Kanto Wilderness IX - Training Montage
Slate crashed to the ground for the tenth time that day after the small but strong Machop threw him over her shoulder. He forced himself to roll to his feet while trying to resist the urge of ripping his skin off.
“Bulbasaur, we’ll have to go lighter with the Sludge Bombs from now on,” Slate said with a groan. Bulbasaur croaked in agreement, panting heavily from the training she had done so far. Beside her Vulpix lay, wiped out and nearly falling asleep. Slate sighed. “Wake her up.”
The Grass-type prodded Vulpix awake with her vines, getting sleepy bites in return. Eventually Bulbasaur succeeded in convincing Vulpix to rise and the two Pokémon went back to their practice.
“Alright, again,” Slate said, facing Machop with his arms up.
Machop did have some technical training from her time as a Gym Pokémon. Unfortunately, it was only the barest of basics, many simple stances and poses designed to build strength and flexibility while developing discipline.
Slate had quickly grown bored of that, as had Machop, leading to them grappling in the middle of the clearing. Unfortunately, Machop was far better at this than Slate.
Again Slate crashed to the ground. Although Chansey hit them with a Heal Pulse from where she stood watching, healing the bruises that were beginning to form, Slate still felt exhausted as he pushed himself to his feet. He squared off against Machop again.
“Your stance is wrong.”
Slate flinched at the sudden speech. His Pokémon quickly whirled about to face the unknown speaker and Slate matched them, his hands held before him tightly in fists.
“Still wrong,” a heavily muscled man said. He was sitting crossed legged near the tree line on a stump, his bare feet crossed before him. A cup of tea was in his hands. “If you hold your hands like that you block your vision to the sides.”
“What are you doing here?” Slate asked. He was certain that there had been no one around him when he made camp last night.
The unknown man raised his eyebrows. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You're sparring on my lawn!”
“Your lawn?” Slate asked dumbly. The man pointed over his shoulder where Slate could see the barest hint of a stone cottage hidden among the trees. It looked quite small which helped explain why it missed Slate's attention.
“Your Scyther woke me up by buzzing my windows. Imagine my surprise when I found the rest of you making a mess of things.”
Slate eyed the half-frozen trees and torn up ground all around the clearing. He nervously chuckled, lowering his hands and signaling his Pokémon to stand down. “Sorry about that, we can move on. I didn't realize this was your home.”
The man sipped his tea. “Why would you move on when you need help now?” the man asked, causing Slate to frown.
“Because I'm invading your privacy?” he tentatively said. The pair was silent for a moment and Slate began to turn to leave.
“Why are you sparring with your Machop?” the man suddenly asked. Slate looked back.
“We want to challenge the Saffron City Gym but they only permit Fighting-type Pokémon. I wanted to get her trained up so we could win but she needs a sparring partner. So we’re learning together,” Slate explained. Machop nodded beside him.
“Only Fighting-type Pokémon, huh?” the man mumbled, his eyes fixated on Machop's shoulder. “How did you get your hands on a Gym Pokémon?”
Slate's eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know she was a Gym Pokémon?”
The man nodded his chin to Machop's shoulders. “Those scars on her shoulder are not from combat. They're the mark of Lee, the current Gym Leader. She must be the daughter of one of his Pokémon because he marks all of them in such a way.”
Slate glanced at Machop and saw her nod slightly in confirmation. “One of the Gym Trainers was trying to extort a Poké Mart for money. I intervened and fought Machop. She lost and the Trainer snapped her Poké Ball, abandoning her. I asked her to join me so we could come back and defeat them properly when the time is right,” Slate said, giving an abbreviated explanation of the events that led to him catching Machop.
The unknown man nodded, sipping his tea thoughtfully as he considered Slate and his Pokémon. He nodded, placed his cup of tea to the side, and rose to his feet. Slate belatedly realized the man towered over him, more so than anyone he had met before. He approached Slate with quiet steps.
“My name is Siba,” Siba said. “And you are in luck, Trainer. I will assist you.”
“Assist me?” Slate asked. He had no idea how to react to the massive man who was now within arm reach of him. Within arm reach of Siba that is, not Slate who still had a long way to go.
Siba nodded. “I've heard of many such instances with Saffron's Gym and its Trainers. I have contemplated several different paths to combat this but I believe you will now play a role in what must be done.”
“Uh, what?” Slate asked. He hoped he wasn't about to experience another Poacher situation.
“I will train you and your Pokémon in the ways of physical combat. It will be easy to learn the basics but they will take you a lifetime to master. I have been working toward it for thirty years and I am no closer to perfection than when I began. Observe!”
Siba suddenly crouched, his legs spread wide to support his stance. He struck with open palms at the air above and beside Slate, each strike causing a force of wind that Slate could feel. Siba was faster than Slate thought possible and he wondered what this man could possibly consider perfection.
Siba rose. “I have seen Machamp perform similar strikes, each so strong they could fell the trees around this clearing from ten paces. I have a long way to go before I reach those low heights,” Siba said humbly.
Slate nodded with wide eyes. Perfection sounded impressive and he could feel Machop eagerly flexing her hands beside him. “Please, teach us, Siba,” he said. Suddenly he fell as his legs were kicked out from underneath him.
Siba looked down at him and Machop who was likewise on the ground. “The first lesson Student: You must learn how to fall.”
Slate groaned as he rose to his feet. This might have been a mistake.
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Days turned to weeks.
Slate knew of the passage of time but only measured it in instances of training and recovery. He and his Pokémon were run ragged by Siba from sunup to sundown. In the rare moments where Slate and his Pokémon weren't training, Siba had them battling against each other while Slate faced off against the man himself.
Slate was ruthlessly defeated every time.
Siba did teach him though. Every failure was carefully examined and explained, with the older man telling Slate how he should have reacted or done something different. It was very informative and the first time Slate applied his knowledge of weak points of the human body to combat, Siba had been delighted by the initiative. It had been entirely ineffective but Siba had an approving smile on his face as he threw Slate to the ground once again.
Chansey's ability to use Gravity also pleased the man. Siba took Chansey to the side, speaking to her in a low voice while Slate was busy doing pushups alongside Machop. When the pair returned, the area around the pair dramatically increased as the gravity around them doubled. Slate quickly began to lag behind.
“You'll need to eat more, Student,” Siba said, sipping his tea as if he hadn't made Slate's exercising more difficult.
“Why?” Slate panted. Chansey suddenly hit him with a Heal Pulse, making Slate's limbs feel slightly less tired.
“Heal Pulse is an interesting move. It helps promote healing in humans and Pokémon but it's far more effective on the latter. Humans have far too little excess energy within them for it to work in the same manner,” Siba explained before sipping more tea.
“Because of this, we need more nutrients for it to work properly. I would recommend doubling your caloric intake but to not perform this sort of training in excess. Wait at least six months before trying to do this again in this manner.”
Siba gave Slate many more tips of similar use. A slower, more efficient pace would serve Slate better in the long run but Siba confessed that he had other matters to attend to in the near future and would be unavailable to help Slate again. Slate would need to learn everything he could now and practice it using his own discretion in the future.
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So Slate learned. He learned how Fighting-type Pokémon could fight in two distinct ways. The first was in a traditional Pokémon Battle. There could be kicks and punches used but it was a different type of contest than the second. The second was more physical and technical, focused more on techniques and disciplines that differed from Region to Region. These battles were usually done in specific tournament settings but could happen during Pokémon Battles between two Fighting-types as a sign of respect.
“Fighting-types are that big on honor?” Slate asked, his voice and limbs wavering. He was crouched, holding a heavy rock helpfully provided by Lairon out in front of him.
Siba was sitting cross legged, enjoying another cup of tea. Slate had never seen him eat or drink anything else and often wondered if the man was part Grass-type, absorbing energy from the sun. Siba nodded peacefully. “Fighting-types may rely on their energy to win battles and many often do. But when they face another they enjoy testing their skills against a like-minded opponent. Do not be surprised if your Machop ignores your orders in such a situation. Instead you should trust her and the training you've gone through together.”
Siba approved of Slate's intention to train alongside his Pokémon. He felt too many Trainers these days never understood the sacrifice and dedication their Pokémon experienced, never truly understanding what they went through. While humans were often physically weaker, there were many instances of humans performing feats beyond possibility, similar to those done by Pokémon.
It was conversations like this that made Slate believe Siba was a Pokémon Trainer but he never saw any Pokémon with the man, nor Poké Balls on his belt. The man seemed completely at ease with living this far away from civilization though, and Slate reasoned that the local Pokémon were familiar enough with Siba to not bother him.
Occasionally Siba would leave on some errand or another, giving Slate and his Pokémon a list of chores to do around the nearby forest. Slate never once considered skipping them, regardless of how tired he and his Pokémon were. Siba was helping them grow in leaps and bounds and he wasn't going to let that debt go unpaid. These chores were often peaceful and relaxing in their own way and helped Slate spend more time with his Pokémon.
His Pokémon had all grown in strength and power. Each had accomplished the goals Slate had set for them, each had exceeded his expectations. But they were not content with their successes and threw themselves against one another in brutal battles, pushing themselves even further. Even gentle Chansey enabled it; patching them up, weighing them down with Gravity, and even throwing in sneak attacks when she felt the battling Pokémon weren't paying attention.
Slate didn't know which of his Pokémon started the sneak attacks but if he had to guess he would lay the blame at Vulpix’s tiny paws. She seemed to delight in sending Ice Shards at an inopportune moment, disrupting the flow of battle between others to her advantage. Soon it was not uncommon for an Sludge Bomb, Air Slash, or Thunderbolt to fly through the air at an unsuspecting target as the other Pokémon joined in.
Their isolation from the rest of the world helped him focus on his training with Siba, who seemed pleased the young man was so dedicated. With weeks passing like pages in a book, Slate soon forgot the rest of the world as he focused on bettering himself and his Pokémon. Which was why he was so surprised one day when Siba didn't start their training immediately.
Slate would often awaken to find Siba already sitting by the campfire, quietly sipping tea. Slate and his Pokémon would have five minutes to themselves to stretch and get ready for the next day of training, while Siba would give them instructions on what to practice, explaining as necessary. Yet that day Siba sat there quietly, staring at Slate contemplatively.
The young man did not let it get to him. He stood there calmly, his body relaxed, while he patiently waited for Siba to begin. His Pokémon stood with him, their eyes focused on Siba in the same way, and even Flaaffy waited, if a little impatiently. The Electric-type had flourished under Siba's instructions, willingly standing in as a sparring partner despite his current form being ill-suited for it.
“Yesterday was your last day of training under me,” Siba suddenly said, breaking the silence.
Slate felt unsteady but pushed the feeling aside. Siba was not done speaking.
“I have trained many Trainers and Pokémon over the years. While you lack the passion and interest in martial arts of some of those disciples, you have performed adequately for your chosen profession. But just as you are not a martial artist, nor are most of your Pokémon Fighting-types, although Flaaffy would give many a solid run for their money.”
Flaaffy bleated a challenge, sparks dancing from his fur, causing Slate and Siba to smile. Siba continued, “You are a Pokémon Trainer, a man who uses these creatures for battle. But why do you battle, Slate?”
“Because struggling is how we survive. Pushing past that is how we thrive,” Slate said confidently. The answer had been seared into his heart and body a dozen times over, long before he stepped a single foot on his Pokémon Journey.
“And what does thriving look like to you?”
“Freedom. The ability to go wherever I wish, to be able to see new things, experience new things, to help those that are weaker. Because that is the other half of it, what is the use of power if you do not use it to better the lives of others?” Slate asked.
Siba smiled. “Well spoken. So you do not seek the suffering of others?”
Slate was quiet as he considered that. There would be some who he would see suffer. The poachers sprang to mind immediately, causing his anger to burn hot and fast but a hotter ember lurked even deeper, of a pain barely healed. If he could go back in time he would make the Houndoom that hunted him on Mt. Silver suffer before killing them again.
“Those that are needlessly cruel I would see suffer,” Slate quietly said. Siba's brow furrowed.
“Needless cruelty? Suffer? How could anything be needfully cruel? Who are you to enforce judgment and punishment on others?” Siba asked, the first few hints of anger lurking in his voice that Slate had ever heard.
“A doctor cuts. A farmer harvests. A Trainer guides their Pokémon in training and battle. But if we shift our perspective, it changes. The doctor is performing needless surgeries for his own ego. The farmer is raising an excess of Pokémon for slaughter because he thinks he can make more money. The Trainer is using his Pokémon to attack others,” Slate said. Flaaffy bleated softly beside him, digging a hoof into the ground. Slate ran a hand through Flaaffy’s thick mane before continuing. “Because I am part of this society I have the responsibility to act for those who cannot because I am aware of the good and the bad.”
The clearing was silent as the two men stared each other down. Slate would not bow down from this. It would be easy to do just enough for himself, his Pokémon even, but it wouldn’t be right. To stand by and do nothing will ensure things only ever get worse. Even if Slate only gained a miniscule hair over the evils of this world, it would be a success.
Siba suddenly smiled and the anger vanished from his face. “You have conviction. Good. It will serve you well in the future.”
Slate blinked in shock. “You're not upset?”
“No. The mark of a strong Trainer is one who understands that he will have to send his companions, friends, even family, out before himself to fight and sometimes die by his choice. Many Trainers face life and death situations completely unprepared for the reality of it and this leads to pointless death, pointless suffering. But not all deaths are pointless, not all suffering is waste. You are further along on your Journey than many Trainers twice your age but make sure to take the time to stop and reflect on how far you've come.”
The clearing descended into silence once more, as the two men contemplated their thoughts. The morning sun burned pleasantly on Slate's exposed flesh, the fresh air almost searing his lungs with how clean it was. It was glorious to be alive and something Slate would never give up.
“Are we ready to face the Gym?” Slate asked quietly. Siba raised a curious eyebrow.
“Are you?” Siba asked. Slate's jaw clenched before he consciously relaxed it.
“We are,” he said confidently, iron in his voice. Siba nodded before reaching to his side. He handed Slate a bundle of clothes that the young man could not identify.
“These are for your Machop. Traditionally Machokes and Machamps wear a tribute to the master they studied under or the championship belts they've won. Your Machop will not have the latter when she evolves and as for the former....” Siba trailed off in thought.
Siba sighed. “Years ago I ran the Saffron City Gym. It has run in my family for generations, since the dawn of Kanto, and we have studied and trained alongside our Pokémon throughout our history. However, eventually I answered a call of a different nature and left the Gym to my brother Lee to run.”
The older man's face twisted unpleasantly. “I have heard many things about how the Gym is run now, how my brother has forgotten the teachings of our ancestors, abandoning their ways for sheer power and the abuse of it over others. I have heard he has ceased passing on knowledge that should be shared with those who have the will and discipline to use it. I will not permit this to stand.”
Siba stood, towering over Slate and his Pokémon. “I have trained you and your Pokémon so that you may defeat him and his Gym. I want you to show him the error of his ways, show him that he's forsaken a rich and full history that I must now end because of his arrogance and greed! Ready yourself, young Slate, for facing that Gym will be a challenge like you've never faced before. Go! And know that you and Machop wear the patronage of my ancient house!”
On the clothing in front of Slate, an emblem bearing a faded purple flower lay on a red field. Saffron.
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Time Tracker:
Days passed in Chapter: 58
Total Days: 157
Trainer Card:
Name: Slate
Occupation: Trainer, Healer, Trainee Joy, Field Healer
Ambitions:
* To find his long lost Starter
* To become a Generalist Master, a Master of all Types
Badges: Boulder(II), Cascade(II), Thunder(II)
Trophies: Inter-Regional Rookie Tournament Qualifier (3rd)
Carry Limit: 7/11
Key items: Lucky Pebble, Aron’s Rock
Pokémon: 7
Name: Scyther (F)
Type: Bug/Flying
Potential Moves: Counter, Fury Cutter, Air Slash, Focus Energy, Silver Wind, Agility, Roost, Light Screen, Double Team, Bug Buzz
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Alolan Vulpix (F)
Type: Ice
Potential Moves: Moonblast, Ice Shard, Confuse Ray, Draining Kiss, Icy Wind, Mist, Aurora Veil, Freeze Dry
Core Moves: Swift, Rest, Detect, Endure
Name: Lairon (M)
Type: Steel/Rock
Potential Moves: Dragon Rush, Iron Defense, Rock Polish, Heavy Slam, Stone Edge, Dig
Core Moves: Rest, Protect, Swift, Detect, Endure
Name: Chansey (F) (Non-Combatant)
Type: Normal
Potential Moves: Seismic Toss, Life Dew, Drain Punch, Calm Mind, Gravity, Heal Pulse, Soft-Boiled, Trailblaze
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Protect, Substitute, Endure
Name: Flaaffy (M)
Type: Electric
Potential Moves: Charge, Thunderbolt, Cotton Guard, Thunder Punch, Ice Punch
Core Moves: Rest, Endure, Swift, Protect
Name: Machop (F)
Type: Fighting
Potential Moves: Counter, Revenge, Poison Jab, Snore, Close Combat, Bulk Up
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Detect, Substitute, Endure, Protect
Name: Bulbasaur (F)
Type: Grass/Poison
Potential Moves: Ingrain, Sludge Bomb, Petal Blizzard, Trailblaze, Petal Dance, Leech Seed, Growth
Core Moves: Rest, Swift, Substitute, Protect