Veilstone is a proper city, large and lit and arranged on shelves like a storefront display. Hewn into rocky platforms, it is the present to Celestic’s past, descended from the mountain to proliferate with human industry.

As I walk beside Rayn and Maggie on the sidewalks of tarmacked roads, the elevated sections of the city keep its landmarks permanently in view. Third highest is the enormous mall, lit from all windows in the dark, cloudy evening. Second is the Gym, an imposing fusion of traditional dojo with Olympic fitness centre. Topping the podium is the Galactic Corporation Headquarters.

Once, I’m sure, it was Veilstone’s crown jewel. Now its windows are shattered and its antennae and satellite dishes lay on their sides, crumpled. Maggie refuses to look in that direction.

We stroll through the ground level of the city, past warehouses that transition into apartment blocks, watching the occasional car drive by, until Maggie clears her throat.

“Hey, uh… thanks for seeing me here, guys. I’m gonna head to my apartment, it’s on the next street over. Do you have a place to stay for tonight?”

I look to Rayn, who stares back impassively.

“No, I think we were planning on just sitting down somewhere and sleeping. We’re used to it.”

“Why not crash at my place, then? Doesn’t cost me anything, and I’d feel better if I repaid the favour somehow. The police took a lot of my stuff, but…” she shrugs, “better than nothing?”

“I want to see how humans live,” Rayn says. “We have seen many structures so far, but only entered Pokécenters and the blue ones.”

“Marts, yeah. Ok, sure,” I say, turning to Maggie halfway through.

“Alright. Come on, then.”

We follow her to a five-storey complex at the base of the hill the Gym is on. The area looks well maintained, if utilitarian. Maggie fishes a set of keys out of the pocket of her coat, then lets us in to a short foyer.

When the door closes behind us, I'm surprised by the silence.

The noise of the city, even at night, had slowly filtered into the background of my perception. The sounds of every movement seem amplified in the quiet hall: Maggie’s boots, Rayn’s claws clicking against the stone, the hum of the elevator ride to the fourth floor, the jangling of keys as Maggie unlocks her door and lets us in.

“And here we are,” she says as she takes off her boots, setting them at the edge of the stone entryway to step onto the wooden flooring of the empty, Japanese-style living room. “Kitchen’s on the left, there isn’t any food but you can get water if you want. Bathroom’s the first door down the hall on the right, I’ll leave it open, and the other two are my room and an extra I use for storage and workouts and stuff. You can set up here or there, doesn’t matter, make yourselves at home. I’m gonna go take an unreasonably hot shower, then sleep for three days.”

Rayn and I settle ourselves in the cosy green carpet, the only thing left in this space. A sigh of dry, warm contentment leaves me before I answer her. “Thanks, Maggie. Before you sleep, though, Rayn and I are going to have to talk about our next steps. Would you mind answering a few questions we might have?”

“Yeah, sure,” she calls out, already entering her own room. She sounds tired and relaxed, rather than resigned, so I figure I’m not asking too much.

I turn to Rayn... and sigh.

“So.”

“So.”

“Finally made it, after… a month? Damn.”

He flicks an ear. “Say what you want to say.”

I smirk a little. “Smalltalk isn’t useless, you know. This is a way of expressing how I’m feeling.”

“You are delaying. I will say it, then. Tomorrow you will go join the Gym, to train. I will not.”

…Yeah.

We both knew this, of course. Still, I hesitate to continue the conversation.

My chest is starting to ache faintly. My fingers comb between the fibres of the rug, searching for nothing.

“…Do you know where you’re going?” Is this where it ends for us? Already?

“Sunnyshore. I…” his eyes flee mine to stare at the floor, “spoke with the Audino at Celestic, while you were unconscious. About your goal, your mission.”

What?

I haven’t really thought about the time I spent insensate in the Pokécenter, recovering from the Zubat’s assault. About Rayn, standing there, waiting for me. In vigil. Had he known I would live?

He forces himself to look back up at me, to resume our ritual of mutual respect. “He asked me what my goal was. I could not answer.”

I stay silent.

“I told him of the great Luxray of the Valley. He told me of Volkner, the mightiest Gym leader.”

Rayn is quiet for a few seconds, thinking.

The muffled sound of the shower turning on seems to snap him out of it.

“I told you once that I was not a fool who sees only power. Yet, when I think of the future, all I see is a powerful Luxray running through the plains. It seems… small.”

I’m astonished. Did I really change his view that much? He always seemed self-assured… but of course I knew on some level it was a mask. It had been abundantly clear as just a young Shinx that he was emulating his father. Still…

“What do you want, then?” I ask. The only important question.

He gazes into me, an unmoving sphinx.

The living room window casts Veilstone’s light into the dark room we lay in, illuminating half of Rayn’s blue and black face in stark contrast.

His shaded eye glows a faint, piercing yellow.

“I do not know.”

The words are a whisper, a confession of cardinal sin.

“…That’s ok. It’s alright to not be sure yet.”

He huffs lightly. “The human view again. What Pokémon does not know what they are? But…”

He leans forward.

“I will find out. You have shown me how much more there is. Cleo the not-Buneary and her revolution against a Pokémon’s place in the world.”

Rayn’s eyes flash in the gloom.

“When I return, I will have an answer.”

When I return.

The knot is undone, and blood flows through me freely once again.

I exhale.

Sunnyshore, huh? I’m going to have my work cut out for me if I want to keep up.

Well, only one thing to do.

“We’ll ask Maggie about Gym membership and such in a bit. For now…”

I stand up, and let a smile come to my face. “Sixth rule: Once we leave our Gyms, we’ll meet again, here, to tell each other about the path we chose.”

Rayn too stands, and his regal air returns.

This time though, it’s not just an affectation. It’s a promise. A glimpse of what he can become.

“Agreed.”

-0-

I adjust the strap of my satchel and take a deep breath.

I got this.

The Gym’s imposing façade shines in the morning sun, that strange mix of Gym and gym. The traditional shingled roof covers both the tall white stone walls and glass-door entrances to both the Gym itself in front of me, and what I presume is the spectator arena about thirty meters to my right. I review my plan as I walk towards the automatic doors.

Since our discussion with Maggie last night, I’ve changed my approach. Instead of applying as an unconventional Gym Trainer, I’ll go the Gym Pokémon route. It rankles somewhat, but Maggie made it quite clear that without identification, qualifications, or any formal education to speak of, not to mention the nonhuman bit, it would be next to impossible to hire me as an independent adult for anything. I’m a bit nervous of whether they’ll accept a Normal type, but there’s not much I can do about that.

Maggie also gave us our deadline: five months. We’ve heard from people we encountered on our way here that the circuit is ending soon, at the end of Winter. It turns out this is followed by the Conference in the following month, then two months of downtime to prepare for the next circuit beginning the first day of Summer. End of the off-season is also when contracts and sponsorship programs typically end.

Five months until Rayn and I meet again.

I hop into the Gym’s lobby, lost in thought until I notice the facilities in front of me.

Separated from the lobby by a floor-to-ceiling wall of thick glass, the Gym’s main floor is filled with people and Pokémon sparring in boxing-style rings to the right, and training in the myriad of familiar and unfamiliar devices to the left. Weights, jumping ropes, sand-filled rubber balls, punching bags, and all manner of machines with pulleys and levers meant to be pulled by every conceivable muscle group fill the mat covered floor, separated from the sparring rings by a line of treadmills and a corridor of clearance.

Shouts of exertion and sounds of movement and impact can be heard from here, though the glass muffles most to a background drone. The lobby is quiet and surprisingly empty.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

I turn to the source of the voice, only now noticing the reception counter that covers the area to the right, and am met with two surprised looking people.

One, a burly middle-aged man in a gi, is holding a sheaf of papers and seems to have just noticed me. The other, the one who called out to me, is a young pink-haired woman, barefoot and wearing loose black pants with a red tank-top that shows off her toned physique. Wait…

“Hi, my name is Cleo. Would you be Gym Leader Maylene?”

They both startle. The man stares at me, slack-jawed.

“Just Maylene is fine,” she says, seemingly out of habit, still looking dazed.

I turn to face her properly, then bow. “Please let me train at your Gym!”

…

“…Uhm, we don’t really do things like that anymore,” she says eventually. “That was more my grandfather’s style. …Raise your head please.”

I straighten. I knew that was probably the case, but it doesn’t hurt to be respectful.

“Sorry, to clarify: you want to join as a Gym Pokémon?” Maylene asks. The man at the counter finally gathers his wits.

“How the hell are you talking!?” he shouts. His papers are forgotten on the floor.

I choose to answer Maylene. “Yes, essentially as a Gym Pokémon, although as you can see my circumstances are a bit unusual.”

“That’s… a way to put it.” She thinks for a few seconds. “I have a bit of time right now. Would you mind coming with me to discuss this? I’ll come back to talk about the scheduling later, Darren. …Darren?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“Huh? Yeah… sure,” Darren says absentmindedly, then goes back to staring at me.

I follow Maylene through the ‘employees only’ door to the left of the lobby, Darren’s eyes following me until I lose sight of him.

We turn right, and Maylene leads me through a hallway with doorways to locker rooms on the left and the Gym’s main room on the right, ending in another employee-only door. We enter what appears to be a break room with an attached kitchen, with a few people and Pokémon relaxing and eating. We attract curious glances, but Maylene waves them off.

She proceeds to lead me through yet another door, this one the sliding, rice-paper kind, and we leave the main building altogether.

The small complex she guides me to is all traditional Japanese with none of the modifications of the Gym itself: undisturbed sand and the occasional boulder framing a wooden building raised slightly off the ground. The sight seems incongruous with the bustling city in the background, surrounding our isolated hill.

“Um… Cleo, right?” Maylene asks as we walk.

I nod, then remember she’s walking ahead of me. “Yes.”

“I assume if you’re applying by yourself, you don’t have a trainer?”

“No.” My response comes out more forcefully than I intended, and I cringe slightly.

“Ah… are you opposed to being caught, then?”

“Yes. I hope we can come to an agreement, and I will do my best to integrate with everyone, but I am not open to being captured. That is non-negotiable.”

“I see…”

We round the corner of the building, revealing an inner courtyard that accounts for most of the complex’s total area, this side completely open if not for the covered wooden walkway we’re currently on. The actual ‘house’ part is in fact a thin U shape.

Two Pokémon are training in the field of white sand as we pass: a tall, bipedal blue fox with black accents and tan fur on its torso, and a smaller version without the other’s distinguishing features. A Lucario and Riolu, performing what looks like Tai Chi movements, slow and precise.

They both notice us, the Riolu looking curious. The Lucario glances at me briefly, before doing a double-take, then observing me with a furrowed brow.

Finally, we reach our destination. Maylene opens a sliding door on the section of the building furthest from the gym, on the courtyard-facing side, and beckons me inside.

The room looks like a modern office. Cabinets filled with awards and diplomas on the left frame the large desk in front of them, clashing with the overall Japanese style of the place. Many pictures of Maylene with a myriad of other people line the remaining walls. She sits behind the desk and gestures with an open hand. I hop up to the chair across from her, setting my satchel on the ground.

An awkward silence descends.

Is this a job interview?

From her seat, Maylene begins to blush. “Uhm… I’m sorry, I don’t think this was necessary. This is what I do for Gym Trainer interviews and I sort of… went on autopilot.”

“Oh. That’s alright… what do you usually do for Gym Pokémon?”

“Well, throughout the circuit the Pokémon we use for the lower level badges usually grow too strong, so we return them to their habitat. Then we do a few catching trips in May to offer a year of training to young Pokémon and replenish our numbers. Sixth badge and above are handled by my and the Gym Trainers’ personal Pokémon, so it works out. At least so far; it’s only my second year as Gym Leader…”

“That makes sense.” I think for a few seconds. “Well, I said my circumstances would be unconventional, why don’t we just do a kind of Trainer interview, go from there?”

Maylene brightens at the suggestion. “Sure! I can do that… I have some questions for you anyway.”

She takes a deep breath, then adopts a serious expression. “So, Cleo, why do you want to train with the Veilstone Gym?”

The shift in tone has me straightening in my seat. “Well, this Gym is my best option to grow stronger and more skilled in the whole Region, and I will need strength to pursue my goal.”

“Oh? What is your goal?”

“Giving Pokémon the autonomy they deserve. You’ve noticed my speech, and this lets me tell you what not enough people realize: many Pokémon are as smart as humans. They have limited experience, and no education beyond their own culture, so they seem primitive. But they are capable of learning and choosing for themselves, and therefore deserve the right to do so.”

Maylene’s serious expression melts away. “…Wow. Ok. We don’t… force them to do anything, though.”

I shake my head. “That’s not what it’s about, even though some trainers do force Pokémon and that’s horrible. The thing is, most Pokémon don’t even realize what they could have. What they could be. They’ve just never thought of it. They’re used to the humans being strange and training them and feeding them and taking care of their needs. It’s a cushy life for most. But it… diminishes them, reduces them to pets when they should be peers.”

“My Pokémon are my partners. We work together, I listen to their opinions, and they train other Pokémon themselves,” Maylene counters. She’s starting to sound a little distressed.

“Your Pokémon? That you own?”

“It’s not like that!”

Except it is. It wouldn’t do to antagonize her, though. I came to ask for help.

“Look, Maylene, it sounds like you have a good relationship with your Pokémon. I wasn’t trying to say otherwise. If everyone treated Pokémon the way you’ve treated me so far, I wouldn’t be worrying about this. But many don’t, and I think you know that.”

“…Yeah.”

“This is my goal. I can talk to people, tell them and other Pokémon that there’s a better way, a more just way. And for my words to carry weight, it helps to be strong.”

I smirk, trying to defuse the tension. “Also, I just like battling.”

I manage to drag a small smile from her. “Valid.”

Maylene settles back into her chair and expels a lungful of air. “Well, I wasn’t expecting all of that.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I asked about your goal. It sounds… noble. But it still doesn’t explain why you came here.”

“I like Fighting moves, and I’d like to develop a solid fighting style independent of whatever moves I end up learning. Besides, it’s not like I could go to the Normal type Gym.”

“I guess that’s true… and I’m glad you realize fighting is about more than just moves. Many Pokémon, and people, take a long time to realize that.”

She absently taps a finger on her desk, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks.

“But, uhm... there's a problem with your request. Honestly, we’re lacking a bit in Pokémon for the lower level badges, and in the last two months of the circuit most casual trainers try to get their third or fourth badge to round out their journey. I’d love to have your help for that… if you were a Fighting type.”

“Is that an actual rule? Or just convention?”

“It’s a rule. An archaic one, from when Gyms were very different from what they are now, but still a rule. I have to use the type I claim mastery of. ...I’m sorry.”

Shit. Time for the leap of faith.

“How about Pokémon that evolve into Fighting types? Like, could you use a Poliwhirl?”

“Well, yes, but Lopunny’s not a Fighting type either.”

“…Have you heard of Mega evolution?”

Maylene startles all over again. “What!? How have you heard about that? We were only told last year!”

“I have a friend who’s really into the battle scene. She showed me some things on her computer.”

“I… *sigh* I’m way past my mind-blowing quota for today… it’s barely ten in the morning!”

She runs a hand through her short pink hair nervously.

After a few seconds, she focuses back on me. “Ok, yes. It wasn’t legal this circuit, but it’s going to be for the Conference and eighth-badge matches going forward. What about it?”

“Mega Lopunny is a Fighting type.”

“…What?”

Thinking fast, I cover my ass so she won’t ask too many questions. “I can’t tell you how I know this, it’s a Lopunny cultural secret, but it’s true. Mega Lopunny is a Normal and Fighting type.”

“Uh… I guess that works. …This is not what I thought my day was going to be like.”

“Again, sorry about that.”

“Not at all…”

She stares into the distance for a bit.

A clap of her hands resets the mood. “Well… I guess that would be the next step.”

“What would?”

Without answering, Maylene stands and slides open the door to the office. “Hey, Lucario. Sorry to interrupt, would you mind evaluating a prospective new Gym Pokémon? We need to see where she might fit badge-wise.”

I pipe up before she assigns me to fight some monster Lucario. “I fought an Ace trainer’s recently caught Pokémon yesterday. He said he would take Prinplup to a third badge challenge. It was close, but I won.”

Maylene looks to me, then back outside. “Did you catch that?”

“Yes,” I hear Lucario say from the courtyard, “she will battle my son, then.”

“Huh?” a higher pitched voice exclaims.

Maylene turns back to me. “Sorry, that was rude of me. Would you mind battling now to see what challenges you might take? We can discuss details of your membership afterward.”

Yes!

Thank Arceus she was so cool about all this. Hurry up Rayn, I’m taking the lead.

“Not at all. It sounds like I would be battling Riolu?”

“Yep! Let me just grab a Chimecho for safety, then we can get right to it!”

With a new pep in her step, Maylene rushes back toward the gym, leaving me with the two jackal Pokémon.

I hop outside to the edge of the wood walkway, then bow lightly to both.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Cleo. I hope to work with you in the future.” There. That was nice and proper, right?

Lucario nods. “Likewise. I hope you can be a good sparring partner for my boy.”

I look to Riolu. Since they didn’t introduce themselves, I’m assuming they have no personal name. He hurriedly bows back.

“Yes, it’s good to meet you!”

“Would you mind a quick battle?”

He glances toward his father, before taking a steadying breath. “Yes. I mean, no! I don’t mind. I’m ready.”

Hmm… I’m not sure how I feel about that look, but I’ll reserve judgement for now.

I hop down to the white sands of our impromptu arena, and we wait for Maylene to return.

She soon rushes back with a blue-and-red windchime looking Pokémon in tow, and sets up beside Lucario at the edge of the courtyard behind Riolu. The Chimecho floats up to the side and releases a soft tinkling chime that briefly invigorates me.

“Alright Cleo, this is a match to show us where you’ll best fit in the Gym’s challenges, so show off what you can do, ok? No point in trying for a fast win or anything,” Maylene explains.

I nod. Riolu and I settle into our stances. I crouch to prepare for a dodge or Quick Attack, my head tilted slightly forward to make use of my ears, while Riolu stands with his feet planted far apart and his palms facing me. Some kind of ‘soft hands’ style, maybe?

“Tighten up. You’re not dodging Flamethrowers,” Lucario comments. Riolu looks briefly abashed, then narrows his feet to shoulder-width.

“Chimecho, start us off,” Maylene says.

A soft, high voice calls out in response. “Trainers, are you ready?”

Maylene and I nod.

“Begin!”

“Quick Attack!” Maylene orders. Riolu tenses up, then dashes forward for a palm strike. Without needing to wait for orders, and with Maylene telling me exactly what he’s going to do, it’s trivial to dodge to the side with a Quick Attack of my own.

“Force Palm, get in close.”

Riolu steps forward in a rigid stance and I prepare a Quick Attack in case he’s too fast for me to dodge.

It soon proves unnecessary. His strikes are… stiff. Practiced for sure, but it’s like he’s just thrusting his hands forward at the air rather than actually trying to hit me. I bob my head and tilt my torso to evade a few, then hop back to create distance, leaving a Thundershock as a parting gift.

Riolu’s determination falters.

Keeping my eyes on him, I vocalize my thoughts to the Gym Leader. “My friend and I have noticed this before, that simple commands in battles are a big tempo advantage for someone like me. Usually you give a command, opposing trainer hears it, then thinks, then responds with their own command, then I would hear it, then act. The way I battle cuts out most of those steps.”

Maylene hums thoughtfully. “I see… an interesting challenge for lower lever trainers. At higher levels, though, trainers use codewords and order tactics rather than individual moves, so that advantage is mitigated. The Pokémon themselves also have more experience and can decide what to do in the moment.”

Riolu looks back at her, uncertain.

“Ok Riolu, you know yourself best. Show me what you’ve learned!”

If anything, the lack of orders only heightens his nerves. I wait for him to settle himself.

How should I play this? I clearly have more experience than him, but it wouldn’t be right to disrespect him. I want to show what I have, not drag it out when he has no chance of winning…

Riolu takes a deep breath, then runs toward me to continue his melee assault. I prepare to dodge and observe.

Left to fend for himself, he peppers in Karate Chops with his Force Palm strikes, together with the occasional unpractised kick at my legs. His style remains rigid, the strikes only coming out in a couple set ways that don’t account for where I actually am.

Hmm…ok. I let myself be hit by a particularly slow Force Palm, suffusing my torso with Fighting energy in hopes of cushioning the super-effective strike.

Pain

The palm itself is almost gentle, but a wave of foreign vibrations invades me, like loudspeaker bass rattling my bones. I resist the urge to clench my stomach with my Limber muscles.

Stoking my own anger at the unexpected blow, I prepare to clobber Riolu in the face with an ear. He looks briefly stunned that I managed not to react to his hit, before shutting his eyes in anticipation of my Payback.

I take the opportunity to sweep his legs with a Low Kick. He somehow Detects the hit with his eyes closed, and hops to avoid it.

Looks like I underestimated him. Alright, then.

I transition from Low Kick into Double Kick seamlessly, throwing Riolu back head over heels onto the white sand. He manages to land on his feet.

“Thundershock and Payback… that’s good coverage for our Gym,” Maylene comments. I’d forgotten she was even here.

“Thanks,” I reply, studying Riolu carefully now. “I’ve also got Thunder Wave.”

He shifts his footing, and the rest of the world is ignored. He leans forward, as if to dash at me, but his right hand is hidden conspicuously behind his lowered stance. He twitches, like he’s about to Quick Attack. A Feint. What did he want? For me to dodge back? Delaying?

I Quick Attack toward him.

My approach reveals his trick. The hidden hand glows a dull orange, some attack he’s not yet ready to unleash. Too bad. I’m not giving him any more time.

I Jump Kick, aiming a knee at his sternum. Riolu has to choose: abandon the attack or launch it prematurely.

His inexperience chooses for him. Stuck in indecision, he does neither, and takes the flying knee straight in the chest.

My opponent is thrown to the ground, groaning. My focus fades.

“Hey, you alright over there?” I ask.

A soft chime precedes the warm wave of light that washes over us, Chimecho’s Healing Pulse alleviating the Force Palm's lingering ache.

Maylene quickly gets our attention. “Match! Great job guys, take a seat and relax for a bit. Riolu, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay…” he wheezes.

“You lost the moment you chose to gamble everything on a Drain Punch,” Lucario admonishes. “You did not land a single hit she did not allow you to land, so it would not have hit even had she not seen through your shoddy Feint. And don’t think I did not see you close your eyes.”

Riolu cringes.

“…But even if she did not show it, your Force Palm was good. That Detect was also good, even if it was unnecessary. I hope Cleo’s example motivates you to improve.”

“Yes, dad.”

Lucario nods, then turns to me. “Your aura was suffused with Fighting energy before you took his strike. Why?”

“I was experimenting with cushioning blows with Type energy, to see if a Fighting move wouldn’t hurt me as much if I focused on a different energy than my natural Normal type. Didn’t really work.”

He shakes his head. “Normal types are weak to Fighting attacks simply because they are more energy dense and physically damaging than Normal attacks. In that sense, the Normal type’s ‘weakness’ is different from most weaknesses in that it is purely mechanical, since Normal energy is unattuned with any element that might be bested by another. I have long held that the Normal type should be called Pure or Neutral type instead.”

Interesting… “What would you recommend, then? For defense?”

“Your own type is best. A flare of energy in a critical moment might energize your body enough to Endure a finishing blow, and an especially concentrated emission of power can Protect you from almost anything. Your species lacks enough natural bulk for a Bulk Up to be significant.”

“I see… thank you. That was great advice.”

“I welcome good questions. So long as you continue to be a fruitful sparring partner for my son.”

Riolu walks up to sit beside his father, still rubbing at his chest. Lucario puts a hand on his shoulder.

Maylene looks between us, checking that the conversation is over. “Alright Cleo, here’s what I’m thinking. You have a few good Fighting moves, a bit of coverage for Flying and Psychic types, some battling experience, and plenty of room to grow. I think you and Riolu would do great as the final pair of the third badge gauntlet, with you as an anchor and no trainer, just someone on the side-lines in case something goes wrong. Riolu will grow into his species’ unique style, and you will throw a wrench into any trainer who’s gotten too comfortable.”

I nod along to show I’m following. Riolu gulps, but steels himself. Lucario gently squeezes his shoulder in support.

“You will also do the first battle of the fourth badge test, because with a cohesive style and a few more tools I think you can really excel here. For this you have a couple of options: you can join Rafael and Croagunk or Darren and Hawlucha. What do you think?”

I don’t even need a second to consider it. “Hawlucha, for sure! They can be Limber like me and teach me about Bounce and other Flying moves.”

Maylene smiles at my enthusiasm. “Great! Come on, let me show you how things work around the Gym. We can discuss your training schedule and diet while we walk.”

We say our goodbyes to Lucario and Riolu, then Gym Leader Maylene guides me into my new life for the next five months.

Time to get to work.