The front door rattled as Quinn let his head fall against its acrylic glass pane. “Why are there so many keys? I need to color code these or something.”

Phanpy, not listening or caring, laid down on his belly in the evening shade of the Royal Gym. Quinn didn’t blame him. This whole day had been filled with one thing and one thing only — moving.

He thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to move, seeing how all of his furniture besides his mattress had either been sold or given away in the past two weeks. Quinn even considered himself spartan in his interior design choices, but he'd vastly underestimated how much junk he had. Clothes, kitchenware, food, pictures, documents, electronics, Phanpy’s toys, shoes, toiletries, towels, linens, and so much more needed to be moved with him to Havenwood. He had to go back to the store three different times because he kept underestimating how many boxes he'd need. By the time he and Phanpy had loaded everything down the three flights of stairs into a cargo van, he was ready for a nap. No rest had come though, as they still had needed to clean the apartment, get their security deposit back from Mrs. Garcia, drive to Havenwood, unload, and get the van back to the rental company. Quinn cursed his pride for thinking he didn’t need help.

The fourth key that he tried was the winner. “Phanpy, I got it. Come on in here, I'm pretty sure I know where I put your bed.”

The bell on the inside of the door chimed as he moved into the slightly cooler reception area where all their junk was placed haphazardly. Quinn thanked his past self for turning on the AC and he found Phanpy’s bed that was half-covered with two boxes. Before he could move the boxes, Phanpy got on top of his bed and squished himself in between them, making a Phanpy sandwich with his hard hat still on. Quinn longed for the chance to lie down, but he settled for the chair behind the reception desk. He put his feet on the dust-covered desk and leaned back in the office chair. Before his feet had stopped screaming at him, he heard the door chime ring.

“Hey, when did you guys open back up?” A lanky white man with black hair, a black t-shirt, and black sunglasses walked into the room with a Vullaby on his shoulder.

Taken off guard, Quinn took his feet off the desk and sat up in his seat “Uh, we didn’t.”

“What're you talking about? The security gate is open and the door is unlocked, it doesn't get any more open than that.”

“Today is just moving day, I have a lot of crap to do before I can open this place back up. I'm Quinn, by the way.”

“Tony. Are you taking over the place? Vullaby and I've been itching to get back to training.” Tony took off his sunglasses. “Wait, are you Paul’s cousin or something? You look really familiar.”

Quinn sighed. “Something like that. But you and Vullaby are going to need to wait a little longer. This place is a mess and I'm sure a bunch of repairs are needed before I can even think of accepting new customers.”

Tony strolled over to get a better look at the rest of the gym. “What's a little dirt and dust, we're in Havenwood after all. Oh, and I'm not a new customer, I've been a member here for years. Honestly, besides all the boxes, this place doesn't look much different than when Paul was here.”

Tony’s assurances only reminded Quinn how far gone this gym was from its glory days. “Okay, well I'm glad to hear you still want to come here after the hiatus, but you're going to need to wait. I still need to get the books set up.”

“Nah man, I haven’t been able to use my membership since December. If you're still closed then I want a refund.”

“A refund? For what?”

“For my year membership! I paid for a year back in November with my buddy Nick. Ten months at 50 dollars a month, you owe me 500 dollars and I'm sure Nick will want the same refund when he hears that you're still closed.”

Finding Paul’s books shot up to the top of Quinn’s priority list as he tried to avoid dipping into his already meager funds. “Okay, slow down. If you want to train in this pigsty, while I clean, then that works for me. I just need to figure out how to turn on all the lights.”

“Good. I'm going to call Nick for a battle and lift with Vullaby while we wait. Also, the light panel is behind the bleachers.”

“Thanks. Can you make sure to battle on the practice field closest to the locker rooms? That chain curtain has the least amount of holes in it. Also, I think something died in the men’s locker room so just use the women's locker room for today.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Tony said, already making his way to the back of the gym.

Seeing the Royal Gym’s first customer in seven months gave Quinn the kick in the pants he needed. Grabbing an empty trash can by the reception desk, he made his way over toward the back of the bleachers. Trying to ignore the rancid smell that was coming from under the bleachers, he scanned the wall for the light panel that Tony had told him about. He found it on the opposite side and opened it up to see an assortment of old and new switches without any labels on them. He noted that as another project to file away for later and flipped all the switches. The wall lights that lined the upstairs track came on first, followed by smaller canned lights underneath the track to illuminate the edges of the first floor. Quinn then heard TV static coming from the weight room and the targets shift slightly in the range. All that was left was the huge high bay lights that were in the center. His eye started to twitch as he tried to not think about how much it would cost to fix those behemoths. Then he heard a small whirl of electricity and a minute later the high bay lights flickered on, eliminating the shadows cast by the wall lights.

Relieved, Quinn said a quick prayer for his wallet and moved on to picking up trash, the majority of which was on the bleachers. Food wrappers, soda cans, cigarette butts, and beer bottles took up more than half of the empty seats on the bleachers. Quinn couldn’t understand how a gym with no badges could have bleachers that looked like they'd just hosted the World Cup. “Are there really that many people who come to watch random people battle each other?” he said out loud to himself.

He was making his way back from the dumpster for the eighth time when he heard the door chime. An older black man with a graying beard walked in with a Slugma by his side. The man wore a jean jacket over a tan hoodie, and he had a Pokeball on his belt.

“Yo Nick, is Slugma ready to get his face smashed in?” Tony dropped two dumbbells that he was using for curls and Vullaby dropped a dumbbell she was holding while hovering in the air.

“Will that be after Vullaby is set on fire? Slugma can fry, roast, or bake that bird. Your choice,” Nick responded with a hearty laugh. “I'm pumped that this place is back, the fields under the freeway are so torn up that it makes Slugma basically immobile.”

“Right there with you. There's barely 10 feet of clearance there for Vullaby to fly.”

Not waiting for an introduction from Tony, Quinn set down the garbage can and headed over with his hand outstretched to the new client. “Hey Nick, I'm Quinn. Glad to hear this gym can beat out some fields in Havenwood. Do you want to warm up while I prep the field?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Nick ignored Quinn’s hand. “Oooh, look at this boujie service. When do I get a massage? It better be from someone better looking than you.” Nick turned to Slugma. “Slugma, go do some laps up top, you're going to finally have some room to move against Vullaby.” Nick plucked the Pokeball off of his belt, expanded it, and then pointed it at Slugma. In a red flash, Slugma was returned to his ball and Nick threw the Pokeball onto the track above. When the Pokeball was clear of the railing Slugma popped out onto the track and the Pokeball took the same path back to Nick like time had just reversed.

“You too, Vullaby. If you get out-sped by a slug then we might as well skip town,” Tony instructed and Vullaby flew up to the second level.

Trying to ignore the slight from Nick, Quinn called out, “Phanpy! Wake up, this field needs your expertise.”

It took a minute, but eventually a groggy Phanpy came out from the reception area to the battlefields as Quinn picked up the scattered trash. “Could you level out the east practice field and remove the rocks that are sticking out? There are some pretty big divots.”

Phanpy gave him a side eye but shuffled over to the middle of the practice field. He let out a growl as he reared up onto his hind legs before slamming his forelegs back onto the ground. Like a stone thrown in the middle of a pond, a ripple expanded in a perfect circle away from Phanpy. As the ripple expanded, rocks emerged from the ground and divots were filled with surrounding dirt. Knowing not to damage the concrete that surrounded the battlefields, Phanpy stopped the ripples from expanding past the painted boundary lines of the battlefield. He then repeated the process in the corners of the rectangle and near larger rocks that didn't fully come to the surface.

“Thanks, bud. I'll move the rocks. You should stay, though, to watch Vullaby and Slugma battle it out. It's no Vorunda Open, but this is the fun part of our new life. Soon, you’ll be in there going toe to toe.” Phanpy’s sleepiness evaporated at the thought of finally becoming a battle-tested Pokemon and he helped Quinn move the rocks off the battlefield.

By the time they finished, the orange glow of dusk coming from the second-story windows highlighted Vullaby and Slugma as they raced. Looking up at the two Pokemon triggered a yawn in Quinn as he pulled out his phone to check the time. He found out that his five-year-old phone ran out of juice quicker than he did, and made a mental note to find his phone charger after the battle between Nick and Tony.

“K guys, the field is ready when you are,” Quinn pulled down on one side of the chain hoist so that the chain curtain slowly came down from the roof, leaving about a foot for Vullaby and Slugma to walk under. There was one hole that Vullaby could have flown through but for the most part, Quinn was confident he could fix the whole curtain with pliers and some steel wire.

Nick used the same Pokeball trick to get Slugma back down to the first floor and both he and Tony took places on opposite sides of the field. “Kid, you gonna ref? Tony here is a regular at the Pokemon center.”

“It isn't my fault you're a pansy and give up so easily,” Tony retorted.

“Yeah, I'll ref. And there's no chance that either of you'll get close to a Pokemon center today. I don’t know what went on before, but if I see any staggering, I'm calling it.” Quinn lowered the rest of the curtain after Slugma and Vullaby were inside and made his way over to the referee box.

“Slugma, Nick, are you ready?”

Nick rolled his eyes as he gave a nod.

“Vullaby, Tony, are you ready?”

“You've been watching too much TV, kid. Just start the battle,” Tony responded.

Without a whistle, Quinn raised his right arm and slashed it forward. “Begin!”

Nick was the first to react. “Slugma, cover yourself with a [Smog].” Small bubbles slowly formed all over Slugma’s lava body.

“Hurry, before he hides. Vullaby, fly up and use [Flatter].” In one beat of her wings, Vullaby was 10 feet in the air and chirping a sweet melody that caught the attention of Slugma.

The Pokemon language had mystified humanity since the dawn of time and how it all worked had been the subject of countless dissertations. However, there were a couple of rules that had been proven over and over again. First, all Pokemon could perfectly communicate with other Pokemon, even across species. Second, Pokemon could perfectly understand human language. Third, while all humans could get to know a Pokemon well enough to understand their intentions, no human had been able to decipher or speak the Pokemon language. Fourth, very few Pokemon, usually Psychic-types, could speak in the human language. So while Quinn, Nick, and Tony couldn't understand exactly what Vullaby was saying, they could all tell that Vullaby was pumping up Slugma’s ego.

Caught up in his praise, Slugma perked his head up and opened his mouth to respond right as a bubble burst on his neck. Purple gas quickly expanded right into his mouth, sending him into a coughing fit as the rest of the bubbles on his body burst, obscuring him. “Slugma, you gotta get out of there or close your mouth,” Nick called out. Slugma’s head emerged enough from the cloud of gas for him to get a clean breath of air and slow his coughing.

“Not on our watch. Vullaby, fly around the cloud and use [Gust] to keep him trapped.” Vullaby looped around the battlefield with her wings inches away from hitting the chain curtain. Vullaby’s whirlwind intensified as she tightened the circle around Slugma and the gas once again covered him completely. In several seconds, the whirlwind turned into a vortex that was pelting Slugma with debris.

“Big mistake, bro. Slugma, light it up. Use [Incinerate]!” Using the gas as an accelerant, Slugma turned his once prison into a flaming vortex that exploded upward toward a vulnerable Vullaby.

The combination of wind, poison gas, and a buffed Slugma from the earlier [Flatter] created a sight that completely stunned Tony. Vullaby, not hearing any instructions from her trainer, flew directly away from the fire tornado and straight into the side curtain.

“Phanpy, use [Water Gun]! Create a barrier between Vullaby and the fire,” Quinn yelled out to an already prepared Phanpy. His [Water Gun] shot out like a cannon and even with the curtain in the way, enough water got through to protect Vullaby as the tornado quickly burned out without fuel to keep it going. Vullaby clung to the curtain with singed feathers, not risking going anywhere without her new water shield.

Before the smoke cleared, Slugma slithered away from the eye of the vortex and back to Nick. Slugma was more black than red and had taken damage from lighting up the poison gas.

“Stop the battle. We’re done. That was way too intense for a spar,” Quinn asserted.

Voicing no objections, Tony slipped under the chain curtain and ran over to Vullaby to try and encourage her down and Nick returned Slugma to his Pokeball.

“Come on, guys. You’ve got to think things through more. Tony, creating a vortex to trap Slugma could have been a smart move if you did it from a distance, but Vullaby basically created a bomb and flew over it,” Quinn explained. Tony paused his attempts to get Vullaby down as he looked back at the charred ground behind him and winced.

“And Nick, I know Slugma is made of lava, but all that gas created an explosion of fire and force,” Quinn emphasized the word “force.” “Slugma has no shell to protect him from crap like that.”

“Yeah, I got caught up in the battle. I'm going to swing by the Pokemon center to get him checked out,” Nick said, not meeting Quinn’s eyes.

Quinn was about to continue his rant about being responsible trainers when he realized that the 22-year-old “kid” was scolding two men that were twice his age. He immediately felt out of place and changed the subject. “Okay, well thanks for not canceling your memberships. I'll have this place in much better shape over the next few weeks. The hours might be weird, but I live here now, so chances are the next time you want to work out or battle, I'll be here cleaning up.”

“Thanks, Quinn,” Tony and Nick almost said in unison as Tony finally got Vullaby to come down off the curtain. Nick then proceeded to lift the curtain and Tony went back to the weight room to re-rack the dumbbells.

Phanpy gave a look of bewilderment to Quinn at the sight of the two men’s newfound respect for Quinn. He shrugged his shoulders and lauded Phanpy. “Way to be ready with that [Water Gun]. Any slower and Vullaby would have been toast. I'm sure she'll be your best friend from here on out.” Phanpy looked toward Vullaby, who was clinging to Tony’s shoulders, and then mimicked Quinn with a shoulder shrug.

Quinn was about to respond when the now-familiar door chime interrupted his train of thought. Two looming figures stood amongst the moving boxes.

“Tony, I think we need to head out,” Nick spoke urgently as he nodded his head at the two men.

“Just a sec, Slugma is fine in his…” Tony stopped mid-sentence as he looked to where Nick was gesturing and dropped the dumbbells where he was standing. “Uh… yeah, let's go.” Tony and Nick made a beeline out the back door that Quinn had kept unlocked to take out the trash.

Quinn, not missing their trepidation, cleared his throat. “Welcome to the Royal Gym,” he said with as much cheery confidence as he could muster.

“Oh, Quinn, my boy, I should be welcoming you.”