I already regret letting Lucas tag along.

It was all sunshine and rainbows during the rest of the trip to Jubilife. All his earlier predictions had come true. While we were cooking for more people than we would if we both went it alone, it's much easier to buy in bulk than for one person. The same goes for medical supplies and Pokéballs, since Lucas, with his respectable lab salary, especially considering he was an intern, was very well stocked with all the essentials needed for the road. Charmander and Chimchar's sparring sessions have proved to be extremely beneficial as well, with both Pokémon learning Ember during the same battle session.

Lucas even provided a bit of entertainment, since every single day seemingly brought another hilariously miserable attempt at catching a Pokémon. Forget catching a Pokémon; I'd be surprised if the dude could catch a cold, at this point.

In his defense, some of the attempts were ridiculously unlucky. He almost caught a Cascoon, only for it to break free at the last second and evolve into a Dustox. Reasoning that the Bug-type was still weakened even though it had evolved, Lucas threw another Pokéball, only for the Dustox to reveal that it had learned Gust upon evolution, and the Moth Pokémon wasted no time in using its new Flying-type move to send the ball in the opposite direction and taking the opportunity to fly away. Unfortunately, sometimes our misadventures were far more dangerous than they were amusing; in his attempts to track down a wild Spinarak, Lucas got caught in a massive web made by the Spider Pokémon's much larger evolution, and Charmander and Glaceon had to fight off the offending Ariados before it turned the lab assistant into dinner for a month.

Now that we were in Jubilife though, Lucas's true colors have been revealed.

I'm not sure if wearing a scarf cuts off circulation to your brain, but Lucas insisted that, as new adventurers, taking some classes at the trainer school would be good for us. Of course, I couldn't exactly protest, considering I had precisely zero gym badges, and hadn't caught any Pokémon, with both of them having been given to me.

"It'll be a great learning experience!"

Yeah, right. School sucks regardless of how many times I'm forced to endure it. The sad part is, there are probably hundreds of different Pokémon subjects that would be super interesting, like Pokémon Biology, Pokémon Growth and Development, or even the history of the relationship between Pokémon and people. But instead, I'm stuck in Pokémon Basics 101 with a bunch of brats, sitting through an absurdly boring "I'd rather watch paint dry" type of lecture, about Pokémon types and how they match up against each other, which was simply one of many similar sessions that I have endured on this day, including potential status effects, and proper Pokémon catching technique. Gary Oak taught me that Fire beats Grass and loses to Water. I don't want to waste eight hours of my life relearning this.

I wake up with a start, knocking my borrowed textbook to the floor, having dozed off and jerked my arm in an effort to catch my sleeping head before it landed painfully on the table. Of course, the sound of my textbook hitting the floor, and the creak of my chair as I go to retrieve it draws the attention of the whole class, including the ire of my teacher. I had hoped that sitting all the way in the back would let me muddle through without getting noticed, and while it had worked throughout the morning, the combination of the sheer boredom of the class and the food coma that I was undergoing after lunch made it impossible.

Said teacher was pretty much the absolute stereotype of a 1930's era, rules her classroom with an iron fist, disciplinarian of a woman. She looked as if she was born around then too, with her shriveled frame, wire glasses that sat too low on her long, hooked nose, and a severe bun of pure gray hair. Good thing too, since dealing with me would probably have turned it gray anyways. All she needed was a ruler that she should whack your hand with if you spelled something wrong and her look would be complete.

Of course, she can't get away with physically disciplining her students in modern times, but that doesn't mean she is about to let me sleep in her class. She puffs out her chest like some sort of bird trying to intimidate a rival, peering at me beneath her Xatu's beak of a nose. "Since you so obviously have an interest in the subject, perhaps you could inform the class of the answer to the question on the board."

For all the crazy advanced technology, like the Pokémon Center healing machines, and my infinite storage bag, some things could still be rather archaic. This classroom didn't even have a projector, with the teacher having to write things on a whiteboard instead. Thankfully, I don't have to wear glasses anymore, and I'm able to see the subject written in blue marker.

Fairy-Types in Sinnoh.

And written slightly under that. Six Evolutionary families?

"Er… you want me to give some examples of Fairy-Types native to Sinnoh?"

"Any minute now, if you please. Seeing as you think yourself above listening to my lecture," the teacher sniffs haughtily.

"Uh…"

Several of the other students started to snicker and chatter amongst themselves, no doubt eager to see me get embarrassed in front of everyone, a prime example of the vindictiveness of preteens and teenagers that seemed to carry over between worlds. But that wasn't why I was hesitating.

This whole native thing is still odd to me. Pokémon like Geodude, Zubat, and Tentacool can be found naturally in almost every region, including Sinnoh, which technically meant that they were native species. But they were all introduced in the first generation, in Kanto. I had a hard time trying to convince myself that they weren't native to that region.

Hence my issue here. Did Sinnoh have any Fairy-types actually from here? Most of them were retroactively given the typing once it was introduced, right?

My temporary teacher takes my minute of silence as an admission of ignorance. "Perhaps if you spent more time taking notes instead of dozing off, you could provide me with an example or two…"

"Wait!" I blurt out, earning me an acidic glare, though I press ahead with an answer. "Cynthia has a Togekiss right? That's a Fairy-type. Togepi and Togetic are too." Plus, Togekiss is a Pokémon introduced in Generation four. This has to be a right answer.

For a second I thought she would tell me no, those are all in fact Normal-types, and they originate from Johto, not Sinnoh. Instead, she looks as if she has bitten into a particularly sour lemon, but agrees with me, albeit very reluctantly. "Hmph. Well, I suspect anyone who has access to a television could provide that example. Can you list any others?"

Come on brain, think! Fairy, fairy. fairy. What kind of Pokémon were fairies?! Clefairy had it in the name. But it wasn't native to Sinnoh, was it? They could be found inside Mt. Coronet. I remember catching one and being surprised that it learned Meteor Mash.

"The Clefairy line?" I gamble, causing my teacher to stiffen further, though the old bag continues to make excuses about how that was such an obvious answer.

But my mind was starting to whir now, thinking of all the Pokémon I had used on my Sinnoh playthroughs. Admittedly, Luxray, Staraptor and Roserade were essentially guaranteed to be on team, which greatly reduced the variety of Pokémon I used, but everyone needed an HM slave, for all the obstacles, and to use Surf and Waterfall if you didn't pick Piplup. Most people used Bibarel, but I found that thing rather creepy looking, so instead I chose…

"Azumarill! The whole Marill line is Fairy-type as well."

Another Pokémon that I used all the time, except from a different game, springs to mind before the crone could reply. "Gardevoir too! Everything except Gallade is a Fairy in that evolutionary family."

I'm still missing something, some obscure Pokémon that I never bothered to use in any game. Probably some clown-tier mon that I had never bothered to use once in a playthrough. Wait, clown Pokémon?

Well, while it isn't based on a clown, it certainly looks like one. Though I'm sure the game designers meant no offense to mimes everywhere. "Mr. Mime and Mime Jr?" The crone can't even stand to nod now, but I can tell by her face that I was correct again.

Only one more evolutionary family to go. I go through the list of Pokémon I have used in the past again, trying to think of what it could be. When it hits me, I can't believe this is the last one I thought of. It's only the Fairy form of the Pokémon I have currently.

"And Sylveon. Eevee can evolve into Sylveon." Somehow. But that was a question for someone else to figure out.

I resist the urge to lean back in my chair and kick my feet up in triumph. Our teacher looks like she has seen a ghost, becoming paler and paler with each correct answer I had given, but color was rapidly returning back to her face, which was turning a very unflattering, tomato like shade of red. All the other students in the class muttered jeers and snide pointing have quieted down, instead looking at me with faces that ranged from surprise to admiration. Lucas is definitely on the surprise side of the spectrum. Even though he sits at the front of the class like a good teacher's pet, I can see his mouth slightly hanging open, as he looks between me and the paper he was writing on with a significant amount of confusion.

The gray-haired lady regains her wits before I can make too much out of Lucas's reaction, returning to her table to try and finish out the lecture. I try to pay attention to it, I really do, but I end up having to pinch myself periodically to try and not doze off as her voice drones on for another couple of hours. Finally, our teacher ducks behind her wooden desk to retrieve a stack of papers, splitting them into separate stacks and handing one to each row of students.

Is this our certificate for paying three-hundred bucks and sitting through a whole day of dreary lectures? Bemusedly, I look at the top of the page for my undeserved congratulations, instead finding two of the most dreaded words in my entire vocabulary.

----------------------------------------

Final Exam

Are you serious right now? Now I'm really going to expect something better than a participation certificate, if they're actually testing me on my knowledge. Glancing around, I see that everyone has already started to look over the questions and to mark down their answers, so I stretch out my arms and twist them until my elbows pop, and then press my hands together to crack as many knuckles as I can before I twirl my pencil and look down at the first question.

Which of these Pokémon is the move X-Scissor not very effective on? Parasect, Heracross, Crustle, or Galvantula?

I immediately cross out Parasect, since that thing is part-Grass, and after a moment of deliberation, Galvantula is crossed out as well. Electric shouldn't add any Bug resistance to a Bug-type. My eyes flicker between the last two. Hmm. Maybe I should have paid more attention to what the teacher was saying. It's gotta be Crustle, right? Rock is super-effective against Bug, so it would make sense that a Bug move wouldn't work well against Rock-Type Pokémon. Even if it was more like a hermit crab than an actual insect. I circle Crustle and move on to the next question.

What typings are Fairy-Type Pokémon weak to? Fire and Poison, Fire and Steel, Steel and Poison, or Dragon and Dark?

I almost choose Dragon and Dark, before I realize that it is asking what Fairies are weak too, not what types are weak to fairies, and hastily pick Steel and Poison instead. Steel I get, but I feel like the designers were throwing a bone to Poison-types by making them strong against Fairies, since they used to only be super-effective against Grass-types. While Poison was a decent defensive typing, why would anyone use an offensive Poison move when you could use a Fire, Flying or Ice-type one on a Grass-type instead?

If a Starly is eight feet in front of Jimmy, and perched on top of a six-foot-tall pole, how many feet does Jimmy have to throw his Pokéball in order to connect with it? 14, 10, 48, or 100?

Finally, I've found a use for the Pythagorean Theorem. Though I never in my wildest dreams thought it would be, of all places, in the Pokémon world. Eight squared is sixty-four, plus thirty-six equals one hundred. Trying to trick me by making a hundred one of the answers, I see. Sneaky, sneaky. I mark down ten and go on.

All in all, it isn't all that bad. Most of the questions are either math questions involving budgeting, for example calculating how many potions you can buy with a certain amount of money, or other questions about Pokémon types and how they match up. Despite sleeping through most of this class, I'm pretty sure I passed this thing. It would be super embarrassing had I not.

----------------------------------------

In typical fashion, I somehow managed to answer the first question wrong. Apparently, one of the best things you can send out against a Heracross is your own Heracross, because it resists its own STAB moves.

The only other question I marked wrong was about another type-weakness. Some Pokémon called Bewear, which is a Normal/Fighting-type, has a weakness to fire thanks to its special ability. I don't really understand it, because what kind of garbage special ability makes you randomly weak against a certain type? That almost sounds worse than Slaking with Truant and Archeops with Defeatist, but ok, I'll concede that I had no idea that it was weak against fire. Eighty percent got me a certificate of completion, but that wasn't why I've returned to the torture chamber barely an hour after the class had mercifully finished.

At first, I had thought nothing of the CD rom that Lucas had been given along with his certificate. It was probably some bonus learning content that I had absolutely no curiosity in, but my interest spiked immediately when he revealed that it was actually the Technical Machine, or TM for the move Work Up.

I knew there had to be more to this lame course than a simple certificate! I immediately did a 180-degree spin so I could march back to the Trainers' School and receive what was rightfully mine.

TM does stand for Technical Machine, but I think it could also be an acronym for training module. I always wondered why they looked like CDs in the game, considering that there was no way you could simply place your CD on your Pokémon and have them learn the move via osmosis or something, but in actuality, the CD makes perfect sense. Depending on the type of move learned, the video could last up to a couple of hours, but it had step by step instructions, with Pokémon and Human instructors, on how to use whatever move the TM was inscribed for. You could pause, rewind, and rewatch the video as much as you liked, but there was some technology that made the CD useless when you pulled it out of the computer when you were finished. But I wasn't really worried about having to pick and choose what Pokémon I used it on. I would imagine it would be fairly easy for one Electric-type that learned Thunderbolt to explain it to another.

Work Up was pretty simplistic, in all honesty. It was a bunch of activities that dramatically increased both heart rate and in turn your oxygen intake and consumption, to pump your muscles full of red blood cells. It didn't give you a massive power increase, that a move like Swords Dance or Nasty Plot would. But it did provide a decent spike in power, especially at this point, where the Pokémon weren't overwhelmingly strong.

Enough to the point that I wanted one. Yeah, I could probably ask Lucas for help, if one of my Pokémon had the ability to learn it, but there was always the resale value even if I never actually used the CD. Besides, it was a point of pride! Maybe I did sleep through the class, but I answered her question when she put me on the spot, and I passed the test with two whole questions to spare. That should be enough to grant me a TM, right?

Not in the eyes of the old bag. She doesn't bother to look up from the paper sorting she was doing, eyes firmly fixed past her hooked nose to watch her hand movement, pointedly ignoring my protests as she sniffed, selecting one and handing it to me with a mocking smile.

"If you had bothered to read the class syllabus, you would have known that class participation is an important component of your grade. One that your performance was exceptionally below average. If not for your lucky score on your final exam, you may have failed altogether."

I scowl at that, not being able to refute anything, since I was dozing through the vast majority of her class. I scan rapidly through the surprisingly simplistic syllabus. Class participation, the only other category than the final, was twenty percent, so to get the bare minimum passing score of seventy… I do some quick calculations in my head. This bitch gave me a thirty! What gall. I got most of the answers. That should be more than enough. It wasn't like I was disturbing the class with my antics or something.

At the very bottom of the page is a section for extra credit. As much as I want to leave this building and never return, that Work Up TM was far too tempting to let slip through my fingers. I turn the syllabus paper around so she can see it, pointing at the extra credit section with my free hand. "What do I have to do to get this extra credit, then?"

That same mocking smile from earlier returns, as the crone finally dares to look at me face to face. "A student must demonstrate the applications of the course material in the real world."

Why did I feel like I was being swallowed into her trap? "And how exactly would I do that?" I ask impatiently.

She stands up from the table, reaching into a pocket and withdrawing a Pokéball. "Through battle, of course."

Oh, you are so on.

----------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Luna? They don't pick anyone to serve as instructors at the Trainers' School. And our teacher is a lot older than either of us."

Huh. I hadn't even noticed. But I'm not Torchickening out of this one. This old bag thinks she is gonna walk right over me! My very honor is at stake!

"Sorry, Lucas. It's that time."

He gives me a perplexed look, nearly identical to the one earlier today in the classroom. I'm beginning to wonder why someone so smart and employed at the most prestigious Pokémon lab in the region is so confused by me. Still, I try my best to explain.

"It's time to duel!" I emphasize, holding up two fingers for added effect. If only I had a card between them.

He shakes his head in exasperation, but I shake mine internally at his ignorance. Damn these different game universes. I bet people on Earth would have got that reference.

The school courtyard, located behind the school, was the site for our upcoming battle. Surprisingly enough, there were people still here, even in the early evening, battling with their Pokémon, or spectating matches. One between two young boys, both of whom I vaguely recognize as my classmates is finishing up, as one of the boy's Pokémon, a Piplup, goes in for a Peck attack, which is apparent by its beak elongating and glowing white. The opposing Pokémon, a Houndour, is slightly faster, snatching the Penguin Pokémon out of the air with electrified fangs and chomping down hard, before throwing the water-starter across the field back to its trainer, the super effective Thunder Fang tipping the scales in the hellhound's favor despite being a Fire-type against a Water-type.

Piplup was bleeding in several places from the nasty bite mark, and electrical burns to boot. Its trainer recalled the penguin Pokémon stiffly, thanking it for its hard work before handing his opponent a few hundred dollars before all but sprinting out of here. I wince in sympathy as he runs past, not caring about anything except getting his Pokémon to the center. It would probably be right as rain by the morning, but it definitely sucked to see your Pokémon get hurt like that.

I was joking about my honor being at stake at all, but this was going to be serious business. Would I prefer not to get embarrassed by this teacher in front of everyone? Obviously. But I also didn't want my Pokémon to get badly hurt.

I knew that it was inevitable, especially if I wanted to train up Charmander. Heck, even Glaceon at some point would stop rolling over these Pokémon, and get in a really serious battle, where she could lose badly and get severely injured. But I wasn't looking forward to that moment.

My opponent, the teacher lady, had selected a centrally located field for us to battle on. It's already drawing attention, with several of the bystanders gravitating towards it. I spot a couple girls from class holding a Bonsly and a Happiny in their arms, an older boy with a wispy goatee trying to feign disinterest, though both his and his Tyrogue's eyes are continually looking this way, another boy with blue hair and glasses sending out his Abra, then recalling it with a sigh, realizing the Psychic-type was asleep, and a girl with curly pink hair in twin tails pampering her Gible.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

I can't help but feel jealous. How does some random chick out here in Jubilife have a baby Garchomp, the strongest non-legendary Pokémon in all of Sinnoh? Sure, it wasn't as rare as something like Beldum, which you could only get as a gift after having competed the game, but it was still surprising to see one.

The old crone smirks evilly as I take my place on the other side of the battlefield, leaving Lucas to join the viewing audience.

"Ahh, you actually showed up! I was beginning to wonder where you had run off too."

I'm not about to let her trash talk get to me. I fake a yawn before I bother to reply, I return the smirk. "Sorry, I'm beginning to think that your voice is why I was falling asleep back in class."

She narrows her eyes, holding two bony fingers up. "Each of us will use two Pokémon for this battle."

Perfect.

The teacher takes the initiative. "Go, Minccino!"

Out pops a rather cute gray and white Pokémon that I recognize, since it's native to Unova. It has long rabbit ears and a very flooffy tail as long as its actual body, though I'm not sure what I would compare it to on Earth. Maybe a sugar glider? In any case, it sure doesn't look very tough. More like a pet than an actual battler. It should be fairly straightforward for Charmander, then.

"Ok Charmander, you're up!" I send out my fire lizard, who looks a bit surprised that Lucas's Chimchar isn't his opponent.

"This is a real battle, Charmander, so you don't have to hold back. Let's show them what you can do, alright?"

That gets a good response. He agrees happily, tail flame expanding greatly in preparation for the battle.

With that, the battle begins.

"Start off with Charm!" My opponent immediately takes the initiative, ordering the first move. Only, the Normal-type makes no move to attack, instead putting its paw in its mouth and making a ridiculously cute face while widening its eyes nonthreateningly.

Alright, this thing is disgustingly adorable. I mean, I am biased, but I'd rate Eevee as the number one cutest Normal-type, and then Teddiursa as number two. But this thing has a strong case for I also see is Charmander's tail flame, which was raring a matter of seconds ago, starting to fade slightly, until it is only slightly above what I have observed as normal activity. What a terrible start.

"Don't be fooled Charmander! It's waiting for you to drop your guard so it can attack! Use Ember, now!"

My Fire-type shakes itself out of its haze slightly, opening its mouth and releasing a barrage of flaming-hot coals. Ember isn't a full flame or anything, I'd compare it more to getting hit by a shower of super-hot charcoals. Still, the attack makes a direct hit, scorching the Normal-types gray fur and singing it, causing Minccino to yelp in pain. Then, to both Charmander's and my surprise, it bursts into tears, wailing loudly as a steady stream of water flows from its already wide eyes.

Uhh…

Is this normal? So much for an experienced trainer and battler. This teacher's Pokémon looks like it hasn't seen any action at all! Is it newly hatched from an egg or something?

It's a testament to how far we have already come, with only a few days of knowing each other. When Charmander and I glance at each other, I'm pretty sure that we are on the same wavelength. It feels wrong to attack when the enemy Pokémon is like this. I guess we should wait for it to run back to its Pokéball, and take our victory, no matter how it is earned…

"Use Sing!"

Huh?

When I look back over at Minccino, its eyes are dry, and the tears have totally stopped! What the fuck is this? Its whole personality flipped like a light switch, and now the Normal-type has a malicious glint in its beady black eyes, as it starts to sing a lullaby.

I curse inwardly. "Cover your ears!" Charmander hastily slaps his paws to the sides of his head, and after a moment, when I start to feel slightly drowsy as well, I take my own advice and copy the action.

That crying act was so believable too. I can't the whole thing was a bunch of phony Croconaw tears!

Oh wait. There's a move called Fake Tears, isn't there? That must have been it, and Minccino used it without even a verbal command. They must have practiced that Charm into Fake Tears combo before. As much as I don't like the teacher, and now her Pokémon, I have to admit that this was exceedingly well played on their parts.

I'm not sure if Sing has more effectiveness the closer you are, or if Pokémon are more susceptible, but Charmander's eyes begin to droop, until they are totally closed, and he slumps to the ground fast asleep. He manages to get his paws under him, which certainly makes for a more comfortable nap, but maybe thunking his head on the ground would have jarred him out of falling asleep.

Our opponents have matching evil expressions. "Work Up!" The older lady croons, as Minccino starts to jump up and down to pump itself up.

Well played again. I hate you even more.

"Oi!" I shout, cupping my hands together to increase the volume. "Wake up already!" But I could have been shouting through a megaphone, and still nothing would have happened. Charmander was absolutely dead to the world. Forget a prince's kiss, I'd need a full marching band at least to try and rouse my Pokémon from this magical sleep.

Sufficiently worked up, Minccino was absolutely itching to finally attack, seeing as all of its moves have been debuffs, buffs, and status effects. Something its trainer was more than happy to oblige. "Tail Slap!"

The Normal-type's tail starts to glow and Minccino darts over whacking Charmander several times with the hardened limb, in the face, right on top of my Fire-types skull, and on its back.

You'd best believe that I would wake up in an instant if I were being slapped silly, but it's not the case here. Despite the thorough beating, Charmander remains fast asleep. Clearly, our opponent had no qualms about attacking a Pokémon while it was down, which was something that I needed to learn, and quickly. Would I order an attack on a healthy Pokémon while it was distracted or unawares? Yeah, I could do that. It would be hard for me to go for the throat against an already injured Pokémon though. At least for now.

Speaking of which… I expand Charmander's Pokéball, holding it out in front of me. "Charmander, return!" No need to keep this up. The Fire-type will probably awaken confused, with a sore jaw and a headache. Best not to turn that into a concussion or anything more serious.

"Well! I suppose that is my victory, then. I do hope your next Pokémon puts up more of a challenge."

I pause while switching Pokéballs in my Pocket, palming Glaceon's shrunken one instead. What did she say?

"What are you talking about? I'm just substituting my Pokémon."

"There are no substitutions, you silly girl. Charmander lost to Minccino the moment you took him out of the battle. These are strictly one on one matches. Now, send out your second Pokémon so we can end this farce of a battle."

No substitutions? I try to remember what exactly we had said at the start of the battle, but I'm drawing a total blank. I guess I'll accept the loss. I don't exactly want to throw Charmander out there while he's sleeping.

"Let's go, Glaceon!"

Glaceon appears in a flash of red, taking in the surroundings, and crouches down slightly once she realizes this is a battle, fur slightly standing up around her neck.

"Don't take this one lightly." I warn, glaring at the opposing Pokémon. "It likes to play weak and strike when your guard is down." Glaceon growls at my words, taking both our opponents seriously.

The old bag takes a long look at my Pokémon, before she pulls out her own Pokéball, recalling the Normal-type in front of us. Before I can retort to her about no substitutions, she shoots down that argument. "I'm selecting a different Pokémon for this round."

This time she pulls out a different Pokéball from the standard red and white. This one is teal with black stripes criss-crossing the top; I immediately recognize it as a net ball. A Water-type then?

"Kricketune, go!"

A Bug-type, actually. Kricketune is quite the odd-looking Pokémon, with a primarily red body, black wings, and a ludicrously large, impressive handlebar mustache. Despite its silly appearance, the blades it has for arms are no joke; I can see the evening sun reflecting off their sharp edges. When I hear the Bug-type say its name, I'm reminded strangely of a xylophone.

Great. This bullshit probably knows Sing too.

Clearly, I made a mistake trying to wait out the duration of the song. What I need to do is stop the opponent from singing in the first place.

This time, when the teacher calls for Sing, I take the offensive when the Bug-type crosses its arms across its chest and starts to make music.

"Get in there and interrupt it with Sand-Attack!"

Glaceon darts in as Kricketune begins its melody, swiping a pawful of dirt at the bright red Pokémon, giving it a mouthful of sand right in its mustachioed face.

The Bug-type makes several angry noises, swiping at its dirty mustache with the back of its bladed left arm.

No hesitating. I need to take this thing out, and with as little damage as possible, so Glaceon is healthy enough to beat her Minccino as well.

"Keep up the pressure! Quick Attack!" Glaceon faintly glows white, before she charges right into the abdomen of the red cricket Pokémon, sending it stumbling back a few feet before Kricketune regains its footing.

"In the air and use Sing again!"

I'm certain that this Pokémon isn't part Flying-type, but apparently that has no bearing on its ability to fly. Kricketune spreads its thin wings, fluttering them as fast as a hummingbird to launch itself into the sky, where once again it crosses its arms and begins to sing.

"Icy Wind, Glaceon! Don't let it stay in one place!"

My first Pokémon starts to launch blast after blast of freezing-cold air at the Bug-type, who is surprisingly nimble for not being a Flying-type. It manages to dodge the bulk of the attacks, but the subzero air is starting to take a toll, as frost slowly accumulates on its carapace and wings, causing Kricketune's aerial movements to gradually become more labored.

"We're making progress, Glaceon! Keep at it!"

Unfortunately, my opponent notices Kricketune's increasingly lethargic movements as well. "No you don't! Silver Wind, now!"

Instead of holding its blades in front of its chest, as it does when it starts to sing, Kricketune flaps up a gust of wind with its wings. Its swords glow silver, and slash outwards, releasing a salvo of matching-colored crescents that combine with the wind to form the attack.

Countering is the other battle mechanic that the games don't bother to include but seems rather obvious once you get into battle. It feels natural to try and counter the opponent's attack with your own. Like dodging though, it's not a perfect strategy; type-advantage, the strength of the move, and the power of the Pokémon behind it all contribute to which attack will overpower the other.

In this situation, while neither move has a type-advantage, and the relative power of the moves are about equal, Glaceon is a more natural, stronger ranged attacker than Kricketune, who seems like it would prefer getting in close and making use of its sword arms. Icy Wind pushes back the opposing Silver Wind, until a furious effort from the Bug-type manages to prevent the move from connecting.

No way that thing can keep Icy Wind at bay for much longer, but the teacher lady realizes this as well. "Aerial Ace!" she calls. Kricketune halts Silver Wind and drops like a stone, and before Icy Wind can reach it, the Bug-type is twisting in midair like a fighter jet. It pulls up at the last second as the bright red Pokémon falls so that it skims the ground, carrying all the momentum from the fall into the Flying-type attack. Despite not looking aerodynamic, I can almost see the air coming off its body with how quickly the Bug-type was moving.

"Water Pulse!" I order, eyeing up our fast-approaching opponent. Glaceon starts to form a bowling ball sized orb of water, but I'm not sure if this attack is going to connect, considering how fast the enemy Pokémon is moving.

I decide to take the safer midground option, preferring to at least connect with a weaker move, rather than risk taking a serious hit on the chance we totally whiff. "On the ground in front of you!" I hastily amend.

Glaceon obeys, sending the attack flying a few feet in front of her, rather than at our flying opponent. Water Pulse crashes into the ground, sprouting up as a large wave of water, enveloping the Bug-type, though moments later Kricketune emerges, still connecting with its Aerial Ace, causing an ugly purple bruise to form on my Pokémon's chest as the attack sends her tumbling back.

"Are you good to keep going?" I question my Pokémon, who is slightly wincing.

She gets to her feet and snarls at our opponent as a response.

Said Pokémon hadn't taken off into the air yet, as I watch water drops slide off of its sword arms. I realize it must be too heavy to fly, with it being soaking wet. Well, that suits me just fine.

"Again, Glaceon. Attack with Water Pulse!" Hopefully, its movement is impaired enough to where it couldn't dodge either, with all the frost and water preventing any sudden moves.

Sadly, the old bag still has a couple of tricks left to pull. "X-Scissor!" She yells, as Kricketune brings its blades up and slashes downwards in an X-shaped pattern, slicing our attack into nothing but a shower of water droplets.

"Now use S-!" Not this again. The teacher must be on the ropes if they are resorting to trying this again.

"No way! Quick Attack!

"Slash," she revises, with an evil grin.

Glaceon charges into Kricketune once more, with the motive of preventing it from singing, but the cricket is able to bring its right blade down even as it is knocked back from the attack, leaving a shallow red cut along my Ice-types flank.

I curse inwardly seeing more damage being inflicted on my Pokémon. This needs to end now. I still have her Minccino to beat as well. Is Kricketune strong enough to cut through a frozen Water Pulse? I guess we'll see. "Water Pulse, and do the thing!" I call, feeling a bit awkward, but not really wanting to give my intentions away. Luckily, Glaceon gets the message. We've found that freezing the core of Water Pulse before it is launched makes it far easier to turn the rest of the attack into ice in midair, rather than launching it as a ball of pure liquid and trying to manipulate it in midair.

"Haven't you learned anything yet?" Not from you. "Cut it to shreds!"

This time, when the X-Scissor comes down, it meets a solid chunk of ice instead. Kricketune doesn't have time to demonstrate its shock, as the attack explodes into a thousand shards of ice right when it connects with Kricketune's abdomen, knocking the cricket Pokémon onto its back, unconscious.

"Kricketune, return." To my confusion, after bringing her Bug-type back to its ball, she gives me an appraising look, as if reconsidering me. "Perhaps you do have some talent after all."

Huh. Maybe I misjudged you too, teacher lady.

"Not enough for a TM, however."

Never mind.

"Hold on!" I challenge her as she turns away. "Send out your Minccino again. This isn't finished yet."

"Of course it is." the teacher cackles. "We both won one round of the battle. That means it's a tie."

"What's the point of that? We both have one Pokémon left, so we can settle this, and not leave it as a tie."

"Perhaps you should remember to have a referee when you battle, then, who sets the rules of the engagement." I look to my left, expecting to see one, but only see the assorted trainers in the audience leaving with a few muttered grumbles, unhappy that they didn't see a satisfactory ending, although I do hear a few murmurs about what that last move I used was as well. When I look back, the old bag is already halfway out the door.

I've half a mind to chase the old bag down and demand for a rematch, or shake her down until a TM falls out of her outfit, but I probably should go to the Pokémon Center, to heal up my team. They hadn't been injured enough where I would need an emergency potion or anything, but I didn't want to be the type of trainer who thought themselves more important than their Pokémon.

"Glaceon, thank you." I say gratefully, looking back at my Pokémon. "You were awesome out there." I return Glaceon to her Pokéball for a well-deserved rest, as Lucas slowly walks up to me, with an expression that I really can't put my finger on.

"You were pretty good out there", he compliments, gaze fixed on a point behind me rather than looking me in the face. "You figured out how to deal with her trying to put your Pokémon to sleep really well." Lucas looks like he's debating how to continue.

By throwing most of what I knew out the window. Glaceon should be primarily a ranged attacker, but we had to get up close and personal to interrupt Kricketune's singing. It was strange; I usually wouldn't bother using physical moves with Glaceon, since her Special Attack was so high in the games, but here it seemed like it was as important to have some physical attacks in your arsenal, for situations like this.

I prod him to speak up so that Lucas can quit holding his tongue. "But?" I prompt.

"You should always make sure you have a referee for battles that are more than one versus one." He tells me flatly. "So both parties have a clear understanding of what the rules are before they battle, and when the battle is over."

I bite my tongue as I mull over his words. It does make sense. A best of three theoretically could be best two out of three, or the first one to knock out all three Pokémon. I scowl internally. Add that to the list of things I need to relearn.

Before I can open my mouth to admit, grudgingly, that Lucas is right, someone clears their throat, speaking in a posh accent.

"Excuse me. Might I have a word with you?"

I figured everyone had left by now. And I don't remember seeing any middle-aged ladies in the crowd, so who the heck was talking? Whirling around, I realize it's Gible girl, the one who was meticulously polishing her Pokémon scales before I started my battle, though she has swapped out her Dragon-type for an umbrella. Can I still call it an umbrella if it's not raining?

In any case, on closer inspection she looks a bit like a Barbie doll that has come to life. Her pink hair has been split into magnificently curled pigtails to frame her pretty face. Gible girl is wearing a frilly blue knee length dress, with a small white cardigan on top, tied together with a purple bow. The outfit is completed with expensive looking strappy heels, and full-length stockings. This girl must live in a penthouse suite in one of these fancy apartment complexes I saw when I first landed here in Jubilife. I plaster on a fake smile.

"Sure!" I lie, hoping she would make her comment on the battle and go away.

Despite looking about my age, her mannerisms couldn't be more different. Her posture is excellent, and she doesn't take any shortcuts with her words. Something is off though; there's something robotic and forced about Gible girl that is giving me pause.

"I was simply wondering why a fellow coordinator was stooping to battle in a manner and place such as this one."

Well, that at least explains why she was spending so much time on her Pokémon's appearance. It didn't make any sense to me to polish up a Ground-Type when it prefers to be covered in dirt anyways. But I haven't the foggiest of notions how this girl mistook me for a coordinator.

I look at Lucas for an explanation, but all I get is a confused shrug, so I reluctantly reply, feeling a bit self-conscious about my speech. "Yeah… I'm not a coordinator or anything. Just a trainer."

She gestures behind me with her umbrella. "If you are simply a trainer, then explain the move that you finished the battle with. Such a move is far better suited for contests than for battles."

What, our frozen Water Pulse? I can honestly say that contests didn't even cross my mind when I was coming up with that. I scratch the back of my head before I respond. "That? It was a Water Pulse, that my Pokémon learned to freeze in midair, since she's an Ice-type and all." I guess I could see the appeal in a contest, since it was a bit flashy and unexpected.

"So, did you come by this idea by watching it on television? Or are you descended from a lineage of renowned trainers whose signature move was a similar one?" She questions intensely.

Ah. Figures someone like this would make a big deal about family legacy and all that. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have anything like that. "My mom's a trainer, but I dunno about a renowned lineage or anything. I don't think she won a single full battle in any major tournament." Not that she was a bad trainer or anything. Being a type-specialist has its benefits, like almost guaranteeing you a job in a Pokémon gym, but the more Pokémon used in the battle, the harder it was to win when you had so many that shared the same type.

"Are you certain? You have no connection to anyone of note? Your mother did not win a single championship trophy?"

I rack my brain for anything that I may have missed, like an old dusty medal or ribbon signifying a major victory, but I'm coming up empty. It seems like they are constantly changing the format for all the big tournaments, but I'm positive that my mother's best ever placement was the Round of 32.

I shake my head. It would have been nice to show off a little bit, and maybe pick up something useful in return, though I'm not exactly sure how contest battling could help me with regular battling. But I suppose that's an aristocratic life for you. Can't be caught fraternizing with the common folk and all.

"Excellent!" She declares.

Huh?

"If you are the originator of this move, and if it is as learnable as you claim, then you can provide a demonstration for me and my Pokémon. It has such potential, and is wasted on simple trainer battles. In fact, you should be thanking me! I will take your simple trick and turn it into something of true elegance, a masterpiece that will take me to the top of the coordinating world!" The pink-haired girl daydreams delusionally.

Lucas and I exchange another raised eyebrow look. Eventually, he speaks up to burst the girl's bubble.

"Sorry miss…" Lucas starts.

"Ursula."

Ugh. Her name even sounds like something an old family, with generations of wealth would name their daughter.

"Ursula," he says diplomatically. "I don't think that Gible can learn any Ice or Water-type moves to replicate what Glaceon pulled off."

The curly haired coordinator sniffs haughtily, pulling out a Pokéball, and with a flash of red light, reveals a second Pokémon, this one a blue acorn with four spindly legs that I recognized as a Surskit. This thing is a Water-type, so there probably is a chance it could produce an imitation of our attack. If it knew an Ice-type move.

I guess there's no harm in helping the girl out. She's not really competition if she's not even a trainer. "Alright then, I suppose I could teach your Surskit a thing or two. I need to heal up my Pokémon, but you can meet me at the Pokémon Center tomorrow morning."

"You don't need to teach me anything," Ursula replies heatedly. "All we require is to see it once."

For a second, her prissy accent dropped into something far more normal, but I don't dwell on it long, instead crossing my arms and returning fire. If I play my cards right, I might be able to squeeze this girl like an orange, except for some cash instead of juice. "You won't learn anything from one measly demo. Glaceon is an Ice-Type, and is naturally gifted at manipulating Ice, and it still took us a while to master that move."

I continue to speak over her affronted look. "I'm headed straight to Oreburgh starting tomorrow morning. If you want to learn, you can fo-" a vision in my head of this girl following me around, hiding in bushes, staring at me while I train with binoculars like Team Rocket pops into my head, and I hastily change what I was about to say. "Come with me, and you can learn on the road." I finish smoothly.

"Shouldn't you think this through a little?" My current companion mutters quietly. "Doesn't this Ursula girl seem odd to you?"

Eh. She could be from the moon for all I care. This girl has to be stinking rich, and I wanted a piece of that wealth for myself. "Wait for it. I'm about to get us paid!" I hiss back under my breath.

I don't think she overheard our conversation, but she narrows her eyes regardless. "I am not going to stoop to accepting charity. You will be compensated for assisting me. In fact…"

Oh my goodness, I didn't even need to ask to get paid, Ursula is literally volunteering to. No way rich people have any sense of money. I bet she's about to way overpay me, I think, watching her rummage through her pocket until Ursula finally withdraws an odd tube looking container. Is this some type of infinite storage wallet? I hold out my hand eagerly, awaiting a large stack of cash as she opens the top of the tube, tilting it downwards...

Ursula looks on expectantly as she deposits a few round, different colored, somethings into my palm. They look a bit like mini muffin tops, and while I normally like sweets, I was hoping for something that had a bit more monetary value.

"Excuse my ignorance, but what exactly are these, and why should I want them?"

Ursula looks happy to lecture me, but Lucas beats her to the punch. "Oh wow! These poffins look amazing!" He gushes, picking one out of my hand gently, inspecting it with a practiced eye.

"What the heck is a poffin?" I ask, plucking one with my other hand and imitating Lucas's motion.

"Seriously? You know all the Fairy-Type Pokémon in Sinnoh, but you don't know what a poffin is?" He questions incredulously, all of his suspicion transferred over to me.

I'm spared from having to improvise an answer because Ursula is more than happy to educate me. "Poffins are the finest food one can offer to their Pokémon, of course. Only a poffin master such as I can create such a delicate and delectable treat."

I raise an eyebrow at the exaggeration, but Lucas seems to agree with her. "Poffins are super hard to make, you know. One mistake during the stirring process and you could completely ruin the whole batch! And because they're made from berries, poffins have all sorts of health benefits for your Pokémon. "

"Right." Ursula says smugly. "You should be honored that I am willing to share my special recipe with you and your Pokémon. If you come up with something else worth replicating, then perhaps I may consider extending this reciprocity. Until then…"

The coordinator recalls Surskit with a flourish, twirling and unfurling her umbrella in one motion, and sauntering off with a spring in her step.

I'm left with a handful of poffins and a bad feeling in my gut. Just what had I got myself into now?