“Hat!” Hatenna’s high pitched chirp of determination sounded too cute for a battle cry, but that’s exactly what it was. The grass rustled as her Confusion hit her target, the confused cry of a Makuhita echoing out a moment later.

Cashe had no idea how she even saw the pokemon. It probably had something to do with her ability to sense emotions. All he could see was the grass right in front of his face. It was thick and rough, scratching against his arms and legs as he pushed through the untamed area of the route, catching on his clothes and slowing his progress significantly.

Around him, he could hear the telltale sounds of occasional battle from Ivysaur and Primeape as they took care of any pokemon they came across in front or behind the main group. The sounds of battle were muffled by the grass, but it was hard to disguise Primeape’s rage-filled screeches or the whip-like cracks of Ivysaur’s vines.

The grass rustled beside him and Cashe froze in place, but it was only Lindon, his Magneton floating above the grass directly above his head. Lindon had tied a thin string to his pokemon so he could follow it through the field without having to worry about getting lost. It prevented Magneton from using any electric type moves, but so far it wasn’t an issue. .

“Jesus Christ, Lindon, you scared me,” Cashe said with a sigh of relief, “I thought I was going to have to run for it.”

“Sorry,” Lindon said, “How long until we get out of here?”

“I have no idea,” Cashe said, looking down at Lindon. He felt sorry for the kid. He and Emilia were pushing the pace in order to make it through the grass quickly and Lindon was suffering for it. The ground was firm, but uneven, and the thick grass was more cumbersome for Lindon to navigate than it was for either him or Emilia. He was dirty and scraped, with thin cuts all over his arms and legs. His hair and shirt were soaked with sweat and his shorts were torn in multiple places. “I don’t even know if we are heading in the right direction.”

It was a constant problem in the grass: zero visibility. He couldn’t even see Emilia, even though he could hear her rustling only a few steps behind them. The midday sun was of little to no help. It was the early afternoon and the sun still hung high about their heads, practically at its zenith. Trying to determine the cardinal directions from it was an exercise in futility.

On top of that, the pokemon presence in the grass made things much worse. In the games, there was somewhere around a one in ten chance of encountering a pokemon for each step taken when moving through tall grass. He didn’t think they were coming across a pokemon every ten steps, but the rate wasn’t much less. With miles of grass to traverse, they encountered a lot of wild pokemon. If they weren’t careful, their pokemon would become completely exhausted fending them off. Thankfully, most pokemon did not stick around for a full battle, fleeing after a single attack, or even before that, when they saw Cashe and his friends were not other wild pokemon.

More than once they had to stop and reorient themselves after a pokemon battle, usually resorting to lifting Lindon onto Cashe’s shoulders so he could see where they were properly.

“Magneton says it thinks we are,” Lindon said.

Magneton whirred like an old fax machine, confirming Lindon’s words.

“Well, does it know how far we have to go?” Cashe said.

“It’s not so good with time and distance,” Lindon mumbled.

Cashe flinched again as Emilia appeared beside them. Like Lindon, she was covered in sweat, though the rest of her was not in as poor shape. She lacked the tears in her clothes but sported an array of cuts on her arms and legs, and her shirt stuck to her chest from her perspiration. Omanyte rustled behind her, using its tentacles to move with surprising dexterity through the grass.

“Why are we stopping?” She said, “It can’t be that far now.”

“Why are there so many pokemon?” Cashe asked back, “This seems ridiculous.”

“It’s still early in the season,” Emilia said, “they probably aren’t used to trainers running through here and are coming to investigate. Don’t worry, in a week or two, most pokemon will be used to the presence of trainers and won’t bother investigating when we come crashing through their homes.”

“You make it sound like we’re wrecking a house or something,” Cashe muttered, pulling off his backpack to take a drink when they were resting, taking extra care not to dislodge Hatenna from her perch. “We-”

Cashe froze as the familiar chime of his trainer ID receiving a challenge.

“What the hell?”

“Was that a challenge?” Lindon said.

Emilia said nothing, instead staring in the direction of a now rustling patch of grass.

A young trainer emerged from it. He was in his late teens and dressed in an impressive array of gear. He was wearing a thick, long sleeve shirt and matching pants. They were dyed in mottled greens and browns, reminding Cashe of what a hunter might wear on Earth. He had taken the outfit a step further and attached a variety of vegetation to his body, making it look like he was walking around with a garden stuffed into various pockets.

“Hey,” the teen said. He had a smile on his face that was mostly friendly, but felt smug, as if he had just got one over on them, “Which one of you did I just challenge to a battle? Was it the kid?” He looked hopeful until he saw the Magneton floating above Lindon’s head.

“What the hell?” Cashe said, “You don’t know.”

“I just pointed my trainer ID at the group and pressed the button,” the teen shrugged.

“You must be hot in that gear,” Emilia smirked at the trainer.

The teenager shrugged again, “It’s worth it.”

Emilia snorted, “You need to rely on it to catch exhausted trainers off guard. I take it we aren’t far from the end of this place?”

“Pokedollars are pokedollars, and the only thing I need is a Fire Stone,” the teen said, crossing his arms at Emilia’s words, “Are you going to tell me who I challenged or not?”

“Why don’t you just check your pokedex?” Lindon said.

The teen frowned down at Lindon, his face wrinkling in frustration. “It’s out of batteries.”

“You challenged me,” Cashe said, taking out his own pokedex and flipping to his challenger’s trainer ID.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“True Rookie Graham. Undefeated,” Cashe said with the small raise of his eyebrow, “It would be more impressive if you weren’t camping out at the end of this brush.”

“I’ve only fought six people like this,” Graham said defensively.

“You only have twenty battles,” Cashe countered. He scrolled down to take a look at his battle history and pokemon usage. It looked like he used five pokemon regularly, all locally available. He had a heavy reliance on his Growlithe and Crabrawler. “I can see why you need a Fire Stone.”

Graham snorted. “Are you battling me or not?” Graham said, “I’ll happily take a free win if your pokemon are too exhausted.”

“I’ll battle,” Cashe said, watching Graham closely. He might have been wrong, but the teen looked a little disappointed. “Do we do this here or what?” Cashe looked around the thick grassy area. There would be no room to battle, and he doubted Graham was using a fire type in an area so flammable.

“Your friend was right,” Graham said, “We are near the edge of the field. I’ve cut a path to make getting out faster. Follow me and we should be through in a few minutes.

Cashe shrugged and followed the young man. After a few seconds of pushing through the grass, the vegetation fell away to reveal a narrow trail running through it. Cutting away the obstacles made moving through the field much easier and after only a few minutes of walking, the entire field fell away, abruptly transitioning back to a paved road.

They stepped out, Cashe sighing in relief at being able to see more than a few steps ahead of him. Lindon collapsed on the pavement, letting out an exhausted laugh as he lay, spread eagle, on the ground.

“Hey, you can’t lie down,” Graham said. He pulled off his coat, having entered the direct sunlight, “You will be in the way if the battle gets intense.”

“It won’t,” Lindon said with a relaxed breath, closing his eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

Graham’s face wrinkled as he frowned at Lindon, “What are you talking about?”

“Ivysaur! Primeape!” Cashe shouted into the thick grass, “Come on out, we’ve got to battle against a trainer!”

Graham’s eyes went wide, “You’re not using Hatenna?”

“She’s still new,” Cashe said, grinning as his two pokemon emerged from the tall grass.

Primeape came first, a walking disaster. Her fur was covered in dirt and mussed into a tangled mess, looking more brown than white. Bits of grass and other vegetation was caught in it, with even a few feathers leftover from encounters facing unlucky Spearows stuck in her fur. Her fists were covered in dried dirt and mud, but it was still just dark enough to be mistaken for drying blood. She snarled as she left the grass, loud and frustrated that she could not properly vent her anger against the weak pokemon in the tall grass.

Ivysaur stepped out right after her, shivering as he allowed himself to relax under the hot sun. His golden petals were shining, brilliant in the bright sunlight, and he grunted in his relief of no longer having to force his way through the tall grass. Looking stronger than ever, Ivysaur stood, proudly displaying the scar criss-crossing his chest to the unfamiliar trainer, raising his head and preening under the attention.

“W-what format?” Graham stuttered, swallowing visibly.

“I was thinking two versus two,” Cashe said, “Doubles.”

***

Unsurprisingly, Graham chose his Growlithe and Crabrawler for the battle. Just as unsurprisingly, the battle didn’t take long. Primeape and Ivysaur, both being evolved pokemon and both having worked tremendously hard to get there, easily outclassed Crabrawler and Growlithe.

To make matters worse, Growlithe had been trained with the Intimidate ability, meaning Primeape’s Defiant ability triggered, giving her an attack boost. It was effective on Ivysaur, making him shudder and take a cautious step back when Growlithe appeared on the field, but it would not matter too much, given the difference in strength between an evolved pokemon and an unevolved one.

It was unclear what the Crabrawler’s ability was to Cashe, but it didn’t end up making a difference. The hot sun of the Alola region was easily enough to trigger Ivysaur’s Chlorophyll, and with both his pokemon stronger and faster than his opponent’s the battle was over quickly, sending Graham slinking off down the road and towards the Pokemon Center at the end of the route.

The only hiccup in the entire fight was that Primeape was unable to use Rage Fist. The ghost type move that she had wielded so effectively against Haunter never came out, even after Cashe ordered Primeape to use it. It caused her visible frustration in the middle of the battle, which led to her almost being hit by Growlithe’s attacks, but frustration was nothing new to her and she quickly recovered.

After the battle, Primeape walked up to Cashe, clearly sulking from her inability to follow his orders. She fell flat on her butt after arriving at Cashe’s feet, turning her head down to glower at the asphalt.

“Upset you can’t use Rage Fist?” Cashe said to his sulking pokemon.

“Ape.”

“What’s Rage Fist?” Lindon asked, not looking up from where he lay on the ground or even opening his eyes, “I’ve never heard of that move before.”

“It’s a very strong attack that only a few Primeape can learn,” Cashe said, “They have to be specially trained or from the Paldea region.”

“She knows Rage Fist?” Emilia said, giving Cashe a quizzical look, “I heard you tell her to use it, but I thought you might not know about its limitations.”

“She used it during the Haunter attack,” Cashe said, “She used it a lot, actually, so she definitely knows the move.”

“Isn’t she from Kanto though?” Lindon said.

“At least one of her parents must be from Paldea, which makes sense,” Emilia said, “We know at least one of her parents was a trainer’s pokemon, and if a trainer was looking for a Mankey, they would be looking for a Paldean Mankey.”

“Primeape?” Primeape said, looking up at Cashe.

“Well, I have two theories about that,” Cashe said, digging into his backpack for his berry pouch as a reward for the day’s hard work, “The first is that you need to be very angry to use Rage Fist. You were just fighting a little Growlithe. There was no way you could get properly worked up over that. You’re too strong, You didn’t even take a hit.”

Primeape nodded. She was too strong.

“The other theory is that you need more training,” Cashe said, “You were able to use the move in the heat of the moment because the situation was desperate and called for it.”

This wasn’t technically true, considering what he had learned about the relative safety of having his dreams eaten from the pokedex, but Primeape didn’t know that.

“But you are a fighting type,” Cashe continued, “Ghost type moves are some of the hardest for you to learn, so some extra training might make things a bit easier for you when using the move.”

“Ape.” Primeape nodded, looking slightly mollified.

“Okay,” Emilia said, clapping her hands together, “Let’s get moving. It’s only four hours to sundown and we want to be at the Pokemon Center before then so we have time to eat and set up camp before Cashe has to go to his appointment.”

“I can’t.” Lindon said from the ground.

“You can’t,” Emilia said, “Or you don’t want to?”

Lindon grounded and sat up, but when he tried to get to his feet, his legs wobbled and gave out under him. “I can’t,” he said again.

“Shit,” Emilia swore, biting her lip, “How long do you think we need?”

“I don’t know,” Lindon said, “My legs hurt.”

Emilia glanced at Cashe. She had a troubled look on her face, tinged with guilt, “I don’t know if we can make your appointment.”

Cashe returned his pokemon to their pokeballs and walked over to Lindon, pulling him onto his feet and causing the boy to yelp. Cashe held him there and flipped his backpack around, letting it hang from his chest. He slung Lindon over his shoulder with a grunt, grabbing his legs under his arms and giving him a piggyback.

“You okay?” Emilia said, smiling softly at the display in front of her.

“Grab his backpack,” Cashe grunted. There was no way he was carrying that thing on top of everything else.

“Let me know if you need a break,” Emilia said, picking up her backpack and summoning Charmeleon from his ball. She handed the bag to him to carry. Charmeleon took it without complaint, holding it in his arms like it was a log.

“I shouldn’t need one.” Cashe said.

“I’m not too heavy?” Lindon asked.

“I’m not carrying you the entire way,” Cashe said, “Only until you’ve rested up. Then you’re walking again.”

“Oh, okay,” Lindon said, wrapping his arms around Cashe’s neck, “I’ll tell you when I feel better then.” He rested his head against Cashe’s shoulders. Twenty steps later, he was fast asleep.

*****