Aaron's Pokemon

Artoria (Kirlia)

Jeanne (Flaaffy)

Durvasa (Mankey)

Fish 4.6

Aaron Fulan

Petalburg City

I drifted in and out of consciousness as Larry hopped off his lapras. In my burning haze, I saw him lift out a drawer beneath one of the seats to reveal a first-aid kit. The next time I awoke, it was to him applying some topical cream on my shin that stung like all kinds of hell. Antidote, probably.

The lapras and blastoise weren't idle. They began to take us away, the trip obviously cut short. I thought I saw a wall of ice sprout between us and the tentacool bloom, maybe as much to prevent my pokemon from retaliating as to keep them from chasing us. The last thing we needed was an involved battle against however many dozens of tentacool were out there.

When I next came to, I was on shore and being carried onto a gurney. Someone, the mother, pretty sure, had gotten to my pokeballs and forcibly returned my team. I felt the soft leather of my belt being pressed into my hands. My fingers closed around it automatically.

She said something else, but I didn't understand. It all felt so murky, like I was still underwater.

That was as far as my willpower got me before I passed out.

X

The next time I returned to consciousness, I was greeted by boring, ivory-white walls.

I tried to rise and immediately felt a little queasy. The stillness was what took me aback. As far as my body remembered, I'd been on a raft at sea; suddenly not bobbing with the waves was a disconcerting experience that took a few seconds to accustom myself to.

Lucky, because a few seconds were all I had before I was tackled flat by my pokemon. Jeanne and Artoria held me down with strength far exceeding their sizes as they babbled something I wouldn't have understood even had I known pokespeak. Even Durvasa, usually the most aloof of them, sat on my stomach with an impatient glower. Theirs were a chaotic mess of emotions, from relief to anger to remorse.

I smiled and placed a hand on Jeanne and Artoria's heads. "I'm fine, guys. I remember Larry had an antidote for us ready. Guy was prepared for something like that."

"FLAAF!" Jeanne bleated out. Her tail slammed down onto my thigh, sending a painful jolt up my leg. "Flaaffy-flaaf-flaaffy! FLAAF!"

"Ow… Really, I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Flaaffy. Flaaa…"

'She is right, my lord. What you did was exceedingly foolish,' Artoria chided. Waves of disappointment and pride flowed through me in an even mix. Then indignation and disappointment as she realized I could feel that she was proud of me for acting to save someone else. 'I now see why empaths are inconvenient.'

"I'm sorry," I apologized aloud so everyone could hear. "Yes, it was stupid. Yes, Larry had a blastoise to take care of any problems like that. Yes, I jumped in anyway. I wasn't thinking. I guess… I saw a kid go overboard and… my body just moved… There wasn't any higher brain function involved."

'We are aware… And we are proud to serve a selfless lord, but… but it was scary…'

I pulled them close. "I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. On the plus side, tentacool venom isn't really life-threatening in small doses."

'That doesn't make it better. Your pain is especially revolting. I do not relish the thought of tasting it again.'

"I'm sorry," I said again.

The door opened then to admit three figures. The first was a man in a nurse's uniform who stopped to look at the chart stuck to a corkboard next to the door. The second was a woman, the mother of the two kids who decided on an evening swim. The third… The third was Norman Maple, gym leader of Petalburg City and one of the toughest trainers in Hoenn.

It struck me then. Max. May. The brunette woman who wore her hair in two, wavy pigtails. They were his family.

'I just saved Max Maple,' I thought blankly.

'You did, my lord.'

'Huh… Didn't expect that.'

'Would you have acted any differently had you known?'

'Of course not.'

'Then it is what it is.'

The nurse walked over with a clipboard. He was young but overly clinical, or perhaps intentionally so to mask his relative inexperience. "Mr. Fulan, you received a significant dose of tentacool venom last night. The antidote was administered on-site and bloodwork now shows no trace of the active chemicals in your bloodstream. You will likely still feel sore for several days and it is our medical opinion that you should utilize crutches until you no longer feel pain. Do you understand?"

"I do, nurse," I said. Then a sudden thought sent chills down my spine. "Umm… Has anyone told my mother?"

The nurse visibly faltered. "N-No, Leader Fulan has not been notified as of yet. We did not see the need as your medical bills have been paid for."

"How? I definitely don't have enough for a room at the moment, League subsidy or not."

Norman coughed. He looked… bashful… something I'd never have associated with the normally stern man. "That would be my doing, Aaron. I should have been on that raft as well but got called away on duty-"

"-to judge a pie-eating contest," his wife added. Judging by the look on her face, Norman would be sleeping on the couch for a while.

"-to judge a pie-eating contest," he admitted with a defeated sigh. "I felt we owed you this much at least."

I nodded. It would have been fine to call mom, she wasn't a monster or anything, but I could understand the reticence given her usual reputation. No one wanted to see a pissed off psychic, not without a damn good reason. Nothing terrible would happen, but she had that way of looking at you that made you feel like the scum of the earth. I still wasn't sure if sympathetic empathy was involved or not.

To be fair, I wasn't thrilled about the idea either. I'd been injured before, a burn from back when I was learning to start a campfire in trainer school. She'd been a weird mix of coldly aloof and overwhelmingly doting then. Not a word to me besides "do better next time," but the little drawer beneath my school desk had been mysteriously filled to overflowing with eleven different brands of burn cream and rawst berry extract.

The teachers also looked like they'd seen a ghost and paid a near-obsessive amount of attention to the safety portion of our curriculum afterwards. It was like she tried to overcompensate via material things because she knew she was awful at expressing herself emotionally.

"Thank you, Leader Maple," I said formally. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did. Now, I'm told you had a match scheduled with me this morning?"

I winced. That was probably out the window. "Yeah… I guess that's not happening."

"In light of the circumstances, I'll be sure to reschedule you as soon as you feel ready."

I glanced at Durvasa. He'd be the star of the show, not just because he had a type advantage and gym leaders at earlier badges were testing to see if I knew what the fuck that was, but because he was the one most in need of worthy battles. The scuffles between baby pokemon and rookie trainers at the beach were nice, but they could only teach him so much.

I met his eyes and asked an unspoken question. The wicked grin on his face told me everything I needed to know. He wasn't the one injured after all. Hell, that tiny moment of excitement probably just riled him up more.

"How about tonight?" I asked.

"You'll still be on crutches, young man."

"I will. I don't see how that's a concern. It's not my kendo that's being tested."

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to rest for a few days, dear?" Mrs. Maple asked with naked concern that I'd never seen in mom. She had a name… Carol? Cara? Catherine? Something like that…

"Absolutely," I said with a firm nod. "I can give commands just fine and more importantly, Durvasa is ready. There isn't any reason to wait."

"Well… If you're sure…"

"I am."

Norman nodded, simply accepting my decision. Pokemon trainers were akin to boxing coaches in a sense. It wasn't like we were the ones doing the fighting, short of where aura-based metaphysical connections were concerned, but there was some worry that I'd strain my leg during the excitement, especially if the battle wore on.

"Very well, I'll take some time after the gym closes for your challenge," he said. "But before that, my children would like to say something to you. Kids!"

May and Max Maple, the designated regional groupies to Ash's protag-mojo, walked in all sullen-like. It was honestly kinda cute; they looked at me with big, teary eyes as if I was a man on my deathbed. Yes, May was likely only a year or two younger than me; no, that didn't keep adult-Aaron from thinking of her as a brat.

The siblings looked at each other hesitantly. I recognized the awkward shuffling they were doing as the same one Tate and Liza did when they were in trouble and waiting for the other twin to speak first.

Finally, May bit the bullet, only for Max to echo her in turn. "We're sorry, Mr. Fulan!"

I laughed. It was honestly too funny. I wasn't "mister" anything, couldn't even grow whiskers yet, never mind a proper beard. "It's Aaron. May, right?"

"Y-Yes! And this is Max. Thank you for saving my brother."

"I think you would have been fine even if I didn't join you for an evening swim."

"Still, you moved faster than even Larry's blastoise," Mrs. Maple said with a smile. "I appreciate it. And the kids know better than to horse around on a raft, don't we?"

"Yes, mom," they chorused.

'Ah, that explains it,' I mused. I'd been wondering what sent them overboard in the first place. "Really, don't worry about it. I'm mostly better anyway."

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The children hid behind their mother. I followed their gaze to see Artoria glaring absolute murder at the young kids, spoon glowing softly in her hands. It should have been a lot more unnerving than it was, but she just looked so damn cute that it was hard to take her wrath seriously.

'They are irresponsible and could have been seriously hurt,' Artoria huffed.

I reached over and plucked the spoon from her hands. She yelped in surprise and sprawled herself over my lap, dragged along by my grip for a bit. 'They're kids, Artoria, let it go.'

'That does not excuse their behavior.'

'You mean like when you and Jeanne overate? And when you barfed all over my shirt?'

'T-That was different!'

'How?'

"No one got hurt.'

'Maybe, but it left us vulnerable in the woods for several hours. That's arguably worse, yes?'

'... yes…' she acquiesced sullenly.

'Glass houses, Artoria. I know you're upset because I got hurt, but that was my choice, not theirs. It's not like they're not repentant either. Just call it a growing moment, hmm?'

'If you say so, my lord.'

'Good,' I dragged her more fully onto my lap so I could pamper the pouting kirlia.

With that sorted, the Maple family left soon after. Norman said something about how he wouldn't be taking it easy on me, the pride of a gym leader and whatnot. I told him to bring it, because Durvasa would probably revolt had I given any other response.

All that left me with was a very boring day of hobbling to the pokemon center and getting used to crutches.

X

That evening, I stood across from Norman in the Petalburg Gym's main battlefield. It was… plain. Gym leaders often liked to add obstacles or terrain features to their fields that gave their pokemon an edge, rock, grass, and water type gym leaders especially, but Norman, true to his type, stuck to a completely barren field. He was much like mother in that regard.

He was still dressed in his gym's uniform, basically just athletic apparel with his logo on it. He had that serious look on his face that people online swore gave him "daddy energy," whatever the hell that was.

"Challenger Fulan," he called formally, voice ringing through the gymnasium. Though indoors, the bleachers could seat a solid two hundred or so. "Are you ready?"

I grinned and leaned on one of my crutches so I could wave the other at the bleachers. There was no one there, just May, Max, and their mother who I'd learned was named Caroline, but that was how I liked it. The post-match video would eventually go online, but by then, I'd be better and wouldn't have to explain to mom why I was in crutches. Hopefully.

I palmed Durvasa's ball and replied, "I am."

"Then proceed," he said to the sole gym trainer still on duty. Next to him was a baltoy providing a weak shield over the field.

The young man coughed to clear his throat and recited the usual spiel: Three on three, challenger may substitute once, so on. When he brought his arm down, we both released our first choices.

"Take the sky, taillow!" Norman shouted. A small, swallow-like bird with blue and white plumage appeared before immediately climbing into the air.

"Durvasa," I said simply, tucking my crutch briefly in my armpit to lob the ball. My sage-to-be appeared near the center of the field, as far as I was allowed to throw the ball. I'd wanted to close the distance early to capitalize on my type advantage but he'd obviously predicted that.

I should have seen it coming. This was the big disadvantage of having my team out in the open all the time after all; all my opponents knew my team composition before the battle began.

Despite my obvious disadvantage, seeing the taillow made me happy. It was proof that Norman intended to take me seriously. I had feared that he'd give me a buy since I saved his son.

I considered my options. I could use my single substitution now. Jeanne would make short work of the taillow. Its speed and maneuverability would mean fuck-all against Shock Wave. It was the smart move, probably the move Norman wanted from me. The first badge asked trainers to be able to make basic plans before coming to the field. The second tested us on basic counterplay.

"How are you feeling, Durvasa?" I asked. The real question was implied.

"Man! MAN! MANKEY!" he roared. It came out as more of a shriek, but I got the message. He wouldn't forgive me if I subbed him without even letting him fight.

I sighed and let out a soft chuckle. "Well, it's not like we have no options. Focus, Durvasa."

My mankey continued to sway back and forth, but his eyes narrowed in concentration. He'd been using Focus Energy while in motion since I caught him. It wasn't an "attack buff" in game terms, but it did make his movements a little sharper and gave his strikes a bit more intent.

"Hoh? Prepping the stage? Don't think I'll let you! Wing Attack!"

The taillow shrouded itself in white before screeching its name. It swerved into a steep dive, looking for all the world like a comet or shooting star.

To his credit, Durvasa was able to dodge the first strike thanks to his increased awareness. He ducked out of the way in a textbook boxer's bob, the lessons with Archie paying dividends now.

However, my mankey was by no means a master. He dodged the first dive fine, the second as well, but by the third, he encountered a problem: He couldn't counterattack.

He tried, dodging by the narrowest of margins in order to take that split second to swipe at the taillow's wings. If he dodged too far, he couldn't strike back before his opponent flew out of range, always with a mocking chirp. But if he waited a hair too long to evade, the taillow never failed to punish the error with a swift beat of its wings.

I watched my mankey get slapped around. He was sent rolling like tumbleweed once again. I wracked my head for something I could do here, some trick or strategy to make the taillow stay still, but there was nothing. Until now, Durvasa had gotten by on clever use of Encore to manipulate his opponent. That wouldn't help him deal with this kind of air superiority.

Durvasa wasn't a quitter. He could win, even after taking a beating like this. All he needed was one strike, one second; I knew he could make it count. I thought about having him tank the hit, but he was too light to pull it off. He'd tried a few times out of sheer frustration and ended up doing a tumbleweed impression for his trouble.

I stared out at the barren field and grinned wide. There was one thing with that kind of mass.

"Durvasa, trust me! Lie flat!"

Norman raised an eyebrow in amusement. He could see what I was doing but instead of commanding his pokemon, he let it happen.

Durvasa blinked in rapid succession. I could practically hear the gears in his fuzzy little head turning. Then he broke out into a wide grin that matched my own and flopped onto his back.

The taillow looked confused, but dove down anyway. Sure, Durvasa was only about a foot tall even when standing, and lying down didn't seem like a huge difference, but when the taillow was the same size? Those nine or ten inches meant the world to us.

The feathered menace was forced to glide closer to the ground to try and strike Durvasa. There was a natural fear of the ground, the instinctive need to pull up off the dive before it was too late. I'd never dare play this game of chicken against the likes of Winona's team, but against a second badge pokemon from a non-flying specialized gym?

I wasn't imagining things. It was slower, just a hair, but that hesitation was there.

It naturally avoided putting its head and wings near the earth as much as it could. The body and its momentum followed the head; that was the basics of basics driven into every athlete's skull. Look where you punch or throw or what have you. So when the bird instinctively tilted its head back an inch, its momentum likewise followed, taking with it much of the bite of its Wing Attack.

"Now! Ground it!" I shouted, then almost tipped over on my crutches like an idiot. Thankfully, Durvasa wasn't an empath so that didn't distract him.

"Man!" Durvasa cheered. Instead of the wings, he reached out and wrapped his arms around the taillow's spindly ankles.

Bird met floor and, like every other time in history, the floor won.

The sudden weight and drag forced the taillow to face-plant into the dirt with a squawk of surprise. Its momentum was impressive enough to keep them going even as the two pokemon dragged against the ground.

I didn't need to give any further orders. Durvasa wrapped its tail around his opponent's ankles and promptly stradled it in a full mount. Feathers and squawks of pain could be heard as he went to town on it, meting out its vengeance threefold for every strike the bird landed on him.

A red light shot out from Norman's hand and the taillow was returned. "Well done. I didn't think a mankey that young could beat a flying type. Your ability to think around a type advantage alone makes you worthy of the Balance Badge," he said, "but you have two more pokemon, don't you?"

"I do. Durvasa, you were great. Go sit in the stands and watch the following rounds."

"Man!" he protested. He did his best to show he could keep fighting by jabbing at the air in a horrible facsimile of Archie's boxing forms.

I shook my head with a rueful chuckle. "No. Sit down, Durvasa. You took several flying type attacks and I can see your knees trembling to keep you standing."

He promptly stamped his tail into the ground like a tripod. "Mankey."

Norman looked at me chidingly. "Your mankey doesn't seem to know when to quit. A common trait for the species, but nonetheless dangerous for young trainers."

"Mankey-man," my pokemon grumbled. He swayed back and forth in his best approximation of a bob and weave.

"No, sit down, Durvasa. I've seen drunkards box better than you do now," I said sharply. Our eyes met and I glared him down until I saw the defiance leave his eyes.

"Man…"

I watched him trudge over to the bleachers like a man walking to the hangman's noose. Why were all my pokemon such divas?

Still, he was off the field now.

"Challenger Fulan, do you retire your mankey for the rest of the match?" the gym trainer asked.

"I do," I told him, mostly for formality's sake seeing how everyone saw Durvasa's little tantrum.

"Then we will continue with the gym challenge. Trainers, on your marks. Release!"

Twin lights vanished to unveil a whismur and kirlia. Artoria spun her spoon around, twirling it like a conductor's baton in a display of fine motor skills. She thrusted it forward, snapping into a textbook kendo stance.

'I would have thought I would go last, my lord,' Artoria muttered in my mind.

'Aces go last in general, but Jeanne had her fun in Oldale. Durvasa's tuckered out too, even if he'll deny it. Sweep the rest of the battle if you think you're up for it,' I told her, knowing full well what that'd do to her competitive spirit.

Sure enough, her emotions flared like a bonfire. White for willpower, orange for greed. Really, my starter had to be the single most bloodthirsty kirlia alive.

'I resent that, my lord. I'm not bloodthirsty; I simply enjoy challenging myself.'

'Of course. And milotic are only slightly full of themselves. Ready?'

'Always.'

That was all the time we had for chit chat before the gym trainer started the second match. Norman clapped twice. "Start things off with Screech."

The whismur took in a deep breath before releasing a shrill, almost intolerable sound wave.

Screech, an interesting move that didn't at all work like the games. There was no such thing as a "two-stage defense drop" after all. Instead, it took the form of a visible ripple of power that was launched from the whismur's mouth. This pulse of force maintained cohesion even as it traveled half the field to where Artoria stood at the ready.

Needless to say, sound didn't actually work like that, but here we were. I chalked it up to the same bullshit that gave Jeanne's electrical attacks physical weight. "When in doubt, blame aura," was quickly becoming my personal mantra.

Artoria scoffed dismissively. The whismur was well-trained, but its attacks were slower than Jeanne's. She didn't need me to tell her what to do. Her sword glowed with pale-violet light and grew in size a bit. Light Screen, not dissimilar to psychic barriers that protected trainers in high-level matches. She stepped into the attack and dispersed the incoming wave of force with the bowl of her spoon.

"Get up close. Howl into Pound," Norman barked.

'End it quickly. Strike from behind,' I told her.

It was a short battle. The whismur psyched itself up with Howl, maybe not dissimilar to war chants that some cultures sang, before throwing itself at Artoria, feet first. To its credit, it expected to be blocked by her spoon and used it as a platform to jump off from, maintaining most of its momentum.

When it next struck, Artoria vanished in a spark of blue. Her spoon was already mid-swing when she appeared from behind.

An explosive crack filled the air as the aura she infused her sword with detonated against her opponent's skull. The sentient loudspeaker flew through the air and collapsed back on its side of the field with a deflating noise that wasn't unlike a mic drop.

"Well, maybe I should have expected that from your starter," Norman said with a rueful smile. He returned the whismur and murmured some encouragement to it before clipping the ball back to his belt. "Caroline did say your kirlia smacked a tentacool a few dozen yards. Well done."

"Thank you."

"The third pokemon was going to be a zigzagoon, but I don't think he'll be much trouble for your kirlia."

Artoria's emotional aura visibly died down a bit in disappointment. We'd had plenty of practice against the little critters in Petalburg Woods and on our way from Oldale. By now, she was understandably a bit sick of them. I knew Norman had a linoone in his elite team, one with the typical Belly Drum and Extreme Speed combo that'd swept entire battles on its own before, but I doubted we'd be seeing any of its offspring in a second badge challenge.

Something must have shown on our faces because he laughed understandingly. Rather than reach for the third pokeball on his belt, he walked over to a small cart with the other gym pokemon.

"Tell you what? I'll give two options, Aaron: One, you can battle the zigzagoon, get your badge, and be done here. Or two, you can battle something that's a bit better matched to that kirlia of yours. You lose and I'll give you the badge anyway, that trick with your mankey was enough to warrant it. But if you win, I'll throw in a useful TM. How does that sound?"

I shrugged. The crutches were a little uncomfortable to stand with, but I could bear it for a few extra minutes. In the end, it wasn't up to me. 'Artoria? What do you think?'

I didn't really need to ask. Her competitive spirit blazed like a bonfire again. She glanced at my leg for a moment, saw that I wasn't in any real pain, and held her spoon out in open challenge. 'A knight never denies the opportunity to face a worthy opponent.'

"Well, I guess that answers that," I said with a laugh, gesturing to my starter. "I think she'll pout all week if I back out."

Norman laughed along and grabbed the pokeball he'd been eyeing. "Yes, I suppose the answer is obvious. This one will do. He's quite fierce, much like your Artoria. Let's get on with it then."

Author's Note

Oof, here's half the gym battle. I had a pretty hard time striking a good balance between "gym battles are supposed to test the rookie" and "both Aaron and Norman are competent trainers." Hopefully that came through. Third match should be more fun than the second, but I wanted Durvasa to be the star this chapter.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.