Chapter 11: A Tether
POV – ???
The courtyard of the Master Dojo was buzzing with anticipation as the trainers gathered for the unexpected battle. Ciara, standing slightly apart with her Kubfu at her side, watched the newcomer, with a mix of curiosity and scepticism. Her dark ponytail swayed gently in the sea breeze, amber eyes sharp and assessing.
The dojo, with its striking yellow roof and sturdy wooden pillars, stood as a silent observer to the scene unfolding in its shadow. The sound of the sea in the distance mingled with the excited murmurs of the gathering crowd. The air was filled with the salty tang of the sea, blending with the earthy scent of the training grounds.
Beside her, Jab, his bright blue hair almost as lively as his personality, leaned back with a relaxed grin, arms crossed. "He doesn't stand a chance against Master Mustard," he remarked, confidence in his voice.
Next to him, Bab, with fiery red hair contrasting vividly against his cousin, laughed and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the old man's gonna school him for sure," he said cheerfully.
Siobhan, her bright orange hair catching the sunlight, watched the boy with her usual smile playing on her lips. "It'll be fun to see what he can do, though," she said, light and optimistic.
Ciara remained silent, her amber gaze unwavering as it fixed on the newcomer and Master Mustard, now facing each other. She respected Mustard immensely and found it hard to imagine this outsider posing any real challenge. This should be over quickly.
“I don’t recognise him at all, any guesses where he's from?" Siobhan asked, tilting her head slightly, bright green eyes curious.
Ciara shrugged, her eyes never leaving the battlefield. "Who knows? But he doesn't seem like the usual type we get around here."
"Definitely not from Applinby, that's for sure," Jab chimed in, his bright blue hair catching the light as he shook his head. "We know pretty much everyone in town, and he's a new face."
Bab, scratching his fiery red hair, added thoughtfully, "Yeah, and it's not often we get outsiders, especially ones around our age. This is a small place, you know."
Ciara nodded slightly, still watching intently. "And it was Master Mustard who challenged him, not the other way around."
Jab leaned in, loud and teasing. "Maybe Master Mustard’s getting tired of thrashing us all. Needed some new blood to keep things interesting!" He chuckled.
Bab, his eyes locked on the trainers in the battlefield, chimed in with curiosity, "I wonder what Pokémon he's packing. Looks like he’s got another Pokéball ready."
Siobhan, her eyes on the sky squirrel said, "His Emolga is adorable, though. You don't see many of those around here."
Ciara’s gaze momentarily shifted from the battle, adding. "They're more common in Unova. But I lived in the city and never got out much, so I’ve never seen one either."
Jab nudged Bab, grinning. "Cute, yeah, but not exactly a powerhouse. Looks pretty young, too."
Bab raised an eyebrow, not missing a beat. "Says the guy with a Squirtle. Not exactly standing on a Gyarados, are we?"
Siobhan giggled lightly. "He's got you there, Jab. Squirtle’s cute, but I’m pretty sure an Emolga would give him a run for his money."
Jab, not missing a beat, retorted with a smirk, "Ah, but looks can be deceiving. My Squirtle's got more spunk than he lets on. It's all about strategy."
Siobhan, her eyes twinkling, leaned towards Jab, "Speaking of strategy, have you actually won a battle yet, Jab? Or are you still 'rehearsing' for your big debut?"
Jab hesitated for a split second, confidence faltering slightly. Then, recovering, he replied with a grin, "Just you wait. When I get serious, I'll be unstoppable. It's all part of the master plan."
Ciara interjected. "A plan that's going to take forever to execute, by the looks of it."
Jab's smile wavered, but he maintained his bravado, "Just building the suspense, that's all."
Bab chuckled, patting Jab on the back, "Yeah, the suspense of whether you'll ever get serious."
From Ciara's practiced eyes, the battlefield was a familiar sight, a stage she had seen countless times before. In the Master Dojo's courtyard, several dedicated spaces were laid out for training and battles, each marked by clearly defined boundaries. Today, Mustard and the newcomer, were positioned in one of these designated areas, a space Ciara recognised as reserved for more formal or significant battles.
As Mustard and the newcomer assumed their positions, the usual chatter of the crowd hushed, the sea breeze seemingly carrying the tension. Mustard stood with a relaxed posture; demeanour casual yet confident. Ciara knew that Mustard's relaxed appearance belied the experience he possessed, experience that had been imparted to her and the other students of the dojo
The newcomer seemed a bit nervous but determined. Ciara observed him: a mop of dusty blonde hair tousled by the breeze, grey-green eyes that hinted at unspoken resolve. His Emolga, perched confidently on his shoulder, seemed to echo his readiness, bright eyes surveying the surroundings with keen interest.
"Alright, kid, since you’ve got two Pokémon, we’ll make this a two-on-two battle. Casual rules," Mustard’s voice rang out clearly, cutting through the noise around them.
"Master Mustard, my name is Jake," the newcomer replied, putting a name to his face for the first time. Then, with a hint of uncertainty, he added, "And could you explain what you mean by casual rules?"
Mustard raised an eyebrow at Jake's question, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually composed features. "Ah, I see. Casual rules, lad. In formal tournament battles, there’s a bit of an etiquette—you’ve got to register your moves beforehand, and there are restrictions on what you can use. But in a casual match like this, you’re free to use any moves your Pokémon knows. No limitations. Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?"
Ciara's eyes narrowed slightly; a bit surprised. Knowledge of battle formats was common knowledge among trainers. The fact that Jake was unfamiliar with such a basic concept of Pokémon battles was a bit puzzling.
Jake's eyes widened at Mustard's explanation, the realisation dawning on him. "I see, that makes sense. Thanks for explaining," he said.
Mustard, seemingly satisfied with Jake's response, nodded. "Very well, Jake. Let's see what you and your Pokémon can do," he said, his tone shifting to one of anticipation.
Ciara glanced down to her side, where Kaida stood. The small Kubfu, with its distinctive grey fur and curious black-and-white face that resembled a bear cub in training, mirrored Ciara's focus. Kaida's eyes, sharp and observant, reflected a keen intelligence, while her small, sturdy frame spoke of untapped martial prowess. Her arms, previously crossed in discipline, now unfolded as she prepared to observe the battle.
"Keep your eyes sharp, Kaida. Watch their moves, understand the rhythm," Ciara murmured, her voice steady, blending affection with guidance. "Think about how you'd counter, how you'd strike."
Kaida, nodded with a resolute "Fu, Fu." She clenched her tiny fists, a symbol of her budding determination. In a swift, almost ceremonial gesture, Kaida reached up and tugged at the single white tuft of fur atop her head, an action that seemed to heighten her fighting spirit, readying herself to absorb every lesson the battle might offer.
"Let’s see what he’s got," Ciara murmured, more to herself than anyone else. Kaida, catching the intent, nodded again, her eyes fixed on the field, ready to witness the unfolding battle.
Ciara watched as Mustard released his Mienfoo, a Pokémon known for its fluid, martial arts-like movements. The Mienfoo stood calm and composed, one leg raised, arms positioned in a ready stance like a seasoned martial artist. Its sleek cream and red fur rippled with barely contained energy, muscles tensed and poised for action.
Jake leaned in, whispering to his Emolga. The small Pokémon, with its sleek black and white fur and undeniably cute appearance, listened intently. Its large, round ears twitched, and the yellow membrane of its wings fluttered slightly in anticipation. Ciara noted the glint of determination in the Emolga’s black eyes as it nodded. At least they seem in sync, she observed.
Siobhan, assuming the role of referee, announced clearly, "Battle start!" In response, the Emolga launched itself from Jake's shoulder. Wings unfurled, revealing the striking yellow patterning against the black, it soared close to the ground. he Pokémon's agility was remarkable, its flight so swift and low that it took everyone by surprise.
"Wow, look at that speed!" Jab exclaimed; his eyes wide with surprise.
Bab whistled, "That Emolga's like lightning!"
Jake's voice cut through the tension, "Quick Attack, now!" The Emolga responded instantly, its body becoming a blur. It darted towards the Mienfoo at intense speed, cutting across the battlefield like a streak of lightning. The rapid movement created a gust of wind, stirring up dust in its path.
"Follow with Tail Whip!" Jake's next command came swiftly. The Emolga spun in mid-air, tail, a streak of white and black, aimed to strike the Mienfoo off balance, to disrupt its poised stance.
But Mustard remained calm. "Quick Guard," he instructed. The Mienfoo reacted with remarkable speed, shifting its stance to a defensive posture. It raised its arms, forming a barrier just in time to intercept Emolga's tail. The impact absorbed with ease, the Mienfoo's stance remaining firm and unshaken, showcasing its disciplined training and reflexes.
"Time to counter, Vital Throw!" Mustard's command was sharp, echoing with authority. In a fluid and devastatingly quick motion, the Mienfoo sprang into action. It seized the precise moment when Emolga came within reach, capturing the surprised Pokémon by its tail with an unyielding grip.
With practiced movement, the Mienfoo pivoted, channelling its strength into a throw. It spun, using its own body as a fulcrum, and with ruthless efficiency, flung the Emolga over its shoulder. The Emolga was propelled through the air, the force of the throw sending it tumbling uncontrollably.
The small flying Pokémon hit the ground with a harsh impact, a cloud of dust erupting where it landed. The Emolga lay momentarily stunned, its body recoiling from the sheer brutality of the move. The Vital Throw, executed with such force, left the Emolga visibly dazed and disoriented, struggling to regain its bearings after.
Jab couldn't help but whistle. "Whoa, that's gotta hurt. Talk about a crash landing!"
Bab, leaning in added, "I mean, I knew Master Mustard was tough, but that was perfectly timed, and that execution? Amazing!"
Ciara winced. "That's Mustard's style—ruthless efficiency."
Siobhan's expression was concerned. "I hope it'll be alright. It's just a little thing."
Ciara glanced at Siobhan. "It’ll be fine. Mustard knows how to push without breaking." Yet, despite her words, Ciara kept a close eye on the Emolga, waiting to see if it could recover.
Jake, shocked by the power of the move, voiced an urgent, "Thundershock, now!" From its position on the ground, the small Pokémon mustered its strength. A sudden, intense electrical charge built up around it, crackling with raw energy. In a split second, a surge of electricity, brighter and more powerful than anyone expected from such a small creature, shot towards the Mienfoo.
Mustard issued a sharp response. "Detect!" The Mienfoo seemed to focus inward, becoming alert, eyes narrowing, honing in on the impending attack. It began to move with a fluidity and speed that were almost pre-emptive, each movement calculated to evade the oncoming assault. It was like watching a dance, each step and shift perfectly timed to avoid the electrical surges.
As the Thundershock missed its intended target, it struck the ground with such force that it caused a subtle tremor, a vibration that resonated through the courtyard floor. The sharp crackle of electric energy rang in everyone's ears, a piercing reminder of the Thundershock's raw power. The sheer magnitude of the move, even though it missed, left the spectators momentarily stunned.
"Whoa, are you sure that wasn't a Thunder attack?!" Jab yelled with excitement and disbelief.
Bab added, "That Emolga's got some serious juice!"
Ciara, still observing closely, noted the unexpected potency in the Emolga's attack. Despite its dazed condition, it had managed to shake the very ground. Raw power without control… but still, that’s no small feat.
Mustard wasted no time, his voice carrying an edge of command, "Fake Out!" In a blur of movement, the Mienfoo lunged forward, paw extending in a rapid, deceptive strike towards the Emolga. The move, perfectly timed, caught the already dazed Emolga off guard, causing it to flinch instinctively, immobilised by the sudden feint.
Before the Emolga could recover, Mustard issued his next command, "Fury Swipes, finish it!" Voice relentless, ruthless. Mienfoo, with lightning-fast reflexes, launched a barrage of strikes. Its paws became a whirlwind of motion, each swipe delivering a precise, powerful blow. The strikes rained down on the stunned Emolga, one after another.
The Emolga, overwhelmed by the ferocity of the attack, could do nothing but endure. With each successive swipe from the Mienfoo, its small body jerked under the impact, the strikes too fast and too numerous to counter. The Emolga's struggle gradually weakened, its movements slowing, until finally, it lay motionless on the ground, appearing to have passed out under the intensity of the Mienfoo's assault.
Siobhan frowned slightly, her green eyes reflecting worry. "Isn't he going too far? That Emolga looks... it's just a bit much, isn't it?"
Ciara, her gaze steely watched on. She glanced down at Kaida, who was observing with a hint of worry in her eyes. "This is a real Pokémon battle, Kaida," Ciara said firmly. "This is what we need to be prepared for. It's tough, but we should watch and learn so this does not happen to us.”
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Kaida looked up at Ciara, a determined glint forming in her eyes as she nodded, absorbing the reality of what a Pokémon battle could entail.
Jake's voice, filled with distress and anger, rang out across the battlefield. "That's enough, I surrender!" His face showed deep concern for his Pokémon.
He sprinted across the battlefield; face etched with worry. Reaching the Emolga, he dropped to his knees, cradling the small Pokémon in his arms. "Trixie!" he cried out, voice breaking a little with emotion. His hands trembled as he gently lifted her, inspecting her for injuries with dread and care.
For a moment, his expression went blank. Eyes, that had seemed warm and kind, started to bear a cold, hard edge, a brief glare at Mustard before returning his focus to Trixie.
Ciara felt a complicated mix of emotions at the sight. While she didn't have too much sympathy for Jake's distress, this was part and parcel of a Pokemon battle, after all. She could acknowledge the strength of his bond with Trixie. His immediate decision to surrender, prioritising her wellbeing, was a commendable act in her eyes. It spoke of a trainer who genuinely cared for his Pokémon, a quality she could respect.
"Good call," she muttered under her breath, a nod of approval barely perceptible. In the dojo, the line between training and pushing too far was often blurred, and recognising that line was crucial.
Jab whistled, "Tough break for the new guy."
"Yeah, but he's got guts," Bab added, nodding in agreement.
Mustard's methods were tough, but they forged strong trainers and Pokémon.
"You had some good ideas there, kid," Mustard declared, acknowledging Jake’s effort. "This was your first real battle, wasn’t it?"
Jake, still kneeling beside Trixie, gave a slow nod, his gaze icy and distant.
Mustard continued. "Choosing this path, lad, is no small decision. Many aspire to it, but only a rare few have the true grit it takes." He paused, letting his words settle. "It’s important to understand that early on. Not many do, and too often, those dreams are shattered when the harsh reality of this journey comes knocking."
Jake's eyes closed briefly, as if processing Mustard's words. He rose steadily, gently returning Trixie to her Pokéball with a careful, almost reverent motion. Stepping back into his position on the battlefield, calm yet with a subtle intensity.
Mustard, observing him. "Ready to go on?"
A faint, almost haunting smile crossed Jake’s lips as he nodded, his voice cold yet resolute. "The question is, are you?" he replied, a chilly undertone contrasting sharply with his smile.
Ciara looked at the other Pokeball now in Jake’s hand curiously. What made him so confident? It was no exaggeration to say that Mustard had completely wiped the floor with him so far.
Jab couldn’t help but chuckle. "Look at him, trying to play it all cool and mysterious. What’s he hiding?"
Bab grinned broadly. "Yeah, like he’s got a shot. He couldn’t even handle the Master’s junior team—though none of us can, either!"
Ciara remained silent, ignoring their chatter. They don’t see it, she thought, her attention focused on Jake. There was something different now, a shift in the air that Jab and Bab were too preoccupied to notice.
Siobhan, watching Jake with concern and curiosity, spoke gently. "Well, good luck to him. He’s going to need it after that last round."
Mustard, ever calm and collected, simply said with a serene smile, "Alright then, let's see what you've got next. Send out your next Pokémon."
Jake took a deep breath, his gaze locked onto the Poké Ball in his hand. With a decisive movement, he released his next Pokémon. To the surprise of everyone watching, a Pikachu materialised on the field.
Jab burst out laughing. "A Pikachu? Oh, this is going to be quick!"
Bab, equally amused, added, "Right? He looked so serious, and then out pops Pikachu. Guess we'll be in time for lunch for once!"
Siobhan murmured softly, "That's unexpected."
Ciara, initially sharing the surprise, leaned forward slightly, scrutinising the Pikachu more closely. Something’s off, she thought, sharp eyes narrowing. This Pikachu looked different from any she had seen before. It was… unsettling. What is this?
As she observed intently, the Pikachu slowly turned its head towards her as if sensing her gaze, ears unnaturally still in the breeze, empty gaze meeting hers. In that moment, the sound of the sea, the feel of the wind, the idle chatter of her classmates, all seemed to fade as she felt a wave of what could only be described as malice, seeping the very air almost tangibly, a rush of darkness, unlike anything she had ever felt from a Pokémon. A chill went down her spine, at this and she could not help but take a step back.
“Fu... Fu...!” Ciara felt a furry paw at the back of her leg and looked down, shocked to see that Kaida was hiding behind her. The little Pokémon was shying away, hiding behind Ciara with fearful whines. Kubfu, known for their stoic and dedicated nature, rarely showed signs of fear or hesitation, and that could definitely be said of Kaida, young though she was. If Kaida is reacting like this... Ciara’s thoughts trailed off, a sense of dread creeping in. She placed a reassuring hand on her Pokémon, though her own unease was hard to suppress.
Ciara, her usual confidence momentarily wavering, turned to Mustard. "Is that really a Pikachu?" Her voice carried an unusual note of uncertainty. It was a sensation she disliked intensely, feeling out of her depth.
Mustard, observing the Pikachu with a calculating gaze, seemed to ponder for a moment. His Mienfoo was a disciplined fighter, easily returned to its martial arts stance, indifferent to the Pokémon before it. This steadiness from the Mienfoo offered Ciara a slight sense of reassurance.
"Hmm," Mustard murmured, his tone thoughtful, "I haven't laid eyes on one of those in... oh, it must be forty years now, back when I was just a young whippersnapper." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, curiosity and caution mingling in his expression. "A rare sight indeed, and to think you have one so young..." He trailed off, momentarily lost in his thoughts.
Then, with a sudden straightening of his posture, determination flashed in Mustard's eyes. "Well, well, rare or not, it certainly makes for an intriguing challenge." His voice took on a respectful tone. "Let’s see what it’s got. Let’s battle!" he announced with excitement.
As Siobhan prepared to announce the next round, Jab leaned in with a playful smirk. "So, round two with the mysterious Pikachu? This should be good!"
Bab chuckled, adding, "Mysterious, huh? Let’s see if it’s got more tricks up its sleeve than your run-of-the-mill Pikachu!"
Siobhan raised her hand for silence. "Round two! Battle start!"
POV – JAKE
As Jake stood on the battlefield, gaze lingering on the spot where Trixie had been defeated, a storm of emotions raged within him. Anger, confusion, and cold realisation clawed at his thoughts. He had never felt this furious before. Was it at Mustard, who had so ruthlessly demonstrated the reality of Pokémon battles, or at himself for his naivety? Watching Trixie, his loyal and adorable partner, suffer like that had been excruciating. A bitter pill of helplessness, a spectator's horror that the games never quite managed to convey.
The games. Oh, how different they were. In the digital world, everything was clear-cut, simpler. Pokémon battles were challenges to be won with strategy and skill, but they lacked the visceral impact, the emotional weight of real confrontation. Here, in a real Pokémon battle, stakes were tangible, consequences real. The pain wasn't just a decrease in hit points; it was visible in Trixie's eyes, felt in Jake's heart. He was faintly relived to have had this experience in front of Mustard, however and not the Scolipede. That would have been disastrous.
Mustard's words echoed in Jake's mind. "This was your first real battle, wasn't it?" The question had been rhetorical, but it carried the weight of a profound truth. Jake had dreamed to be a Pokémon trainer before coming to this world, idealising it through the lens of the games. But reality was a different beast.
It had seemed so straightforward: become the best, defeat everyone in your path, and your Pokémon would grow alongside you. But standing here, in the aftermath of a battle that was far from the sanitised versions of the games, he began to understand why so many opted out of this path.
In the games, there were plenty of non-trainer NPCs, people who chose lives away from Pokémon. As a player, it had always seemed like an odd choice. Why wouldn’t everyone want to grow and strengthen their Pokémon? I mean, it was so easy, right? Pick a starter, a few tough initial battles, and you were off. But now, it was becoming clear. Not everyone could handle the reality of it. Seeing your Pokémon, your best friend, get hurt. Pokémon were supposed to enjoy this, and Jake understood that they were resilient. But still, the strain, the pain, the responsibility—it was a lot to bear.
As Jake released Jekyll, a torrent of emotions surged through him—fury and upset over Trixie. He took a deep, steadying breath, his resolve hardening. This round, he silently vowed, would be different.
The moment Jekyll materialised; the Pokémon seemed to instantly tune into Jake's emotional state. Mimikyu have particular affinity for emotions, especially the darker ones. For Jekyll it was both a blessing, endowing him with power, and a curse under the weight of absorbed misery.
“Mimi, Kyu?” Jekyll’s voice, reached out to Jake. The Pokémon's gaze, from the cut outs, seemed to pierce through to Jake's turmoil. There was a sense of kinship in that look, Mimikyu knew of pain.
Jake managed a weak smile, acknowledging the bond they shared. But now, as Jekyll turned towards Mustard's Mienfoo, there was a shift. No clumsy Pikachu acts. No awkward impersonations. Mimikyu in its truest form – raw, unfiltered, and dangerous.
The air around them seemed to thicken with anticipation. Jekyll's stance carried a sense of menace, a promise of retribution. This was a Pokémon that knew suffering and was all the more formidable for it.
Mustard didn't hesitate. "Mienfoo, Force Palm!" His voice rang out. The Mienfoo, responding with the precision of an extremely well-trained Pokémon, sprang into action. Propelling itself from its crane stance, closing the distance between itself and Jekyll in a heartbeat.
As the Mienfoo lunged, its palm began to radiate with bright, pulsating energy, gathering the force of its attack. The air around its palm crackled with concentrated power. With a swift, fluid motion that spoke of both agility and strength, the Mienfoo thrust its glowing palm forward, aiming a direct, forceful blow at Jekyll.
Jake quietly instructed, "Let it hit." He watched with almost detached curiosity as the glowing palm made contact, passing harmlessly through Jekyll's ghostly form.
A flicker of surprise crossed Jake's face as he realised that even Mustard, a former league champion, appeared unaware of Mimikyu's Ghost typing. Knowledge of Pokémon is so varied here, Jake mused internally. Even champions might not know every mystery.
Mustard, meanwhile, displayed a moment of shock, his seasoned features betraying a rare instance of surprise. "Incredible... a Ghost-type," he murmured, almost to himself. The revelation seemed to add a new layer of complexity to his strategy, acknowledging a gap in his understanding. "I had no idea," he admitted.
Jake's voice rang out, clear and decisive: "Copycat, Jekyll!"
In response, Jekyll's form shifted. For a fleeting moment, its true nature was partially revealed; a ghostly hand, unnerving and spectral, emerged swiftly from beneath the cloak of its costume. The hand, ethereal yet somehow tangible, glowed with a pale, otherworldly light as it replicated the Force Palm attack.
The movement was startlingly quick, almost a blur to the onlookers. The ghostly hand shot forward with a speed and precision that belied Mimikyu's somewhat clumsy appearance. It struck the Mienfoo with a force that resonated throughout the dojo, the impact echoing with the intensity of Jake's pent-up fury.
The Mienfoo reeled from the hit, clearly caught off guard by the sudden strike. The trainers and spectators alike barely had time to process the swift action before its effects became evident—the Mienfoo was struggling to regain its composure, visibly shaken by the force of Jekyll's attack.
A blue-headed trainer's voice cut through the surprise, "Did you see that? What happened?"
The red-haired lookalike, eyes wide, added, "I'm not sure! Was that an attack?"
The Force Palm from Jekyll seemed to have left the Mienfoo immobilised, its body rigid from the unexpected blow. Sensing the opportunity, Jake issued his next command with urgency, "Shadow Sneak now!"
The shadow beneath Jekyll, an inky blackness against the dojo's floor, began to behave unnaturally. Jekyll's form seamlessly merged into this shadow, becoming one with the dark silhouette.
The merged shadow slithered across the floor, moving with eerie, purposeful intent towards the Mienfoo. Silent and almost imperceptible, it snaked its way forward, carrying Jekyll within its dark embrace.
Then, in a sudden movement, Jekyll emerged from the shadow directly behind the Mienfoo. One moment, Jekyll was part of the shadow; the next, it was striking the Mienfoo from behind with ghostly force. The Mienfoo was caught completely off guard, its body jolting forward from the impact.
The trainers around the dojo, witnessing this unconventional move, were taken aback. The use of shadows as a medium for attack was a tactic, they were unaccustomed to, particularly in a dojo where Fighting-types were the norm.
Mustard frowned but seemed to realise the futility of the situation. His Mienfoo, despite its excellent training and strength, simply had no answers to a ghost-type. With a resigned sigh, he addressed Jake, "I concede this round to you. There's nothing more we can do here."
Jake, still simmering with cold, controlled rage, gave a curt nod in acknowledgment. His gaze briefly met Mustard's before he turned to Jekyll. "Come back, Jekyll," he commanded, his voice still carrying an edge of anger.
Jekyll, however, seemed reluctant to leave the battlefield. Its gaze locked onto the Mienfoo, its empty eye sockets conveying an intense, almost palpable hatred. "Kyu..." it hissed menacingly; its stance stiff with animosity.
The Mienfoo, visibly shaken by the encounter, backed away with a fearful "Foo..." Its usual martial poise was gone, replaced by genuine terror.
After a tense moment, Jekyll slowly, almost begrudgingly, began to return to Jake. As it moved, it kept its gaze fixed on the Mienfoo, its disdain evident in each slow step. "Mimi, Kyu..." it muttered, a final warning or perhaps a promise of unfinished business.
Mustard carefully returned his Mienfoo to its Pokéball, his expression tinged with concern, perhaps contemplating the Pokémon's mental state after such an unsettling encounter. He then looked towards Jake, a thoughtful expression in his eyes.
"I've got one more Pokémon, a young Shinx," Mustard began with a hint of regret. "But the poor little thing is still too green. Putting it up against something like Jekyll... well, it’d do more harm than good. Might even leave the wee one shaken rather than teach it anything useful." He paused, thoughtfully. "I've have a few more seasoned Pokémon, but even then, it wouldn’t be a fair fight. The young ones, they need to grow at their own pace, without the weight of an uneven match hanging over them."
Mustard paused again; his words deliberate. "You see, Jake, understanding Pokémon, knowing when they’re ready and when they’re not—that’s a big part of being a good trainer. Sometimes, they don’t know their own limits, and it falls to us to guide them, to help them see what they’re ready for." His gaze was firm. "So, with that in mind, I concede this match to you, Jake. You've earned this victory, fair and square."
A stunned silence settled over the dojo courtyard. None of the other trainers had expected this.
Jake, anger at the old man diminished a little as he absorbed Mustard's words, replaced with a respect for the former champion. Mustard's approach to battling, his concern for his Pokémon's well-being over the desire for victory, resonated deeply with him, especially after what had happened with Trixie.
"Thank you, Mustard," Jake said sincerely. "I've learned a lot from this battle, about myself and my Pokémon."
Jake crouched down beside his Mimikyu, carefully adjusting the Pikachu disguise, straightening the ragged edges with a gentle touch. "You did more than great, Jekyll," he said warmly. "You were amazing out there."
The air of hostility melted away, revealing the shy, clumsy nature that lay underneath. Jekyll slumped slightly, tilting its head bashfully to one side, fidgeting cutely. "Kyu?" Jekyll asked gently, curiously. I did good?
Jake fussed over the disguise, making sure it sat just right. "You really looked after your sister today," he said, a smile in his voice. "You should be proud of yourself."
At the mention of "sister," Jekyll stiffened, unsure how to react to a sibling.
Jake chuckled at Jekyll's reaction. "Yeah, that's right, you're a big brother now," he teased lightly, Jekyll helping to restore his mood.
"Kyu!?" Jekyll exclaimed, still trying to make sense of the unfamiliar family dynamic.
Before Jekyll could protest, Jake gently wrapped his arms around the Mimikyu in a warm hug. "Thanks for everything, buddy," he whispered. After a moment, he carefully returned Jekyll to his Pokéball, ensuring his Pokémon would have a well-deserved rest.
As Jake pocketed the Pokéball, he reflected on the battle. The victory felt hollow, the memory of Trixie's ordeal weighing heavily on him.
Jake heard footsteps and looked up to see Mustard watching him with a thoughtful expression. "Ah, Jake, you've got something special in you," Mustard said, his voice warm. "The bond you share with Jekyll—it speaks volumes, my boy. Those Pokémon are extremely rare, not many folks know much about them, and they’re tricky little things to find, let alone bond with. But it’s not just about Jekyll, is it? The way you care for your Emolga too… Well, it’s plain as day that you’ve got a genuine concern for all your Pokémon. That’s a rare gift, lad, and one worth more than gold. Truly commendable."
Mustard continued, his gaze turning sombre as he spoke. "Now, about what happened with Trixie... I know it's tough, lad. Believe me, I've walked that road myself. But it's all part of the journey, you see. Pokémon battles can be rough at times, but they're some of the best teachers out there. Take this moment and let it help you grow—both as a trainer and as a partner to your Pokémon."
He paused, then chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with warmth. "Ah, but remember, my boy, Pokémon are a tough bunch, make no mistake! Even when they’re down, more often than not, they’re having the time of their lives. Some folks don’t quite understand that, but Pokémon—they’re sharp. If they don’t want to battle, they simply won’t, and there’s not much we can do to change that."
Mustard gave a knowing nod. “You’ve built a deep connection with your Pokémon, Jake. That’s what makes a trainer truly great—more than any number of victories. It’s about that bond, that understanding. Keep that close to your heart, lad.”
If the battle had not done it, this definitely had Jake reassess his impression of Mustard formed from the games. Standing before him was a man of genuine depth and wisdom. 'He's so much more than I expected,' Jake thought to himself. 'No wonder he was a league champion. His love for Pokémon, it's not just about battling... it's deeper. He really understands them, cares for them.' Feeling a new level of respect for the old man.
Mustard’s face then broke into a warm smile. “How about we head inside and get your Pokémon healed up, eh? Then, join us for lunch? You must be starving after all that.”
At the mention of food, Jake realised just how hungry he was. His stomach growling on cue.
Mustard laughed heartily. “Ah, I always find myself famished after a good battle too! Come on, lad, let’s get some food and fill those bellies!”