in plain sight.”

“That is a go-to of mine,” confirmed Skip.

“But it still doesn’t make sense,” added Deon, pointing down at him from up on his floating plank. “I wanna know what’s up with all that. Plus, a deal’s a deal: we figured it out, so now you have to tell us about yourself.”

Skip laughed and shook his head. “Man…I was really hoping you wouldn’t get it…” he said lightheartedly.

Yet there was a shift—an uncomfortable weight in his expression.

“…But don’t we still have a fight to finish?” he added.

Skrili’s eyes widened, and she immediately rushed a dodge to the side.

But even someone speedy as her was too slow: Skip flashed forward and seized her arms, shoving with all his strength. Skrili’s thin shoes skidded against the grass, sending dirt and dust into the air as she slid towards defeat.

“Deon!” she shouted.

He was already on it. Deon closed his eyes once more, and mentally prepared the rest of their most complex technique yet: their Team Special. He’d split all required imagining into three phases, and memorized each of their contents. Any inaccuracies, and its debut would be a dud.

Phase One was ready within seconds.

Deon shot his eyes open and focused on the battleground below.

“Hurry!” cried Skrili. “Start the—AH!!”

She yelped as her sliding feet reached a padded black platform on the ground. It bounced her straight into the air, ripping her free of Skip’s grasp. He had no choice but to watch now.

And what he watched, he couldn’t quite explain.

“Prepare yourself, Skip!!” Deon taunted. “This is our strongest move: THE SKRILI AND DEON ULTIMATE TEAM ATTA—”

“We nEvEr AgReEd On ThAt StUpId nAaAaAaAaAame!!!” Skrili’s voiced vibrated in the air.

“Huh…” uttered Skip plainly, blinking in sheer bafflement.

Above him, Skrili bounced back and forth endlessly in the air. She was between two vertical, orange pads, which ricocheted her like a bouncing ball into each other.

“Why…did we…have to…pick this one…?” Skrili grumbled.

Deon’s face flushed with remorse. “Um…hang in there, Skrili! You’re doing so great!”

“Lunatic…”

He realized he’d have to make up for it later—she might murder him tonight if this didn’t pay off.

But it would work. They’d mastered it together.

“Alright!” Skrili announced a bit pleadingly.

Phase One was complete.

Deon focused on one of the two floating pads, and mentally transformed it into one of his giant pillows. The squishy substance caught Skrili in place and dropped her steadily. She landed neatly on the ground.

Skrili threw a couple quick jabs—they were several times faster than she was punching before. Then, she gave Deon a subtle nod.

“Ah, very clever,” Skip noted. “I was avoiding her Power Rebound, so you have a failsafe to give her one on your own.”

Deon smirked. He knew Skip would pick up on it instantly. While Skrili usually relied on taking damage throughout a fight in order to power up, this new strategy would put her strength in their control. It took days to convince her of the idea, but when all their other Team Attack drafts failed miserably, they gave it a shot.

Thanks to Skrili’s tweaks, it came to life with trial and error: the texture of these pads had to be soft enough not to hurt her, but hard enough to stimulate her pain receptors subtly with each bounce. Deon found the right balance by starting with pillows, and intensifying it from there. So the longer she bounced between them, the higher it steadily, and safely, charged her Rebound.

“I have good ideas sometimes,” Deon laughed bigheadedly.

“Sometimes,” emphasized Skrili with a half-smile.

But there was still an expectant glint in Skip’s eyes. “Alright, but where’s the rest of the show? I know that’s not all you came up with for your Team Special—I taught you better.”

“There’s no fooling you,” Deon laughed.

It was time for Phase Two.

Deon removed the pads from existence and then, one-by-one, placed several more all along the outside of the yard just before the agreed boundary line.

While the process unfolded, Skrili sprung back into action—now with much more tenacity. Skip immediately fell to the defense, struggling to hold his ground against Skrili’s enhanced state.

But after a shift in his weight, Skip pushed forward and met her with nearly equal force. Deon wished he could rush his setup process—there was still a chance Skip could eliminate Skrili before it was all ready. But he remained steadfast: precision was the key right now.

Trust your teammate, Deon remembered. She can hold him off.

Within seconds, the final pad appeared. Deon lined them all up with watchful eyes, adjusting their heights and angles down to the most miniscule detail. Then at last, Phase Two was in place.

Hurriedly, Deon placed a tiny Twitchy a few paces behind Skip, within Skrili’s line of vision. He commanded it to sneak her a thumbs-up before fading away.

Skrili wasted no time.

She pounced backwards to escape from Skip, landing near one of the floating orange pads. Using that same momentum, Skrili threw herself into the air straight at the pad.

Her feet bounced against it, and with a low, resonant spring, she whizzed through the air. In a fraction of a second, she bounced against another one at the opposite end of the yard, and then continued to ricochet through the air in all varying directions.

“Yes!” Deon couldn’t help but exclaim as he watched his vision come to life. His positioning for the pads was perfect, allowing Skrili to aim and execute the secret pattern they agreed on. He could tell her Power Rebound provided even sharper reflexes—her movements were swift and graceful.

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Skip was extra attentive now, though not necessarily intimidated, as the blur of Skrili zoomed past him repeatedly. Every few bounces—after a different amount each time—he had to duck or sidestep while Skrili aimed a foot or fist right at him. But despite the unpredictability and increased speed, he was still able to avoid impact.

“Cool,” Skip complimented after ducking again. “Nice combination of both of your powers. But wait—there’s more! Or…I hope so, right?”

Again, Skip read right through it. Skrili stressed beforehand that this part of the attack wouldn’t be enough to challenge him, and now Deon saw she was right.

Onto Phase Three.

In a way, he’d been hoping to need the full extent of this attack. He wanted to win. He longed to earn the right to fight in Conscious Competitions with Skrili, and walk away knowing they truly could take on their worst fears.

But right in this moment, he wanted to prove everything Skip had taught them, and put it to action. He wanted to show off and celebrate the team he and Skrili were able to become—after all the odd symbolic adventures and endless drills.

To put it simply: he wanted to make Skip, their weird and wise teacher, proud.

“Let’s do this,” announced Deon. “Get ready, Skip. Here’s our real final move. GO!”

Deon eyed Skrili’s one-girl swarm the best he could, relying on his memorization of her pattern. He had to match her speed, and all they needed was to push Skip out of bounds.

Simplicity was key. He knew his weapon of choice.

Once Skrili completed a rotation of her bouncing pattern, Deon imagined a leather ball opposite to her path. Nodding to feel the right timing, he launched it into motion. It bounced against the pads in a pattern mirroring Skrili’s movements, slightly behind her to avoid a collision.

Nailed it, Deon observed.

Then, he added another, and shot it into its own unique pattern.

At last, Skip didn’t seem so casual anymore. Realizing the increased threat, he crouched low, keeping a keen eye to try and study the patterns.

You’ll figure it out in no time, Deon thought. But thanks to you, Skip, we know a way around that.

Skip pivoted constantly, attempting to keep up. He knew another kick from Skrili was coming.

But he was wrong.

For one brief moment, Skrili and one of the leather balls were about to cross paths off to the side, away from Skip. That was the true opening: Skrili snatched the leather ball in midair, spun, and redirected it straight at Skip.

This time, they got him.

The attack nailed him in the side, launching him backwards. Skip thumped against the grass but hastily climbed to his feet. Realizing their true offensive approach now, he stood instead of crouching—clearly, they could still hit him even if he stayed low.

Skrili touched down on the ground just once, and immediately hopped back against the nearest pad, bursting back into rapid motion. Meanwhile, Deon mentally retrieved the leather ball attack, aimed, and restarted its pattern against the pads.

“There it is,” Skip grunted. “Now we’re talking.”

The technique continued: after only a moment, Skrili caught the other leather ball—reaching to match its different pattern—and with a flip, used its momentum to chuck it at Skip. With everything going on now, even he couldn’t know when to expect a strike. He jumped, but it belted his shoulder and spun him around.

With Skip on his heels, Deon knew he needed to act now. He let out a sigh of preparation.

It was working. The ‘Skrili and Deon Ultimate Team Attack’ was working.

Okay she’s right…that name sucks, Deon admitted to himself.

He squatted and readied himself.

“Communication…openness…understanding, and…a lot of practice,” Deon listed. “That’s what it means to be a team.”

“Also the key to a successful marriage,” Skip chimed in after recovering from another hit.

“Here’s proof that we’re ready!” declared Deon.

“For being a team—not marriage,” Skrili clarified as she whooshed by.

Deon hopped up and down repeatedly against his floating plank. Sucking in air one more time, he jumped in: he imagined away the plank holding him up, and fell into the yard. Deon successfully slipped between the storming Skrili and the two leather balls and touched down into the grass.

His eyes glistened with adrenaline.

He ran into action, circling Skip. Deon knew his opponent wouldn’t be able to take the offense now—not when Skrili could redirect another leather ball at any time. They had him.

After counting to seven, Deon reached out his arms. In that exact instant, a leather ball came spinning his way: Skrili, still hopping around like lightning, sent one right at him. With its dangerous velocity, he hadn’t the time to aim his catch. But he didn’t need aim: the ball flew straight into his arms.

Smiling, Deon spun and released it straight at Skip. The precise collision forced him back countless steps, but he managed to catch it.

Deon de-imagined that leather ball before Skip could use it. They wouldn’t need it anymore, now. All they had to do was follow through.

He cut into another run, this time zigzagging closer to Skip. Deon jumped up and faked a catch, only to land and skirt to the side.

This time, the attack came from Skrili again: the second leather ball bounced against a pad, met Skrili’s arms as she flew by, and went whirling at Skip.

Another perfect hit. Skip fell back, sliding to a stop just within the yard before the tree line, while Deon imagined away the ball. Skip climbed back up frantically. His eyes shifted between Deon and Skrili for a moment, until he realized the leather balls were gone now.

Then, his eyes locked onto Skrili, guarding for her final attack.

With a shout of pure energy, Deon charged at Skip.

Skrili bounced against the pad opposite to them, but this time, redirected herself to the ground. Dirt and grass flew everywhere as she ran straight at Skip, her Power Rebound strength and momentum from the pads shooting her forward.

They were about to reach Skip at the same time—he’d have to guess their approach, just as before. In a last-second decision, Skip turned to block Skrili again.

This time, he guessed right. Deon stopped in his tracks.

But that was exactly what they were hoping for.

Once Skip turned, Skrili dropped into a slide. She stopped just before him, pushed up with her hands, and kicked Skip from below. He blocked it, but the impact slightly lifted him off his feet—subtle enough to seem insignificant.

Subtle enough for their true intentions.

Deon pounced forward in that instant, aiming a kick with all of his mind and might.

“Skrili-Style Finishing Kick!” he proclaimed.

In his rush, Deon’s form was sloppier this time. His foot very lightly pressed Skip. But that was all they needed: losing balance, Skip stumbled back, landing in a sitting position just out of bounds.

He remained there quietly for a moment. Eventually, shaking off the initial shock, a smile formed.

“Outstanding,” Skip uttered.

Deon bolted to Skrili, arms wide, and swooped her off her feet.

“YES!!!!” he bellowed, spinning her around.

Skrili fought to remain expressionless, but patiently waited out his rambunctious embrace. When he lowered her, Skrili turned away a bit with her arms crossed.

“See? I knew we’d win this time,” she said plainly. “You were great.”

“Both of you were, but I agree,” said Skip, who for some reason, still remained seated. “Now you pass—officially, this time. Deon, with my blessing, consider yourself a certified pro. Can’t wait to see you two together in Conscious Competitions.”

“Skip…Thank you, really—” Deon started humbly.

“…If you guys can complete one more task,” added Skip.

Deon’s eyes widened like a hawk.

“Can you grab one of your TeamTracks and heal me? I think I pulled a butt muscle just now.”

“…Of all the hits you took…” Skrili mumbled.

Deon shook his head and laughed. “Sure thing, Skip.”

~

After a few minutes spent with Deon hovering his TeamTrack around Skip’s rear end, the group reconvened in Skip’s cabin. Newly recovered, and promising he’d saved the best for last, he scurried straight into his kitchen for one last celebratory feast.

The usual sounds—clangs, crashes, and Skip’s incessant self-bragging as he cooked—resounded from the cabin while Deon and Skrili sat on his living room couch.

Deon realized he’d miss these familiar sounds. Constantly focusing so hard on their training and growth, he’d taken for granted all the cozy tea, warm showers, and home-cooked meals. A light pressure of sadness filled his chest—to his own surprise, the sheer jubilation of becoming a certified fighter hadn’t fully sunken in yet.

Anticipation would return soon enough, he knew, but for now he and Skrili could finally take a full breather. There was nothing to work on for the time being, nor a fight to overcome. With the relief from this victory, even their underlying fears—that vision—could hide away for a moment.

But still, Deon couldn’t help but wonder.

“So what’s next?” he asked Skrili openly.

For the first time since they’d reached Crooked Plateau to get him registered, they could do anything: fight in whatever Conscious Competition, wherever in the Multiverse, and whenever.

“The Conscious Conference in Fiction Country starts today, but we’ll just get there a day late,” Skrili answered casually.

“The—the what?”

“Our next stop, the Conscious Conference.”

“Wait a second—you already went ahead and decided our plans without me?!” exclaimed Deon.

Skrili looked up in brief thought. “Oh. I may have forgotten to mention it,” she realized nonchalantly. “There’s an annual convention for consciousness pros in each Country. Kotono messaged me and said we should meet up to hang out at the Fiction Country one tomorrow.”

Deon smirked. “Oh, I get it now. It’s your new buddies—the Kotono and Hiroko. No way you’re passing that up.”

Skrili blushed. “W—well, Pang and Phillip will probably be there, too…we should catch up with them…”

“Hey, I was already in,” Deon assured with a laugh. “Let’s do it.”

While it wasn’t the fast-paced fighting marathon he was expecting to dive into, Deon welcomed this laidback new adventure. He looked at Skrili while she whipped out her Teamtrack and began confirming details with Kotono, unaware of the giddiness in her own eyes giving away her excitement. A softness fell into Deon’s gaze.

As long as they were doing it together, he didn’t care what came next.

~

Skip wasn’t exaggerating when he called it a feast: complete with savory rice bowls, flatbread sandwiches, salad, and two different smoothie options, this was easily the most food Deon had ever eaten this early in the afternoon.

Stuffed and merry, they all stepped outside Skip’s cabin for what Deon and Skrili realized would be the last time.

There was only one thing left to do. Deon had figured out Skip’s powers—or lack thereof—so it was time for Skip to keep up his end of the deal.

It was time to reveal his secrets.

They all stood silently, Skip hovering close to the open door.

“So…” started Deon uncomfortably.

“So yeah, great month of training! Congrats on passing! Enjoy the Conscious Competitions!” Skip let out rapidly. He whipped around and started heading back inside.

“NOPE—HOLD UP,” Deon demanded, and Skrili seized the Trainer’s collar.

Skip sighed. “Alright.” He paused for a moment, seemingly retreating into his thoughts as he averted his eyes. “Why don’t we…head over to the garden? Let’s talk about it there.”