“Excuse me, ‘scuse me, sorry could I just get past to my seat there? Thanks, ‘scuse me, wow you’re big… Ok, whew! Hi,” Maggie greets.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t wait.”

“Nah, I’m the one who’s late. Did I miss anything?”

The lights trailing the path to the trainer podiums on either side of the large packed-dirt field come on. I shake my head to answer her question, and Maggie takes her seat next to me on the second row of the indoor arena section reserved for Gym personnel, a great center-court place to watch Maylene’s match. Trainers and Pokémon from the Gym are packed in to see what they aspire to, the higher echelons of Fighting mastery.

“So, you’re Cleo’s friend, huh?” a voice calls from the row behind us.

“Oh, sorry, let me introduce you. Maggie, this is Helen, she’s going to be supervising my third badge matches. Helen, Maggie. And to my left here is Riolu, we’re sparring partners.”

Riolu waves shyly next to me, Maggie responding in kind.

Helen tugs at her blonde ponytail absently. “Hmm, well we can talk after the match. Nice to meet you, enjoy the show.”

“Thanks,” Maggie says, before turning back to me, “and thanks for letting me sit here, Cleo. These seats are great!”

“Thank Maylene, all I did was ask.”

“It’s all you had to do to earn a ‘thank you’.”

I flash her a quick smile and we collectively look out to the Trainer entrances.

The speakers in the corners come alive with a short fanfare, then a friendly voice fills the space.

“Good morning, Veilstone! How’s everyone feeling today?”

Claps and whistles answer from all around, strongest from our section.

“Damn, that bad? I know it’s early in the morning, but we’re here today for a top-level challenge! Our challenger has traveled all throughout Sinnoh, from Canalave to Snowpoint, and is finishing her journey with us, hoping to head to the Lily of the Valley Conference come Spring! Is this the welcome we’re gonna give her, Veilstone? Let’s hear some NOISE!”

We redouble our clapping efforts, aided by a few people capable of the obnoxiously loud whistles that require the help of fingers. I smirk. Doubtless she’d have said the same no matter how hard we clapped the first time.

“Now that’s what I like to hear! Our challenger today has gathered seven Sinnoh badges on her journey through her first-ever circuit, and is challenging for an eighth badge with more than a month to spare! A classic rising star’s tale! If she pulls out her Drapion, you know things are about to pop off! Give it up for Kim!”

The metal doors to our right open with the simulated sound of wood striking wood, invoking the dojo-like theming of the rest of the Gym.

In walks a tanned teenager in a simple and worn sweatshirt and jeans, despite her fancy-looking backpack and pokéball belt. Her fingers constantly play with the frayed sleeves. Comfort clothes?

We give her our best applause, Maggie shouting out a ‘Good luck!’ that has her look momentarily toward us. Kim walks up to the trainer box and takes a settling breath, concentrating on the opposing side of the field.

An anticipatory beat starts playing through the speakers. Wait, they actually play the music?

“Aaaand nooooww! Coming in at none-of-your-business kilograms! She’s quick, she’s sharp, she’s a mean, lean, Fighting machine! The youngest Gym Leader in the Region’s history! You know her, you love her, it’s the barefoot Fighting Genius! MAAYYYLLEEEEEENNEEEE!”

All around me erupt shouts and whistles and stomping feet, a thunderous show of support for the house team. Riolu gasps next to me.

“That’s Dad’s ball! He’s fighting today!”

I look to where he’s pointing, a scratched pokéball at the back of Maylene’s belt of six. She’s wearing her classic white pants and blue tank top as she walks in, and sports a couple new bandages on her arms, a common occurrence.

“You’d think your dad would deserve some cheers of his own… They’re the ones actually fighting…”

“Huh? I guess… He’s in Maylene’s team, so it’s for him too, I think.”

“Didn’t hear any of that being said, though. If you heard my talk with Maylene before I joined, this is the kind of thing I was talking about. Not malicious, but still demeaning.”

“Uhh… huh…”

Riolu looks slightly uncomfortable, before his eyes narrow in thought. He’s become a bit more proactive in our bouts, but his inexperience and lack of aggression still see me winning almost every time. Consequently, he’s started to listen closely to what I say, asking questions frequently after we train. It’s a little embarrassing how good his respect feels.

“I’ve never noticed that kind of thing before,” Maggie says from my other side. “Now that you point it out, it is a little sad.”

“Didn’t mean to bum you out, let’s just enjoy the show.”

I focus back on the field. It’s great that my friends are willing to think about this, but the last thing I want is to bring the mood down all the time.

It seems we missed some of the pre-battle banter, but both Maylene and Kim look confident, eyes locked. The referee Rafael, another Gym Trainer, raises two orange flags and begins laying out the rules.

“This will be a six-on-six battle between Trainer Kim and Gym Leader Maylene. Standard League rules apply. Four switches are permitted, and violations of the switching rules will result in a penalty. Penalties are one switch, or the retirement of the Pokémon currently battling if no more switches remain. As this is an indoor arena, if a Pokémon impacts the Psychic shields surrounding the field while not touching the ground, this will be considered a ring-out penalty. Shield check!”

Four previously unnoticed Medicham set up at the edges of the white-lined field, sequentially producing Reflects and Light Screens that cover the entire area, plus a good fifteen meters into the air. The Medicham nod, and the screens fade to a barely perceptible pink filter.

“As an eighth-badge challenge, restricted moves are legal. To the audience, I will reiterate the instructions you received earlier: If you hear the siren, exit the arena through the nearest emergency exit in a calm and orderly fashion, front-rows first. The battle ends when either trainer forfeits or all of a trainer’s Pokémon are retired. Ties are left to the discretion of the Gym Leader. Trainers, are you ready?”

Wow, that was a lot more than what Wiggles said. Then again, this is an official League match. It’s at least good to get a better understanding of the rules… I haven’t yet had time to look up this stuff on Maggie’s computer.

The music kicks into high gear as red flashes reveal Hitmontop and Skarmory on opposing sides.

I focus on the field. Come on, show me.

Rafael lets the flags he holds in his hands drop. “Begin!”

“Slow,” calls out Maylene, while Kim simply nods to herself, saying nothing.

The Steel-plated cassowary Pokémon takes to the air. She burbles and coughs, like a cat trying to hack up a furball. The humanoid Hitmontop begins a Capoeira jig that has him stepping from side-to-side.

Why’s he wasting time with that?

My question is answered the second Skarmory spits out a deluge of caltrop Spikes that cover the field. Hitmontop pivots from his swaying movement into a blindingly Rapid Spin, balancing on the spike atop his head. The wind he creates sweeps the hazards off the field in an instant.

“Tsk. Keep away,” Kim orders.

“Fall wind,” Maylene counters.

Skarmory rises almost to the height limit of the field, launching overlapping Air Slashes that distort the air with their passage. Like a spy dodging lasers, Hitmontop weaves between the barely perceptible lines, constantly advancing toward his opponent.

When he’s directly underneath, he strikes. A skyward jump propels him toward Skarmory, right leg cocked back as if for a football kick.

The strike hits Skarmory in the joint of the wing with the torso, disrupting her flight. Hitmontop’s force turns his whole body with the kick, and he ends up facing away from his opponent. It turns out to be intentional, a whip-fast tail cracking into Skarmory’s neck. Then Hitmontop completes a full mid-air revolution, and the third strike of the Triple Kick comes as an axe-kick to the top of the bird’s head, sending her crashing down to the ground.

Just like that. One-two-three.

“Skewer him!” Kim shouts.

“Summer sun,” comes the response.

Skarmory quickly recovers and begins harrying Hitmontop with a storm of Slashing talons, Steel Wings, and Drill Pecks.

Hitmontop…

Dances.

The rhythmic sway of his Capoeira style is constant, but somehow unpredictable. He ducks, dodges, moves, delivering opportunistic kicks and devastating Revenge strikes when Skarmory manages a hit. Low Sweep, a breakdance-like move that has him rotating a leg in a full circle around him while his hands support and somehow don’t impede the movement, into a handstand Triple Kick, into finishing the somersault, avoiding the imminent Drill Peck.

This. This is what I want. His feet are obviously his main weapon, but he doesn’t root the supporting leg to the spot for a kick, losing his mobility. The hands are support, the head is support, the body is a harmonious system, where any part can serve any function necessary.

The battle progresses in front of us, Hitmontop beating Skarmory only to be taken out by a vicious Carnivine, who’s answered by a Machamp, and so on. It no longer matters.

How can I achieve that?

Looking back, I had a hint of what was possible from my fight with mom. She too used her hands to free herself for a kick, even if it was a little awkward.

I picture my ideal self. Highly mobile running at range, where I’m weakest. Close in fast, then transition into a versatile style that leverages my body to empower my legs. Can I free up my hands, too? I don’t have a head spike, and my ears will be too weak to strike with… But are they too weak to support my weight?

Mom did manage a Pound with her long ears, even if it was harder… Maybe I can do it.

My mind is ablaze with images of incredible feats of acrobatics, an unstoppable, untouchable Lopunny…

I have to learn from him.

A paw shakes my shoulder, startling me back to reality. “Look! Dad’s coming out!”

I blink. Most of the fight passed me by.

The large screen, set above the stands opposite us, shows the team’s scores. Kim has two Pokémon left; Maylene has one.

A Toxicroak takes deep breaths on Kim’s side of the field, facing the emerging Lucario head-on.

Clearly a crowd favorite, the whistles and shouts from our section force me to curl up both ears. Even Maggie seems to be glued to the scene, not acknowledging her surroundings in the least.

A wayward shout of ‘Go honey, I believe in you!’ has Maylene lose her composure for a second, and I spot my slots partner from the casino. Good.

Rafael’s flags drop.

“Asshole mode!”

Maylene is silent.

Toxicroak saunters forward, a disrespectful Swagger in his step that has Riolu sputtering in indignation.

“You’re the ace? Pretty shit ‘mon if you ask me. I heard the Champion’s Lucario makes three of you, doggy,” he Taunts.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Lucario looks on, impassively.

In the middle of his strut, Toxicroak stops with a full-body shudder. “Ah Skuncocks.”

A Psychic distortion forms around his body, Toxicroak writhing in pain for a second before faceplanting, unconscious.

Kim returns him with a sigh. “Yeah, about what I expected.” She huffs. “It was always gonna come down to this, huh?”

Clenching the ragged sleeve of her sweatshirt with her left hand, Kim throws out her own ace. A hulking arachnid tank hits the field. Clawed, fanged, many-legged, Battle Armored. A menace.

“Here it iiiissssss!! Ladies and gents, this is the titan that crushed Candice’s Froslass with a single Night Slash, the trump card that has people betting on Kim for Rookie of the Year on Pokénet’s most barely-legal betting sites! Make some noise for a battle of the aces!”

Again we sacrifice claps and whistles to appease the announcer, and the fast-paced soundtrack to the battle breaks down into a single heartbeat drum.

The flags drop.

“Earthquake!”

“Winter rain.”

Drapion raises all but his back-most legs, eight spiked appendages as opposed to games’ depiction of four, then crashes down to the field, shattering it. The entire arena shakes, and my lightweight self is thrown onto Riolu’s lap, who goes ‘Eep!’.

Lucario, however, seems to Detect where every crack and eruption of earth is going to appear ahead of time, and calmly steps between them. Kim’s mic catches a ‘Fu-’ before being momentarily muted.

“Rush him!”

Drapion dashes forward in a flash, surprising in his speed for something so bulky. His opponent proceeds to play a cruel game of tag with him, dodging and evading throughout the field, all the while tagging Drapion with repeated strikes from a distance.

Although…

“Riolu, what move is that? How’s he doing that?” Lucario seems to just thrust a hand forward, and Drapion shifts back as if struck.

“Uhh… uhm… Cleo…”

I look at him. Up at him. Oh, I’m still laying across his legs. “My bad, was engrossed in the match,” I say as I right myself.

“No… no problem. That’s Vacuum Wave, he sends out a super-fast emission of Fighting energy that’s almost impossible to see. Isn’t it incredible?”

I nod, concentrating back on the match. Drapion seems to have adjusted to the tempo of the Vacuum Waves, dodging most, but the match isn’t progressing. Kim seems to be losing patience.

“Dirtkid! Now!”

Drapion practically dives into the earth, Digging so quickly that it seems the ground itself is repelled from him.

Maylene hums disapprovingly. “This is an eighth-badge match, Trainer Kim. Challengers are expected to do their homework. Summer rain, Lucario. Bright.”

Lucario roots himself in place, eyes trailing a path underneath him where it seems he can sense Drapion just fine. Aura sensing most likely.

A bright globe begins to form between his outstretched hands.

Soon the scorpion emerges in a shower of soil, but Lucario simply hops back to blast him with an Aura Sphere that leaves Drapion reeling. Reeling and… screeching? Drapion shouts and stomps, and Stomps, and STOMPS. A Stomping Tantrum builds, fed with fury and frustration. This time neither Lucario nor Maylene see it coming.

More violent rumbles destroy the field, crushing Riolu’s father in between slabs of erupting earth.

“Press!”

As soon as Lucario blasts himself free from his Ground prison, Drapion strikes. Fire infused Fangs crush the canine’s snout with a Sniper’s precision, and a loud crack is heard by everyone. I wince.

He doesn’t. With a tungsten-weight Meteor Mash, Lucario forces Drapion to cough, releasing his Fire Fang.

Lucario swiftly grabs the Ogre Scorpion by the neck and assumes a stable stance, legs bent. Then he heaves. Two-and-a-half meters of armored arachnid are thrown into the air in an unbelievable suplex. Drapion crashes onto his back, legs spasming. We stare, open-mouthed.

Kim screams from her podium. “This is it! Give it everything!”

From his position on his back, Drapion’s powerful arms wrap around his opponent, trapping him. Insectile legs curl up like a dying spider, the scorpion concentrating entirely on the blindingly bright mote of light forming between his jaws. Maylene inhales.

“Pro-”“HYPER BEAM!”

White.

I blink rapidly to clear my eyes from the flash. Only then do I notice the terrible noise.

All four Medicham struggle to contain the weapon of mass destruction that impacts the top of the field’s Light Screen enclosure, refracting into a shower of rainbow sparks. The scene reminds me of Spear Pillar.

Lucario’s entire upper body is caught in the beam that rips air apart like an endless thunder. We wait with bated breath.

After five continuous seconds, the Hyper Beam fades.

Revealed is a slack Drapion, heaving ragged breaths, and a grim figure standing over him. Lucario’s fur is burnt black, the revealed skin raw and blistered. He is battered, charred, with a broken snout. Unbowed.

He stares calmly into Drapion’s inhuman black lenses, and fear can be seen in the chitinous face.

A red light startles me.

Lucario is returned.

The arena is silent.

“Congratulations, Trainer Kim.”

Maylene’s voice shakes Rafael from his stupor, and the orange flags are raised. “Gym Leader Maylene has no Pokémon remaining. The challenger wins!”

The room explodes into applause.

“Wha… but… dad didn’t lose…” Riolu murmurs, confused.

I lean in to avoid being overheard. “Hey now, don’t take this away from them. Your dad is, like, Elite level. Maylene’s job isn’t to win, it’s to test trainers. She believes that Kim’s team put on an eight-badge display. Let’s cheer for them, ok?”

“Yeah… yeah you’re right.”

Kim and Drapion seem torn themselves, her hand on his head as they speak with Maylene at the center of the field. My hearing would let me hear their words even through the audience’s cheers, but I refrain.

Maylene seems to say something in the same vein as what I told Riolu. A badge and TM later, Drapion and Kim look happy and determined.

A glance at Maggie, however, shows she’s not as thrilled as most of the audience.

“What’s up, Mags? Didn’t like it?”

She startles. “Huh? No, it was exciting. It’s just… Lucario looked really hurt. Are they really ok with this? You battle, Cleo. How can you stand that?”

I look down reflexively. “Ah. Well… I’ve thought about it some. Rayn and I trained for months before we left home, and at first being strong was just a means to an end, a necessity. Recently though…”

I sigh. “Look, I’m supposed to say that I wish no one ever had to fight, and I do. But honestly… It feels good. The power, the energy, outsmarting someone else in a lightning-speed contest. Fighting gives me such a rush. It’s an animal feeling, but it’s the truth. Sorry.”

“What? Why are you apologizing?”

“I dunno. I guess I should be better than this.”

“I wish I was like you.”

My head whips around to stare at Riolu. He looks mortified, like he didn’t mean to say that aloud. He gulps.

“That- that rush… I don’t get that. The first time we fought, all I could think about was how much it was going to hurt you if I hit.” He refuses to meet my eyes. “Our species’ Palm style is really good at inflicting pain. Isn’t that just… awful?”

“Woah, woah, hold up. Riolu? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was I supposed to say?”

“That you didn’t want to fight!”

“I NEVER want to fight! I… I want to like it, so bad…" He shakes himself. "Forget it. What am I doing?”

Riolu jumps to the field and rushes to join Maylene as she leaves.

“Wait, no! Riolu… crap.”

“Cleo? Is he… alright?” Maggie asks, already wincing at the obvious answer to her question.

“No, I don’t think so. Turns out I’m a real piece of shit, reveling in violence while the good people are left to suffer quietly.”

“Ok, stop. I don’t know how Buneary ages work, but you sound like me when I was fifteen. What I asked you before? Forget all that, I was being stupid.”

The arena is emptying around us, and I spot Helen giving me an uncertain look as she leaves. She may not have heard Riolu’s side, but it’s still going to be an awkward conversation later.

Stop stalling. I force myself to face Maggie.

“Just because you have a different perspective doesn’t mean you’re bad. And liking animal things like food or… fighting, I guess, isn’t bad either. You’ve treated me better than my own parents, and whatever Riolu has to deal with isn’t your fault. That’s honestly a little disrespectful to him.”

“…Huh?”

“I didn’t get his side, but it sounded like he didn’t share your… passion, I guess.”

“To put it lightly.”

“But he fights anyway.”

“Because… his dad makes him, or expects him to, or… he expects it of himself or something! I don't know, but it's not right!”

“Says you? No, nevermind that, even if it isn't right, do any of those have anything to do with you?”

“…No. But I’m his friend! I have to help him.”

“Absolutely. That’s not what this is about, though. You're blaming yourself for not doing something before he even told you anything was wrong. Like it was your job to fix his life from the get-go. That’s pretty insulting. Other people are capable of working on their own problems.”

He gets to make his own choices. Fuck.

“Alright, fine, I get it. He’s his own Pokémon, responsible for himself. I’m still helping, though.”

“Of course. Obviously. I can’t thank you and Rayn enough for your help, and I hope I can reciprocate in the future.” Maggie rubs the bridge of her nose. “How did we get to me lecturing you?”

“No idea, I lost track. When the hell did you get so wise, anyway?”

She smiles softly. “I’ve been putting in a lot of work on myself the last few days. Thinking about how I got where I am, what part of it was my fault… or my responsibility, I guess.”

A stray ray of sunshine hits my eyes, and I notice we’ve made our way outside.

“…I should get back to the Gym. I need to do my morning workout, then find Hitmontop.”

“The one from the battle?”

“Yeah. I’m going to ask him to teach me his style.”

“Woah. Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. And thanks for… this.”

Maggie just shakes her head. “Our days-off line up next week. Let’s go somewhere.”

I nod. With a quick hug and a farewell, I prepare to dive back into training. I’m with Hawlucha this afternoon, so I might only see Riolu tomorrow. I won’t know what he wants to do until then.

For now, time to head to the high-level facility to beg Hitmontop to tutor me in his ways.

-0-

“No.”

“Just… no?”

“Yeah, Top, you can’t just go ‘No’ and leave the kid hanging like that!”

Hitmonchan’s support is appreciated, but ‘Top’ remains unmoved. Hitmonlee at his side says nothing, as I suspect is usual.

“She asked to learn my style. It’s mine, not hers. So I won’t teach her.”

Hitmonchan and I stare at the flawless circle of logic in front of us, our lunches forgotten.

Apparently, they always eat together, and today they allowed my plate to join their usual circle of bowls in the dormitory section of the basement floor of the Gym, for sixth-badge-and-up training.

Two bunks over, getting ready to return to sparring after her break, the eavesdropping Infernape is trying to keep a straight face. She is failing.

Miming a put-upon sigh, Hitmonlee quickly signs to Hitmontop with two three-fingered hands, and his mulish look turns surprised.

“Lee is telling me you want help to develop your own style, which you imagine will be similar to mine. Is that what you meant?”

“…Yes?”

“Sure, I’ll help.”

A monkey’s cackles explode from the hallway.

Hitmonchan covers her face. “I should’ve known it would be something like that. Look, Cleo, Top’s a great fighter, but he’s a complete Slowpoke at everything else. You want help getting stronger, you can practice with me. I’ve got the biggest repertoire out of all of us; if you want to develop yourself, it’s guaranteed I’ve got something you can use.”

“Oh. Thank you so much… I did want to learn the elemental Punches.”

“See, there you go! Stick with me and you’ll go far!”

Hitmonlee shakes his head, then launches a storm of sign-language at me I am completely incapable of understanding.

“Don’t listen to Lee. What you need is your own way of fighting. That’s what makes you strong.”

I look to Chan for help.

“Lee said you need to focus on only a few moves practiced to perfection. He saw you practicing your kicks the other day and thinks you’re decent, which from him is a huge compliment. He can push those kicks to the next level, he says. But honestly, I still think you’re better off with me. It’s an endless debate between us, but unless you plan on becoming a permanent Gym ‘mon, you won’t be able to keep up the constant practice Lee puts in. You’re better off getting a few useful tools to get you out of a pinch.”

Wow. Suddenly I’ve gone from zero to all three offering me help. This is… a little overwhelming.

Still, flattering as it is… Who do I pick?

I originally came here to get help from Hitmontop, and I still think we’re the most closely aligned, but he does seem a little… straightforward. Would he make a good teacher?

Hitmonchan is easy to get along with, and type coverage is always something I intended to get, but her fighting style is nothing like mine.

Hitmonlee is the kicking Pokémon… But like Chan said, I don’t have time for his ‘I fear the man who has practiced one kick ten thousand times’ method.

Best case scenario…

I eye the Hitmon trio askance. Can I get away with this?

“What if… What if I helped settle that debate?”

Lee raises a smooth brow, while Chan smirks like she can see what’s coming. Top is eating his lunch.

“I’ve got over four months at the Gym before I leave. I could try each of your approaches for a month, then give my opinion on which worked best.”

“Greedy girl… You want it all, huh? Heh, I respect that. Sure, why not! What do you say, Lee? Top? Want to see if we can turn this kid into a monster?”

Lee considers it, then nods.

“How ‘bout you, Top? She should probably start with you, get a decent foundation.”

Hitmontop raises his eyes from his food. “Are we starting?”

I almost can’t believe that worked. “Yes! Thank you! Hitmontop, then Hitmonchan, then Hitmonlee, if possible.” I'm going to need Lee's help for a particular idea. While I do want to learn from Chan, it’s not exactly Thunderpunch I was hoping to develop.

“Ok.” He looks me up and down. “Your arms are very weak. Twenty burpees.”

“Wait, now?”

“Yes.”

“We’re eating!”

“You’re talking.”

“I mean it’s lunchtime.”

“Lunchtime is when you’re eating.”

Oh, Arceus.