Novels2Search

NINETY-TWO

The walk from the front doors of the gym to the reception desk was longer than it had previously been. He could tell, even from outside. Cashe couldn’t explain it, the distance stretched in front of him like an endless country road, the young man behind the reception desk small and insignificant.

The faint tang of earth hung in the air as he stood at the threshold of the gym, the warm breeze of the morning battling the cool wash of air conditioning as the gym’s doors swung open. He felt a trickle of sweat roll down his back, cold and sharp. The gym was silent, nothing but the faint beating of his heart could be heard in his ears.

Cashe took a step forward, and the world snapped back into place. Noise returned, he could hear the echoing cheer of a small crowd, already formed for the morning matches. His vision sharpened and the distance to the reception was suddenly short, only a few steps away, a surge of adrenaline coursed through him as he stepped up to greet the young man behind the desk.

“Hey,” Cashe said, “I’ve got a match coming up in a couple of hours. I’m-”

“Apollo Cashe, I know,” the young man behind the reception desk looked up with an excited grin. He was in his mid teens, maybe sixteen, with the characteristic dark hair and skin of a native to the Alolan islands, “The whole gym has been talking about you and your friends for the last couple of days. Emilia Oak. Lindon Stroute,” the young man continued, reaching under the reception desk for an array of paperwork. He placed it in front of Cashe. He gave him a conspiratorial look, whispering, “Hau thinks Kiana will beat you no problem, but almost half of the trainers are making bets that you will win.” He winked.

“Oh, right,” Cashe took the forms and glanced over them. They appeared to be standard release forms, the same that he signed before entering the True Rookie Tournament. He signed them and handed them back to the receptionist.

“Thank you.” He checked them over and nodded, tapping a button on his desk, “Someone will be down in a minute to escort you to the waiting room.”

Cashe stepped away from the desk and a moment later, a woman around his age showed up. She was wearing the colors of the gym, dark orange with splashes of yellow. Like the receptionist, she had the dark hair and skin of an islander.

“Mr Cashe?” She gave him a brilliant smile, not waiting for his response and gesturing back down the hallway from where she approached, “I’m Moni. Please come with me.”

Cashe followed her down the hall and the receptionist called out after him, “Good luck,” the young man said, “Kiana is tough, but you can give her a good fight!”

Cashe let out an exasperated half chuckle, “It sounds like he has already decided how the match is going to go.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Moni said with a wave and a pleasant laugh, “He’s just a kid. There are plenty of people who have seen you battle and think you have a shot. Several of the younger trainers are looking forward to seeing Blood Money in person.”

“So I’m told,” Cashe grumbled as Moni led them out of the hallway and up a flight of stairs.

“You don’t sound heartened by that.”

“I never thought I would miss the weight of expectation,” Cashe said. They topped the stairs and entered another hallway, “And I was right. I don’t miss it.”

Moni laughed and gave him a teasing smile and wiggled her eyebrows, “Then if it helps you any, I don’t think you can win against Kiana, but I’m cheering for you all the same.”

Cashe laughed and Moni stopped in front of a door, opening it, “Here we are, Mr Cashe,” she handed him a small card. It had an odd pattern on it with Moni’s name written on the back, “If you need anything in the next couple of hours, just scan that with your pokedex like you would an unfamiliar pokemon. It will give me a ring and I’ll be right over.”

“Neat, thanks.” Cashe said. He slipped the card in his pocket.

“Feel free to use that any time,” Moni gave him one last sparkling smile and ushered him through the door. She winked at him, “I love winners.”

The waiting room was not the opulent lounge like that of the True Rookie Tournament’s waiting rooms, but it was comfortable. Long, leather couches lined the walls to both sides, with a low table lying in front of each. A small snack bar sat in a corner beside a fridge, where a trainer was getting refreshments. Opposite the food was a clearly labeled pair of washrooms for men and women, though no women appeared to be in the room. At the far side of the room, a single door provided an exit to the gym stages. On the wall, next to the door Cashe just entered through, a large TV played a dozen or so feeds of ongoing gym battles. Several trainers were waiting in the room, most having the unmistakable appearance of nervousness as they watched the screen. Small movements and sharp glances were all he got in greeting as he entered, with most not even looking over from where they sat.

“Feel free to use that any time, I love winners.” The voice was artificially high and effeminate. Cashe turned to find himself staring at the largest man he had ever seen. He was lounging in the corner of the room, spread across the couch and taking up a ton of space, not that he had any choice. The man was seated, but nearly as tall as Cashe, even so, and almost as wide. He wasn’t fat, but solid, with immense slabs of muscle stretching his clothes tight. Tattoos ran the length of his body, dark even against his dark skin. He looked like a Hariyama in human form. He was another islander, with wide features on his huge face to match the rest of him, and laughed at Cashe’s expression, a smile splitting his enormous head.

“Relax,” he boomed, his actual speaking voice deep and sonorous, “We are all friends here, isn’t that right, Lyle?”

A nervous man on the other side of the room glanced up at the large man, “Quiet Earl. You know how I get.” The nervous man paled and held his stomach, as if speaking alone had set him off. He looked at the washroom door for a moment before settling back down.

“Ignore us,” Earl laughed again. He patted the cushion next to him for Cashe to sit, “We’re just jealous that Miss Hale took a liking to you.”

“Miss Hale?” Cashe sat down beside the enormous man, sinking into the leather couch. Earl was so heavy that Cashe had to be careful not to accidentally slide into him.

“The woman who brought you here. She didn’t introduce herself?” Earl gave him a confused look.

“Oh, Moni,” Cashe.

“Moni he says,” Earl groaned and rubbed a huge hand over his face. It was so big that Cashe was pretty sure he could palm a bowling ball with it, “Can you believe this Lyle?”

Lyle groaned at him. Several of the other trainers looked over at them, upset at the noise, but Earl ignored them.

“So who are you, some sort of hotshot from,” Earl squinted at Cashe, “Unova, maybe?”

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“A lot farther away than that,” Cashe said.

“Like Paldea?” Earl said, “You don’t sound Paldean.”

“Far enough away that you’ve never heard of the region I’m from.”

Earl grinned, “I’m big but I’m not stupid. Try me.”

“Canada.”

Earl frowned and laughed again, his booming voice ringing through the small waiting area, “You got me. Never heard of any Canada.” Earl clapped his hands together, an enormous crack of noise coming from his hands, “So. Who are you, then? What did you do to get “Moni” to take an interest?”

“I’m Apollo Cashe.” Cashe shifted uncomfortably.

“Never heard of you.” Earl declared, peering down at him, “Are you some sort of Gym Circuit trainer in Canada?”

“Third Circuit, This is my first gym.” Cashe said with a frown, “Does it matter?”

“Of course it matters!” Earl cried out. He shook his head, “They must do things differently over there in Canada. You really don’t know?”

Cashe sighed, “Listen, Earl-”

“Since you’re a Third Circuit rookie, you can call me Mr Dunn,” Earl said, slapping his chest with authority, “Since I’m about to teach you how things work.”

“Your name is Earl Dunn?” Cashe said, peering at the enormous man, covered in tattoos, “You don’t look like an Earl Dunn.”

“Don’t I know it!” Earl laughed again, “I should be a teacher, like my father. But I am a pokemon trainer. Do you know why?”

“Because people don’t employ one man demolition crews?” Cashe said, with a small smile, “No, wait, is it because trainers constantly travel and no city can afford to feed you for more than a couple of days?”

Earl clapped his hands in easy laughter, “I have been here for a month, for your information!” He boomed. He pointed across the room to a young man with light brown hair, around nineteen or twenty in age, “You, boy, come over here.”

The man looked rapidly around him, searching for someone else that the giant might be talking to.

“Yes, you,” Earl said in an exasperated tone, “Get over here!”

The man stood up from the couch and hurried over, “Can I help you?”

Earl arched his hands in front of his face, looking the young man directly in the eye, “What’s your name?”

“Keith Plimkin?”

“You don’t sound so sure of that,” Earl rolled his eyes, “How about this: Are you a trainer?”

“Yes?” Keith said.

Earl gave Cashe an exasperated look and turned back to Keith, “Why are you a trainer?”

Keith seemed to relax a bit at the continued innocuous questions, this time answering more confidently, “I love pokemon.”

Earl waved his answer away, “Everyone loves pokemon. You can be a breeder or a hobbyist if you just want to be around pokemon. Why be a trainer?”

“I want to be the best,” Keith said, “Why are you asking me all those-”

“Why do you want to be the best?” Earl interrupted, “You want to be famous?”

Keith looked put off by being interrupted but he answered the question, “Sure, who doesn’t?”

“Most people, Keith,” Earl said with a deep chuckle, “Any reason you want to be famous?”

“I don’t know,” Keith said, shifting where he stood, “It has a bunch of benefits, you know? Opportunities that most people don’t get. That kind of thing.”

“Come one Keith, we’re all guys here,” Earl waved a massive hard as he gestured to the room. Keith glanced around, realizing it was true, “Why do you want to be a famous trainer?”

Keith relaxed further and raised an eyebrow at the big man, “You know why.”

Earl grinned, “That I do.” He turned to Cashe, “And that’s why I want to know how a Third Circuit rookie caught Miss Hale’s eye when I have been here a month and she never even told me her first name.” Earl stared at Cashe, not upset or malicious, but with curiosity, “Are you special or something? Were you famous before you started training pokemon? What is it?”

“He’s traveling with an Oak,” the voice was unexpectedly Lyle’s. The man looked queasy and pale as he joined the conversation, but he joined it all the same, “He was kissing her after she won the True Rookie Tournament.”

The entire room turned to face Cashe at the proclamation, nervousness forgotten by the majority and replaced with looks of interest normally reserved for teenagers hearing juicy gossip for the first time.

“Are we really doing this?” Cashe groaned in disgust, “Come on guys, we’re not in high school. Have some self respect.”

“It’s true?” Earl boomed in surprise, “Oh-ho! What’s it like dating an Oak?”

“They all look like models and they are super famous!” One of the trainers exclaimed.

“The one in Kanto is a model! Have you seen her swimsuit photos? Damn.”

“Have you met Champion Elise?”

“I used to dream about her!” Keith said, sitting down on the other side, “I was crushed when she announced she was pregnant.”

“We’re not dating,” Cashe said answering Earl’s question, hoping the excitement would die down, “So-”

“She’s letting you play the field?” A trainer around Cashe’s age shouted in surprise. His words caused an explosion of discussion about how that was ‘unfair’ and how ‘lucky’ he was. Cashe rubbed his hands over his face and sighed.

“Damn,” Earl said, his wide face showing respect for the first time, “Maybe I should call you Mr Cashe instead.”

“Please don’t tell him anything!” Lyle said, his queasiness now forgotten, “He’s Second Circuit! He’s doing just fine. Tell me instead!”

“Can we please drop it?” Cashe said, pinching the bridge of his nose, wracking his brain for a way to make them stop talking. He knew it was likely pointless. He had been in locker rooms before, and he was quickly realizing why there were no women in here, “I have a battle coming up. I just want to stay focused on that.”

“Come on,” Earl complained, “You can’t leave us hanging like that. What ever happened to brotherly love?”

“I don’t have any brothers,” Cashe said, “and if I did-”

“Attention,” A woman’s voice cut through the noise of the room and the trainers quieted instantly, “Trainers Dunn, Plimkin, Carter, and Tori, please report to the staging area in preparation for your battles.”

Cashe’s eyes flicked to the TV screen on the wall beside him. All twelve feeds showed empty arenas. In the commotion, he had almost forgotten that everyone here was waiting for a chance to battle the gym trainers.

Earl grunted and stood up, coming to his full, towering height. He must have been over seven feet tall. Earl looked down at Cashe and gave him a good natured grin, “Talk later?” Not waiting for a response, he headed for the door with three others in tow. Earl had to duck and squeeze to fit through the door, but he made it and soon half the group was gone, leaving the other half alone in silence.

Just as the door they left through closed, the entry door opened and a new face emerged. He was another man in his early twenties and glanced around the silent room. He turned to Cashe, “Why is everyone staring at you?”

“He’s dating an Oak and she’s letting him play the field,” Lyle answered helpfully.

“You’re Blood Money?” The new trainer said, his face changing from intrigued to hesitant.

“I-” Cashe blinked. Besides the discussion with Kasey Sterling, he hadn’t thought about being Blood Money for almost two months. But the identity could help him now. He let his face flatten into an expressionless mask, “Yes. What of it?”

The new trainer shook his head quickly, “Nothing. It’s nice to meet you. Sir.” He nodded and walked to the far end of the room and promptly sat down beside Lyle.

Lyle looked between the new trainer and Cashe, “Blood Money? Is that your persona or-”

“Shut up,” Cashe said, voice imperious, turning to stare down the previously queasy man.

“What the hell?” Lyle said, “Don’t be an ass-”

Lyle was cut off again, but this time by the trainer sitting beside him, “Don’t!” He said in a harsh whisper, “He beat Steven Stone III unconscious! A Stone! And do you know what happened? Stone got banned by the League from half the circuits in the world.”

Lyle’s eyes went wide and he immediately paled, “Really?”

Cashe held back his instinct to cringe and turned to face the TV screen, ignoring everything else. He didn’t like it, but if his less than stellar reputation would get people to leave him alone for once, he would take it.

*****