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Pokemon: Whispers [Pokémon OC Fanfic]
Chapter 3: From first steps and new friends III

Chapter 3: From first steps and new friends III

Normally, the trainer schools are closed on Sundays – especially since Melemele isn’t big enough to make housing for students reasonable. But Hala and my father pulled out all the stops to let me compete against four trainers. To be more precise, against the four top school students.

The sky above us has turned grey and while my gaze glides over the beige façade of the building, my father lets out a snort. He has his arms folded in front of his chest. The blue jumper makes him somehow gloomy, as does his expression, which is difficult to assess; Hala, in comparison, is much more relaxed. He bobs up and down and is probably the only one who believes in me right now.

The saliva in my mouth is stale and tastes about as bland as the Pokémon food from the cheap shop. The white floral print top on my body seems to stick to me thanks to the humid air and even the purple tips of my hair curl under the air. Several times I try to wipe my damp hands on my long grey jeans, but they are just as damp as everything else here.

“You’re welcome to look around, Domino,” Hala finally begins. “Maybe you’ll learn a few more things while you’re browsing, and if you stumble across any of the students because they got distracted again, then fight them. If you lose ... we will know. After all, your Zorua will have to be healed then, won’t it?”

They don’t have to ask me to leave everything with them or that I continue to wait. Both are aware that defeat would be a problem for Zorua. And they also know that I have nothing in my pockets. All that’s hanging on me is Zorua’s Poké Ball.

“Then ... I’ll have a look around.”

I’ve never liked schools. As a normal person with no future in fighting or anything Pokémon related, I went to one of those normal schools where you only learn the most necessary things about Pokémon. Everything else is lessons. Educational material about biology and mathematics and endless other things that are more boring than watching a Magikarp.

Walking towards the building and leaving the front door behind me brings back that same oppressive feeling I remember from back then. That strange heaviness because I couldn’t go to elite schools like other kids where Pokémon were the major topic. Sometimes my father even had to employ a private tutor because there were no ordinary schools around.

The children of these four walls probably have a lot more fun than I ever had. But in return, I’m the one who can go on an adventure after this. Means I can also finally experience and find out something.

The cool air inside is less humid than outside, but the silence doesn’t make the circumstances any less unpleasant. I wouldn’t be surprised if in the next few seconds a Haunter crawls through the walls and laughs at me. While there is little fear of Ghost-type Pokémon, that doesn’t make the darkness and silence any friendlier. It’s not what I would look for on my days off when I don’t have to.

My gaze wanders over lockers and pictures. Over a staircase that leads to the second floor and over a wide entrance area with a hallway and a seating area in front of it. The classrooms are presumably locked, so I don’t have to bother trying to open the doors. But a mood like this contributes to curiosity in some, so it wouldn’t be objectionable if someone ran into me in the corridors.

With that thought, it carries me forward a few steps before I notice a whisper. It’s not in my head, which I consider positive, but it’s nearby. Without further ado, I close my eyes and try to find out where it is coming from, and sure enough, it carries me a few steps to the right, where a side door leads outside. A small upper window gives me a glimpse out, and although I would have been prepared for something shocking, there is only a young girl drawing circles on the sandy ground with a stick.

Sighing, I push the door open and suck in the thick air again. Meanwhile, the creaking noise makes the stranger look up. Her brown eyes scrutinise me before she purses her lips and gets to her feet. “Are you that girl who wants to fight the top four in the school?”

“I wouldn’t say I really want to. But if I were, why aren’t you at the front near the fighting fields?”

The corners of her mouth drop. “Because I don’t want to fight you. It’s Sunday! I wanted to watch my favourite show with my Pokémon. Instead, my mother told me I had to come here. I was hoping you’d just leave when no one showed up.”

“So the others are hiding in the building, too?”

She merely shrugs before reaching for her Poké Ball and rolling her eyes. “So. Let’s get this over with. I’ll beat you and enjoy the rest of the day.”

“Whatever.” I reach for my Poké Ball as well. With the horrible air, it felt better to keep Zorua in the comfortable ball instead of letting her swim through the air like a Vaporeon.

Our eye contact doesn’t break as I move a few feet away from her. Maybe ten before I stop. It’s probably less than it should be, and anyway, this alcove is far too narrow to comply with the rules of an official fight, but it will have to do. If one of us gets hurt, that’s a problem we have to bear.

Then we throw our balls at the open space between us and while my lips remain silent, a hiss escapes my opponent. “Chop those pests, Pikipek!”

A sparrow. At least it looks like a sparrow, and while it might be wise to use the Rotom, there’s still the fact that I’m carrying nothing but my Poké Ball. No tools. No information. Just Ying, facing a new opponent that is definitely a Flying-type; my dear Zorua, who looks like a sparrow as well.

She is a master with the mirage through and through.

My opponent’s interested hum sounds mocking. “I see you also possess a Pikipek. But don’t think your measly Pokémon can compete with my prized treasure!”

If only she knew.

But surprises are our speciality, so I let her take the first step – the first attack – to show me what’s so great about a Pikipek.

“Peck!” Her exclamation is louder than anything she’s brought to her lips so far, and although I don’t want to respond, a wince escapes my shoulders. Simultaneously, the sparrow begins to flutter.

Pikipek’s wild wing beats make it fast and before I can get anything out of myself, it has bridged the distance to Zorua. Its head snaps back, ready to ram the tip of its beak into Ying’s flesh. But she’s not stupid, nor is she rooted to the spot. I don’t have to say anything to get her to dodge. She has Pikipek in her sights better than I do.

“Scratch!” I quickly issue an order to Ying, not wanting to waste her gallant leap to the side. Sure enough, she is already lifting a deceptive wing as she lands just beside Pikipek. It takes no further momentum to smash the pointed feathers against the sparrow’s plumage.

Staggering, Pikipek stumbles a few inches to the side as Ying leaps to beat her wing against its feathers one more time. It leaves no visible damage, but the force should still shake this Pokémon’s small body.

“Pikipek, peck! Use it!”

For a moment, my opponent’s command seems insane. Pikipek is still staggering as if it can’t find its balance. And Ying is already hovering over it, ready to deliver the final blow. But just as her wing jets down to end the fight, Pikipek dodges it in a spin. Ying lands on the ground right next to it, unable to make the next leap before the Pikipek’s beak bores into her side.

The beak doesn’t come through the fur or through the skin of my Zorua, but the small sound that escapes her and the mirage that collapses with a blow worries me enough to clench my hands into fists. I cannot intervene.

Haltless, Zorua slams onto her side and rolls away just in time as Pikipek strikes a second time with its beak. Its force flings the dust up from the ground, leaving small holes where its attack has disappeared. Ying, however, gets back on her paws and gains distance.

“That wasn’t a Pikipek at all!” The girl across from me raises her brows. “It’s pretty cute. It’s a Zorua, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I reply to her curtly before filling my lungs with air and turning my attention back to the fight. “Ying, pursuit! And whenever you get the chance, use your paws!”

I don’t have to tell her twice to get her to lower her head and devour Pikipek with a stare. She’s ready to win this fight, no matter how exhausting it gets.

Then, in a flash, she chases forward. Her soundless paws bring her back to the sparrow within seconds, its eyes widening slightly. Wings spread, it puts its head on the back of its neck, ready to peck again, and though it is exactly the command it receives, it misses Zorua by far. Ying dodges it in mid-air. Her limber body drifts to the side, bringing her to the ground a step beside the Pikipek. Another leap sends her power rushing forward so that her body rams her opponent’s mercilessly.

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The momentum jerks Pikipek off its tiny feet, causing it to flip and tumble onto its side before flapping its wings to straighten up again. Zorua, however, doesn’t give it time to adjust itself. Before it can collect its wits, Ying slams her clawless paw into its face – just above the beak.

Again it sweeps the sparrow off its feet and when it hits the ground this time, its wings remain spread wide. It only twitches its legs, but has clearly lost consciousness.

“Pikipek!” The girl doesn’t wait a moment longer than necessary as she rushes towards her Pokémon and takes it in her arms. It recovers quickly but remains in the protective embrace of its owner.

Ying, of course, is doing splendidly. She struts in my direction, wagging her bushy tail lightly so that I spread my arms and let her weighty body bounce against my chest.

“You did great! One fight out of four passed.” Briefly, I bury my nose in her fur. She smells a little dusty. Her nearly thirteen kilos tug at my muscles.

“You won...” Finally, our opponent speaks up. “That wasn’t the result I wanted ... but at least I can go home now.” She shrugs. “Good luck or ... something like that...”

She doesn’t pay me another glance as she turns away and leaves – almost as if I’m just a Gastly dwelling within the walls of the school. Still, I can’t help the thin smile on my lips. If all the fights are going to be this easy, then I’ll get through here with ease.

Zorua and I are probably much stronger than this school’s children. We have an advantage that no one can take away from us.

Slowly, I ease Ying back onto her four feet before we wander back through the door and into the interior of the school. The silence still engulfs every corner that can be seen, but this time, it seems less oppressive than before. It lightens my steps and makes me listen more attentively. My eyes wander over the entrance area, where there is still no one, and without bothering further with the sitting area, I stroll up the stairs to the second floor.

The light penetrates better inside here because the few holes of light on the horizon allow a faint glow to break through. Simultaneously, I don’t miss the boy at the window. The gleam in his eyes is more haunting than the island’s sunshine on a good day and even though I don’t know the first thing about him, it’s written all over his face that he longs for an adventure. Just as I do.

But he is hardly older than the girl before him, maybe fourteen, and the opportunity to go on a journey is ultimately taken up by very few. Even an island challenge, which opens the doors to the other islands and makes it possible to see something more in a challenge, is hardly taken up. This is the reason my father chose Alola. Here, most stay right where they started.

“Mind it, I’m not one of them.” Wrinkling my nose, I gesture Zorua to step in front of me before crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You there! You’re one of my opponents too, aren’t you? Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

The boy’s eyes are slow to detach from the firmament and as he turns to me, he eyes me with a dark gaze. His lanky figure seems to waver slightly as he takes posture and strokes his blond hair once. “In here?”

“Better than going out now. The air is better.”

I have no clue what it was like for Zorua outside, but the stifled air made me sweat uncomfortably. Besides, my throat is parched and everything in me just wants to disappear into a room with air conditioning.

“If you say so. But don’t complain in the end.”

It’s a mystery to me why I should complain, but when he throws his Poké Ball and silently calls for his comrade’s presence, it definitely brings a little more sweat to my brow. I’ve seen this thing before.

It looks like a potted plant and it could certainly be mistaken for one, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that some Pokémon are little phantoms. The Bonsly that wobbles docilely back and forth and looks at me with its startled, dilated yellow eyes is a Rock-type. This not only makes it robust, but it is also vulnerable to water – which Zorua cannot supply.

“But we’ll still manage,” I mutter to myself before thrusting my chin forward and tightening my shoulders. “Zorua, scratch!”

Instantly, Ying lunges forward, paws spread and claws clearly visible. She knows it takes force to do damage, which this Pokémon can feel. But Bonsly is stubborn and its trainer has nothing more than a shallow smile for us. Then Zorua chases the claws over her opponent – barely able to do more than a superficial, barely visible scratch.

At least as dumbfounded as I am, Zorua pushes away from Bonsly with her back paws, and though the Pokémon sways, it stays in place. Only when its owner stretches his arms away and grins at me does it move.

“Copycat.”

It’s a very simple command. One that we could easily dodge, but instead of attacking us, the Bonsly bursts into tears. Thick beads roll down its already exhausted-looking face and while I’m at a loss, Zorua backs away a little.

The circumstance harbours more irritation than clear insight and as the Bonsly comes running towards Zorua, it seems impossible to do more than dodge. Without further ado, Ying dares to leap to the side as her opponent tries to use an awkward air jump to use its rounded feet to scratch.

“Shouldn’t you be helping your Pokémon?” Louder than before, I address the boy, but he merely shrugs.

“When you saw Bonsly, you looked like you knew about the Pokémon. Now, however, it turns out you don’t know the first thing.”

I can’t deny it. All I know is that Bonsly is a Rock-type. Everything else has completely escaped me – not least because I don’t have time to deal with Pokémon in my father’s surroundings. The lack of knowledge heightens the issue and yet, with everything in front of me, I can’t be bothered by a crying Bonsly.

Its trainer is probably not a tiny monster, so I just assume that this reaction is part of the Pokémon. I can sort out everything else after the fight.

“Zorua, we can’t let this intimidate us. Just think of its tears as an attack. It wants to make you careless.”

Briefly, Ying’s gaze wanders in my direction before she shares determination with me. Meanwhile, I’m going over her attacks in my head. Normal attacks won’t work, so I have to limit myself to the bit that clings to the Dark-type.

“Pursuit!”

Snorting, Zorua lowers her head and waits for the right moment when the Bonsly comes running towards her again. Then she, too, takes off running. With a great leap, Ying places herself right in front of her opponent, who is already lunging with its upper body for a headbutt. Then she jets upwards with a leap so fast that it seems only her shadow is left behind. Bonsly’s head spins forward into nothing and just as it regains upright footing, Ying spins in the air for a powerful kick with her hind paw.

If we can’t scare Bonsly, then we have to treat it like a bowling ball. And in those seconds, it actually stumbles back to hit its head on the wall of the house. But it hardly notices any of this. It just swings back into place as if nothing had ever happened and we both know that a break could work to our disadvantage.

So Ying keeps the ball rolling.

“The order stands, Bonsly. Copy your opponent until they no longer stand!” Once again the boy gives his will to his Pokémon and even as Ying leaps towards the Bonsly – ready to ram it with all her might – it dares to leap into the air. It’s different from the first time. More gallant, almost unbelievable for a flowerpot. But it happens and Zorua’s attack misses. Instead, she raises her head at the right moment to catch a fierce kick from Bonsly. Its rounded feet thunder against Ying’s nose and the yowling sound as she’s yanked backwards, head first, makes me wince.

She doesn’t slam on the ground, catches herself half in flight and lands gingerly on all fours. But before she even raises her head, blood drops to the ground.

“Ying!” I want to run to her, want to take her in my arms and care. But Ying immediately lifts her eyes and looks at me as if I don’t trust her enough. Blood runs down her nose, dripping straight in front of her paws. Yet she doesn’t want to give up.

She is still on her feet.

I have no choice but to show calm and prove that we can do this.

I raise my hand, my gaze firmly locked with Zorua’s, and as I catch my breath, the certainty in me increases. “Counter with everything you’ve got!”

Ying’s demonstrative snort presses a few last little red marks to the ground before she turns her attention to Bonsly once more. Her posture is wary, her tail fluffy and stiff, and her red paws seem fixed. Just for a moment, the Bonsly wiggles indecisively, its trainer calling for it to end it.

“Bonsly, the same again!”

But instead of Bonsly, Ying sprints off. She doesn’t give her opponent time to adjust or come up with a plan. Instead, she chases Bonsly with two powerful leaps and lashes out with her paw so fiercely that I hold my breath.

In the next instant, she smashes her claws into Bonsly’s face. It spins around so that my Zorua can land, and no sooner does it look at Ying again than she jumps violently, with full body contact, against the Pokémon.

It stumbles back, still on its tiny feet. But it doesn’t get to dodge as Zorua is already hanging in the air above it, sending both of her powerful hind legs thundering against Bonsly’s body.

The result sweeps her opponent off its feet for the first time, and as soon as it lies on its back, it no longer moves. The fight has strained it at least as much as Ying, and defeat seems more welcome to it than getting up.

“Such bad luck...” With a sigh, my opponent sends his Bonsly back into its Poké Ball before turning to me. “Didn’t think you and your Zorua could stand up to it.”

In a few steps, he bridges the gap before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small cloth. “Heard you can’t use any aids. But a simple handkerchief for your Zorua won’t be a problem.”

“Thanks!” It’s actually something to be happy about. Instantly, I fall to my knees and turn my attention to Ying, who is brushing around my legs.

The blood on her nose has already dried, and it takes some saliva to get it clean. But Zorua looks almost as good as new afterwards.

“And regarding my Bonsly ... it has to regulate its water balance. If it has too much water in it, it cries to make up for it. That’s also the case when it sweats.” Averting his eyes, the boy scratches the back of his head. “So you ... don’t have to worry about it feeling bad.”

I nod at him. It’s the only thing that doesn’t seem out of place in those seconds as he adjusts his clothes and makes his way out.

Zorua and I stay behind.

We have defeated two out of four trainers. That’s halfway to freedom. But Zorua is pretty battered, and no matter how much I want to trust her, it’s getting harder and harder to believe we can do it.

The meaning of these battles is becoming more and more unclear. It’s a tough world out there. Very few people will abide by any rules. What Zorua and I have to learn has little to do with simple fighting. We must learn to survive. By whatever means we can find, rather than pennilessly proving that brute force works too.

Pursing my lips, I take a deep breath. I can think of better things to do in this place than to develop the naïve fantasy that this is how we would cope out there. Far from the safety of four walls, Zorua can rely on me. If I have to get involved, I get involved. A very simple rule.

“But that won’t get us anywhere here...” Another sigh comes over me as I stroke Zorua’s velvety soft fur.

Foremost, I must meet my father’s requirement. Everything else comes after that. It doesn’t matter what it’s like out there if I can’t get a taste of it. I have to take it one step at a time. With Ying. And our next hurdle is in the third trainer, who is hiding somewhere in this school.