The AR visor flashed, and the outside world was wiped away as the advanced plastics that made up the high-tech headgear’s surface turned opaque. I always hated this part. The few seconds before the device synced my thoughts with Pikachu’s. They dragged, warping longer than they should have. Extending out in strained moments pulled taut with tension.
It was always a relief when the countdown started. When all outside worries and concerns fell away, and the only thing remaining was her, and I.
Three. Two. One. The numbers flashed on the display. I felt a tugging sensation. Something dragging on the link between my partner and myself. I let go, allowing the device to tug my consciousness overtop of my partner’s. Pikachu’s mind mingled with my own, a bundle of familiarity and warmth that stifled my nerves and fortified my determination. The visor dinged, signifying a full connection, and for the next few minutes, I became we, and two became one.
The trainer flexed, and the partner’s body reacted. No orders, no commands. Just action. The trainer had learned recently that some people couldn’t connect like this. Couldn’t become one. The partner couldn’t imagine a fate so cruel. Neither wanted to think about it.
Power suffused our limbs as the bond between us blossomed fully, syn flooding the partner’s body. The trainer eyed their opponent with a critical eye. This was not the day for simple mistakes.
Master’s Liepard stalked the battlefield across from us. She wasn’t supported, Master Raul was watching from the sidelines, but she was not to be underestimated all the same. Deft-Paw and Master Raul had been at the head of the Chroma league once, and while their glory days were well behind them, teaching rambunctious youngsters and their Pokémon definitely kept you on your toes. Deft-Paw certainly didn’t look out of shape. A tad older, maybe, then her heyday. A tad greyer. Still oh-so very dangerous.
Her effortless stalking triggered dormant instincts in the partner’s mind, and the trainer took a moment to sooth her, letting their connection envelope and dissolve the fear. We were not helpless prey, cowering in the dark before a predator. We were fighters. Warriors unmatched. And we were together.
“This is a practice battle, between Alyssa and her Pikachu and Liepard.” Master’s voice rang out through the dojo. His words were the only noise in the normally busy facility. Everyone took a break from their drilling to watch when a trainee tried to make the jump from dojo-dweller to actual competitor. Especially when that trainee wasn’t even three months into their training. “If judged worthy, they will be allowed to join the Junior Circuit,” Master Raul continued. “Alyssa, are you and Pikachu ready?”
The trainer forced her body to nod. It was difficult, sluggish. The trainer always threw her all into the link conjoining them together, leaving little for her body to use. It was an exhausting way to fight. It was a good way to get stronger.
Master Raul nodded back, “Then Liepard, test them well.”
Deft-Paw snarled.
With a fizzling crackle, barriers arose around the battlefield, cutting the trainer off physically from the partner, but leaving their bond unaffected. The generators powering the psycho-kinetic shields whirred, harnessing synergy stones to create a yellow lattice powerful enough to protect trainers and spectators alike from any stray moves.
The air thrummed.
Master Raul took a deep breath.
Both Pokémon tensed.
The crowd hunched forwards.
“Round 1,” master’s bellowing voice echoed out, slowed down.
Energy gathered in our cheeks. Electricity crackled to the ground around us.
Pools of darkness surrounded Deft-Paw.
“Fight!”
We moved. Lightning-charged agility flooded our veins. Speed beyond what was possible of the partner alone propelled us forwards.
It almost wasn’t enough.
One paw in front of the other, wheel, turn, scrape the ground to arrest momentum. Nothing less than a full force sprint got us out of range of the wicked maw emerging from our shadow. Feint Attack, the trainer faintly noted. Impossible to dodge, under most circumstances. Unless you knew it was coming. Deft-Paw always led with it, when fighting alone.
Those cruel fangs closed around nothing, but there was no surprise in the more experienced Pokémon’s gaze. Maybe a grudging acknowledgement. To Deft-Paw, our desperate dodge barely cleared the bar.
Well, time to exceed it.
Electricity crackled, filling the air. Real thunder would cross the distance between us instantly, electrifying Deft-Paw before she knew what was happening. Ours’ was not real thunder, yet. But oh did it roar like it. We released the charge filling our cheek pouches, and for a brief moment, our sensitive ears were pverwhelmed by the explosion of Electric-energy sent hurtling towards Deft-Paw.
The attack connected, coursing through our opponent and wearing away against the syn protecting her. And yet for all the power of our attack, Deft-Paw bore it with good grace. The Liepard powered through the blow, shrugging off the attack and closing the distance between us, claws glowing sharp.
An inflection point. Retreat and maintain distance? Seemed like a good way to get struck from pooling shadows. Only one way remaining then. Forwards. We charged into Deft-Paw, energy surrounding us as we plowed into our opponent at priority speed..
Now, the Liepard was surprised, her eyes widening in the brief moment before our Quick Attack brought yellow cranium crashing into purple muzzle. Shock didn’t deaden years of experience, however, and Deft-Paw’s claws lashed out all the same, cutting through the syn buffering us from her wicked strikes.
We rocked back, but now was not the time for stopping. The trainer flexed our tail, primed the attack, and swung the appendage. The partner released, sending Steel-Energy flooding through the limb at the apex of the swing. Gravity took hold, the suddenly-weighty tail descending like a meteor towards Deft-Paw.
A lesser opponent would have been cratered. Instead, a shimmering green field of energy appeared in front of our foe, repelling the attack. Bad for us, the overextension left an opening. One Deft-Paw wouldn’t miss. A similar, if smaller, field appeared in front of us, protective power focused into a single point. We couldn’t maintain it for long, and a truly powerful blow would have broken our inexpert Protect, but none came.
Instead, Deft-Paw retreated, eyeing us. We were confused. Our missed attack should have been punished.
Deft-Paw’s gaze explained all. Piercing. Evaluating. Boredom, bordering disdain. Eyes narrowed in a silent question. Was that all?
Failure loomed. The partner faltered, for a moment, and then syn flooded the bond. The trainer always gave it their all, but there was always more to give. A paradox. Distantly, we felt a body stagger, recover footing, barely. Unimportant. Not the battle in front of us.
We focused. This moment, right here. No more. This chance. No failure.
We charged. Electricity flowed through us, powering our limbs and shedding off of our advancing form in bright arcs of uncontained energy. Volt Tackle. A desperate move.
Deft-Paw dodged, no more impressed than before. It was obvious, we couldn’t cross the distance in time to catch her off guard. Except, that wasn’t the plan. We stopped. It should have been impossible. Volt Tackle was nigh-uncontrollable. Stopping on a dime was beyond even the most advanced technicians.
And then the discharge flared. One Quick Attack petered out, and another one began, along with a bone-jerking change of direction. Two moves at once, to simulate another. One handled by the partner, the other by the trainer. Two minds as one.
Deft-Paw saw the blow coming, we could tell, but blasts of electricity locked her muscles, froze her in place for just long enough. We connected, followed through. The Discharge petered out, but we didn’t need it anymore, we were inside her guard.
Two yellow paws reached out, grabbing Deft-Paw, holding her still just long enough for a glowing tail swung up in an arc to send her flying into the air. Desperately, the more experienced Pokémon tried to curl, twist, dodge out of the way, but she just didn’t have time.
Now was the moment for the real thing. The partner couldn’t pull off this attack alone. Not quickly enough to be of any real use, anyway. She wasn’t alone. The trainer was here, and the power she needed was right there, ready to use.
Electric-energy flooded our body, suffusing it, washing off of us in coursing waves. The Volt Tackle slammed into the midair Liepard, throwing her against the barrier, which crackled under the assault.
The blow was a powerful one, we knew it, could feel it in our bones. The recoil suffused us, drained our syn and energy.
And yet. And yet still, our opponent walked off the attack, with almost casual ease. The more experienced Pokémon fell, twisting to land daintily on her feet, looking hardly the worse for wear as she resumed her easy stalking gait
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Determination filled us. There was more here, further we could have gone, advantages left untaken. We didn’t have the energy to keep our assault going, forced instead to back off and martial our strength. We should have been able to take that opening, push it, brutalize our opponent until her syn was depleted and victory was assured.
The pinnacle was ever further ahead.
Deft-Paw tensed, preparing a move.
We stiffened, ready to react, and counter, but a voice rang out over the arena, calling a halt to proceedings. “And that’s round one for Alyssa and Pikachu.”
A prissy yowl called out in response, but Master Raul disarmed his partner with a chuckle. They got you good there, Liepard. “These kids are hungry, and clearly they can dish it out.” The Master’s eyes flashed. “Next round, find out if they can take it.”
When Deft-Paw’s gaze returned to us from their trainer, it was slavering.
-
I threw off the visor with an exhausted exhalation, and collapsed into the front row of the bleachers surrounding the dojo’s main arena. I felt appreciative pats on the back, heard encouraging words from the crowd, but I couldn’t spare my fellow trainees any attention. All of my focus was on collecting my breath. My vision was completely dark, and I couldn’t suck in enough oxygen to stay upright. My head rested on my arms, and I wasted the first thirty seconds of our eighty on recovering myself.
I felt a small paw on my leg, and was finally able to raise my head to look at Pikachu’s concerned expression. I smiled, and patted her on the head, eliciting crinkled eyes and a pleased “Pikaaaaa,” from my partner.
“I’m alright, just needed to catch my breath,” I ran my fingers through her soft fur, let the contact ground me. “Let’s focus on defending next round. Show that we’re not just strong on the offense.”
Pikachu nodded, determination clear in her stance. She’d weather any blow for me. And I’d be right there with her.
I spared a glance over at Raul and Liepard. He was whispering something to her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was firmly focused on Pikachu and myself, and I didn’t like the look in her eyes.
“Plus, I don’t know if Liepard will give us any openings. She’ll be coming at us hard and fast. Let’s be ready.”
-
We weren’t ready.
I’d thought we’d avoid Deft-Paw’s fastest Faint Attack. I was wrong. Should have used protect. Instead, a failed dodge ended with Liepard’s jaws clamped around our tail. I felt a sense of vertigo as we were swung once, twice, and then hurled up into the air.
The partner wanted to dodge, but the trainer knew the futility. We let loose a Thundershock, as much as we could generate in the short window we had. It was a trap. Before we could even fully let the attack go, a purple paw buried itself in our gut. Deft-Paw glowed with Dark-energy, using the power of Sucker Punch to move at speeds we couldn’t track by sight.
She didn’t let up. An Assurance from her other paw spiked us toward the ground, and now we could really feel our syn depleting. Someone staggered, but it couldn’t have been us, we were hurtling towards the ground.
And Deft-Paw was right behind us, claws glowing with shadowy energy meant to finish us off. Instinct took over, hours of practice falling, rolling, recovering. The partner spun, tail down, and landed on the springy appendage. With speed born from desperation, we pushed off of the limb, flinging ourselves to the side in an uncontrolled dive. Anything to get out of the way of that Night Slash.
We barely made it away, Deft-Paw colliding with the ground in an explosion of turf and Dark-energy.
We couldn’t see her, which meant she had a perfect opportunity for her to exploit. We wheeled, just in time to see a purple claw extending from our shadow. Predictable. Still dangerous. No time to dodge, no target to attack. Also, Sucker Punch.
It wasn’t our best option, but we formed our nascent Protect, hoping it would hold up enough to the attack. Our hopes shattered along with the green barrier buffering us from Deft-Paw’s claws, but the move was weakened, no longer strong enough to send us sprawling. Which meant we had a chance.
We took the blow in the face, and retaliated by jumping into Deft-Paw’s materializing form, Fighting-Energy cloaking our fist. Similar to Protect, Brick Break wasn’t at full effectiveness yet, but we didn’t have a better option for forcing our way through the Dark Energy swirling around Deft-Paw.
The more experienced Pokémon took the blow with an unhappy yowl, but faded back into the pool of darkness before we could do anything else.
She reformed across the battlefield, licking her paw and rubbing the saliva-coated limb over the ruffled bit of fur we’d pulled up with our static. As she patted it down, she eyed us, considering her next move. The trainer risked a glance at the timer counting down on one of the dojo’s walls. Somehow, it had only been fifteen seconds since the round started. There was no chance they were going to be able to stall this fight out. They’d have to go on the offensive. The partner could tell, the trainer didn’t have enough in the tank for a third round.
We took the initiative, releasing a barrage of Thundershocks, trying to create an opening. Deft-Paw was tiring, but not enough to make an unforced error. We’d need to create an opportunity.
With contemptuous ease, our opponent avoided the crackling energy, darting one way, then the other, closing all the while.
We backed up slowly, trying to buy time and stay at range, but in what felt like only a moment, Deft-Paw was in close enough once more for a Sucker Punch.
We felt the breath leave our lungs, and the energy disperse from our cheeks, but we were ready for it this time. Our paws closed around the Liepard’s outstretched limb, latching on before she could hurl us. Nuzzle was a weak attack, but it was also almost instant, requiring no projection, nor manipulation, just a build-up of power in our cheek pouches. In this moment, speed was everything.
We rubbed our charged cheeks across Deft-Paw’s fur, drawing up a line of raised hair and eliciting a yelp, along with a small seizing of muscles. Exactly the opening we needed.
One more Iron Tail, swung overhead and brought down like an axe on a log. Deft-Paw saw the move coming, of course, but her body betrayed her, wracked with crackling Electric-energy for a moment too long.
Our attack slammed into her skull, pinning her to the ground for a moment, before her head bounced up off of the springy turf. The trainer dug deep, feeding whatever reserves of energy she had left into the partner. Someone collapsed to their knees, hands resting against a glowing barrier.
Unimportant. Power flowed into their fists, both shining with their fighting spirit. The rest was elementary, the very basics. Jab once, twice, and finish with a rising uppercut off of a tail spring.
Deft-Paw went flying. She yowled as she was launched, and twisted, expecting further assault, but there was no follow-through. We were spent. The partner breathed heavily, trying to get just a little more oxygen into their lungs. The trainer desperately circulated their energy, looking for just a little more to give.
Our opponent landed, paws first, eyes narrowed in. Focused. Still in the fight. We braced, best as we could, but niggling fear filled us. Was this it? As far as we go? We’re we not ready?
And then a whistle from the sidelines, the buzzer ringing. “That’s it Liepard. You’re out of syn. That’s the match for Pikachu and Alyssa.”
One breath, two. And then a shout of joy, of exaltation, from two throats, acting as one.
Deft-Paw could still stand, but she was out of syn, any further attacks would hit her directly. A less powerful Pokémon would be knocked out instantly, but our opponent could keep fighting beyond her limits. Didn’t matter though. She was out of syn. That was what determined the winner of a Ferrum Battle. Winner. We’d won.
The barrier fizzled, and I slipped, almost fell forwards onto my face before I caught myself on my hands, reflexively. The AR visor cleared, its opaque plastic interface turning transparent, allowing me to see my exhausted partner using the last of her energy to run over to me. I staggered to my feet, levering huge breaths before laboriously bending over to scoop Pikachu up into my arms.
“We did it,” I croaked, my throat drier than the Silico Desert. “We did it Pikachu.”
My partner nuzzled into my chest, letting out a happy cry. “Pikaaaa.”
I rubbed her head fondly as I staggered back to the bleachers, all but falling onto one of the benches. For a few, blissful moments, it was just her, me, and sweet sweet victory.
It couldn’t last. After a few moments, heavy footsteps and soft, padding paws made me look up. Master Raul stood in front of us, Liepard at his side. There was pride in his gaze, and surly beneficence in hers. “Congratulations Alyssa,” Master Raul said with a smile. “Liepard and I agree, you are ready. On Monday, you can start competing in the junior circuit. Your trainee days are over. Welcome to the competition.
I felt a thrill run through me, but I wasn’t really feeling the excitement yet. There was no way I could, not while I was this exhausted. “Thank you, Master,” I said, with a nod, “for your guidance, up until now.”
Master Raul let out a booming laugh. “The pleasure’s been mine. You’re a once in a generation talent, Alyssa. I know someday, I’ll be proud to tell people that you trained under me.” Something settled in my gut. Something ugly. Knowledge that he might not be saying that, if only…
I felt a paw on my cheek, and looked down to see my partner’s worried gaze. We were the ones here right now. We were the ones who had made it. Best to focus on that.
“We’ll live up to those expectations, Master. I promise.”
-
The walk home was tough. I was practically out of syn, and Pikachu was too. It wasn’t anything a full night of sleep wouldn’t fix, but we needed the rest. The setting sun cast all the buildings in a reddish glow, creating glistening crimson coronas around the distant city skyline.
“Monday,” I told PIkachu, who looked up from where she was walking next to me. “After tomorrow’s over, we’ll be ready to compete. We can sign up, maybe have our first match. We’re finally at the starting line.” I fell silent, and walked for a little while, giving my thoughts time to order.
Pikachu stepped in companionable silence, willing to give me the space I needed to think. Eventually, I continued. “We’ll show them. Make sure they know that they messed up, giving us this chance. Are you ready?”
I looked down, and found my partner staring right back at me, determination in her eyes.
“Sorry, stupid question,” my partner had just as much to prove as I did. “Thanks for trusting me, Pikachu. I know it must have been hard.”
Pikachu shook her head, the scrappy Electric-type liked to remember our shared history differently than I did. I’m sure her version didn’t involve shocking me nearly as many times as my recollection contained. I couldn’t find it in me to hold it against her though.
We walked the rest of the way in companionable silence, content with each other’s company and the enduring glow of victory. My spirits dampened a bit when we passed Fe’s complex, but I tore my thoughts away from my erstwhile friend. Better not to think about her. Fe was strong. Stronger than me, though it galled me to admit it. She’d get back up again, and if she didn’t want my help doing so, fine.
It wasn’t until I was in front of the door to my own appointment that I noticed that I’d started fiddling with the thunderbolt shaped charm on my necklace. I guess forgetting about my best friend was easier said than done.
I flicked the lights on to my apartment, staring into the empty entryway. Wilma wouldn’t be along until tomorrow, she had weekends off.
I dropped my bag, and went over to the couch, gesturing for Pikachu to follow. She settled on my lap, content to let me groom her short fur with a brush. There were still things to do before bed time. Had to make dinner, had to get cleaned up.
It could wait. Right now, all I wanted to do was turn my brain off and care for my partner. Time to worry about the rest later.
