Chapter One - The Seven of Hearts
“Geez, is this guy that afraid of me or something? I swear, it’s like he wants his gym to be a secret.”
The young trainer, Makia Lymantria, grumbled as he walked down the cobbled stones of Route 17. The path was dim and constricted. To his left stood a stone wall topped with trees. To his right, a drop, a short fence of dark wood, and even more trees. He must have walked miles. And yet, nobody was around. If it weren’t for the circumstances, a trip like this could be enjoyable.
Finally, he spotted a sign of his target. Light shone through a small gap in the trees, highlighting a switchback of worn, muddy stones leading to a low clearing. At the top of the switchback, there was a gate, with an attached sign reading “Pedestrians Only!”
“So, this is Citrine Town.” Makia stood before the entrance. On the other side of the gate, he could count several buildings – all built with gray bricks and dark brown logs. Three of them were clearly labeled: the Pokemon Center, the Gym, and the town inn. The paths through the town were a group of straight lines at odd angles, eventually meeting at a small lake. Along their edges, small channels ran down into said lake. The whole town had a pleasantly damp smell. But none of that mattered. Makia knew exactly where to go.
He stuck out like a sore thumb in the town, or at least his bright green hair and scarf did. His jacket was a fleece patchwork of earthy greens and browns, and it could easily get lost against the forest backdrop. The few townspeople wore plain outfits: wooly jackets and jeans. He rushed to the gym. Sand danced along the path in his wake. Tourism could wait. It was time for him to end another leader’s reign, and he grinned as he opened the door. Then, a horrid sound struck.
“Yo! Champ in making!” shouted a man behind a counter.
Startled, Makia gave the gym guide a murderous glare. But this man was unlike any gym guide he’d seen before; he was pink-haired with a goofy grin. His wore a white dress shirt, buttoned up neatly and tucked into a baggy pair of otherwise matching dress pants - stylish, compared to the townspeople. Psychic trainers are strange, huh?
“You gotta yell like that every time someone walks in?” Makia asked.
“Oh, sorry, did I overdo it?” the guide stammered, hiding behind his counter. “I guess I got a little excited, I mean--”
“You’re giving me a headache,” Makia grumbled. “Can we get to the point?”
The gym guide went quiet. Makia crossed his arms, leaning against the wall near the door. He faked a yawn.
Finally, the guide started his explanation. “W-Well, there are a few things! First of all, to open this,” he said, gesturing to a glowing pink door behind him. The door’s hue matched his hair, and glowing white lines formed the shape of the gym’s badge on it. “You’ll need three cards. One’s red, one’s blue, and one’s green,” the motor-mouthed guide explained. “And there are five trainers scattered throughout the gym, all reached through these,” he continued, pointing to a few glowing colored tiles. “Just gotta step on them and you’ll be in a new room. Oh, and it’s one-on-one battles, until you get to the leader. Anyway, so, if you’re lucky, you get to fight three! And if you aren’t lucky, well...”
After stepping on the first panel, Makia was already gauging his opponent’s strength. Now, what did he have? Three ordinary Poke Balls. And no sense of style. A typical weak opponent.
“I’ll be your opponent!” he yelled, and Makia took a moment of thought before throwing forward a Friend Ball.
“Go! Cacturne!” Truthfully, it was Makia’s weakest Pokemon. It joined his team just a few days ago as a special treat for this gym’s leader. But this scrub would make a good test subject.
“Go! Kadabra” his opponent replied.
An unexpectedly strong pick. But it wouldn’t matter. In a short fight like this, everything would go exactly as planned.
“Are you ready?” the opponent asked.
“Of course,” Makia replied, with the biting impatience of someone who was just on hold for thirty minutes.
“Okay, then. Kadabra! Focus Blast!” his opponent commanded, and the Psychic Pokemon started to ready an attack.
Then, Cacturne rushed forward. It swung at Kadabra with a cheap, prickly clothesline. And Kadabra fell, all before even a single attack. One trainer down.
As Makia recalled Cacturne, he grinned proudly at his foe’s perplexed look. “What’s wrong? Never seen someone fight like that?” And without a reply, he was happy to continue gloating. “Heh, well, I’ll share my trade secrets. I know I can trust my Pokemon to make the right choice. Unlike you, apparently, or most other trainers.”
By this point, the young trainer was fuming. Without a word, he held up a red keycard. Makia walked forward and happily snatched it, before leaving for the next room. On the way, he got to pass the gym guide again, who looked to be recovering from the earlier shock.
The second room was a near identical repeat of room one. The only difference was his opponent’s Pokemon choice. But much like before, a well-timed Sucker Punch ended the fight in a hurry. So, on to room number three.
Room three’s opponent was a young woman with a mix of Ultra and Premier Balls. So, not the most frugal type, but someone who’s happy to use something free. That, to Makia, said his Sucker Punch trick wouldn’t work. So, it was time for a different plan.
“Bisharp!” he shouted, tossing forward another Friend Ball.
“Go, Mr. Lime!” his opponent responded. And true to that strange nickname, a shiny Mr. Mime with green accents came out.
So, his opponent would at least get a chance to attack. Makia nodded towards Bisharp, who seemed to nod back.
“Mr. Lime, Reflect!”
A light pink barrier appeared in front of the silent creature. In a vacuum, this move made sense – the barrier would slow Bisharp down, letting that Mr. Mime take a few attacks. But it was too obvious. Bisharp crossed its arms in an X shape across its chest, and light blue swords appeared in the air around it. They jumped in a circle, then vanished as Bisharp swung both arms back down to its sides. And with the power of Swords Dance, the barrier wouldn’t matter.
“Not too talkative, are you?” the woman asked.
“Oh, no, I just don’t feel the need to order my Pokemon around,” Makia replied in a huff.
“Well, then how about we see how that works for you? Dazzling Gleam!”
Far from ideal. Makia shielded his eyes, covering a wince as Bisharp fell back. But then, it charged forward, taking the mime out with a violent headbutt. Three trainers down.
“Looks like it worked better than your strategy,” Makia said, beaming.
“And it looks like you’ve won this,” the trainer replied, pulling out a green keycard.
As Makia returned to the main hall, he felt a certain peace in the air. So he looked around the room. Soon, he made a realization: that irritating gym guide had left. Well, that’s a nice break. As was the fourth fight – another trainer who easily fell to Cacturne’s Sucker Punch. But his mission didn’t give him time to relax. He stepped forth onto teleporter number five.
This room’s trainer was well-dressed, with a dark gray corduroy jacket over a yellow jacket. He had short hair, parted from the middle, and a yellow turtleneck. Something about his looks infuriated Makia, though. So, no holding back.
Before his opponent could explain a thing, Makia threw a Luxury Ball his way. “Volcarona!”
“Oh, no introductions?” the gentleman asked, shrugging. “Fine. Go, Gardevoir!”
This guy needed knocking down a peg. Time for overkill.
“Quiver Dance!”
Volcarona happily followed Makia’s command. Unlike many of Makia’s Pokemon, it had been with him nearly his whole life. Though, admittedly, much of that time was as a Larvesta. Still, if Makia were the type to have a best friend, it’d be that moth. And their synergy was perfect.
“Psyshock!”
A good counter. But it wouldn’t be enough. This time, Makia left the choice to Volcarona: attack, or build up to something even bigger. The bug rushed forward to the foe, twirling around it at lightning speed. A second Quiver Dance.
“Psyshock, again!”
Oh? Was that a hint of fear Makia picked up? He grinned, already savoring his victory. While he would’ve loved to see just how much damage Volcarona could do, it was time to end this fight.
“Flamethrower!” he yelled, and his friend seemed to move before the word even left his mouth. And that was it for the battle.
“Well… you’ve earned this, I guess,” the stylish man said, holding out the blue keycard. Makia took it without so much as looking at his foe.
Back in the lobby, it was time for a little healing break. Once he found a place to sit, he let all his Pokemon out. Then, all sorts of treats poured from his backpack. There were lemonades, water, Pokeblocks… and for himself, an apple and red tea. Though, as he sat back against the wall, watching the Pokemon munch, he couldn’t help but offer Volcarona a bite.
After that break, it was finally time to open the door. Makia stood before it and pulled all three cards from his pocket with a flourish. Then, the bright pink door glowed brightly, before vanishing a moment later.
“Hey, you made it, Makia!”
“You again? And who told you my name?”
“Oh, nobody told me. But you’re underestimating my psychic power!” the gym guide said. Then, he spun around and drew a Luxury Ball from his messenger bag.
“What, you gonna challenge me, too?”
“Well, if you want the badge, you’ll have to go through me, because…” and with arms spread wide and a goofy grin, the guide continued, “I’m the gym leader, Noah Lampert! The Psychic Phenom of Citrine Town!”
“You’re the gym leader?”
“That’s right! Had ya fooled, huh?”
Makia simply stared. Was this guy trying to drive him nuts? Who has time for this kind of nonsense?
“So if you want a badge, you’re just one six-on-six battle away! But I won’t make it too easy for you. Let me show you the true power of a psychic!”
“Fine by me. Don’t bore me too much, okay?” Makia replied, drawing a Level Ball.
“I won’t. Let’s go, Chalice!” Noah said, tossing his Luxury Ball forward.
And Makia replied “Bisharp!”
As it turned out, Chalice was an Orbeetle. Good for Noah, managing to surprise Makia early. Now, what would Orbeetle do here? Maybe try a powerful Bug-type attack? Or was this more of a support lead?
“Psychic Terrain!” Noah yelled, as though he was answering that question. And at the same time, Makia simply looked on. The room filled with a strange pink glow, and the walls seemed to contort. But he’d seen it all before. Meanwhile, Bisharp chose to rush forward, then stopped on a dime. It pivoted quickly to the left, catching Orbeetle off-guard with a blade swipe. And already, it was six to five.
“Hey, letting your Pokemon decide what to do? That’s pretty cool!”
Makia scoffed. Down a Pokemon so early, and yet Noah was so cheerful? Fine. Let’s see him keep it up when he’s handing over his badge. There was an awkward silence. Then, finally:
“Alright, Metagross, your turn!”
Oh, a real threat for once. Makia nodded to Bisharp. “Do your best.”
The scythe-armed Pokemon obliged, repeating the same attack from before. Only, this time, instead of moving to the side, it paused before rushing straight in. That did serious damage to Metagross, who replied with a slam of its heavy metal body. Bisharp fell in a hurry, but that was in line with Makia’s plan. Now, if he could just finish Metagross off…
“Let’s go, Sharpedo!”
The shark appeared from a Lure Ball. Perplexed by the Psychic Terrain, it glanced around the room. So, for once, Makia would offer a move.
“Close Combat!” he yelled. And before Metagross could get another attack off, Sharpedo pummeled it with a barrage of bites and headbutts. Five to four.
Noah winced. It took a moment before he decided on his next move. “Go! Slowbro!”
Looks like it’ll be a battle of water types. That was fine by Makia. Even with the Psychic Terrain, it wouldn’t take much to get Slowbro out of the way. And a Water type like that was the biggest threat to his beloved moth.
“Scald!”/”Crunch!”
Sharpedo rushed forward with a savage bite on Slowbro’s arm. It responded with a blast of steaming hot water. And from Sharpedo’s pained reaction, Makia could tell it was burned. So, Slowbro was that kind of foe, huh? Fine. But with Metagross down, the battle was over anyway. Sharpedo rushed in with another bite, then fell to a blast of water. Four to four. It was time to deploy the moth.
Truthfully, it was a risky move. But Slowbro’s high-temperature water couldn’t phase the moth. Then, Noah would be swept. So, it was time for the moth to dance.
Makia could tell that the scalding water stung. So after just one blast, he nodded. Volcarona obliged with a loud screeching buzz, finishing off Slowbro. Even with just one Quiver Dance, what would stop Volcarona?
“Alright, good job, now let’s go, Wobbuffet!”
Surely not that.
Surely.
Makia couldn’t help but laugh. “How’s it feel, Noah?” Makia asked, pacing to the side of the room. His arms and scarf were stretched wide behind his back, almost outlining a pair of wings. And Volcarona continued to flutter about the room, practically humming with energy.
“Huh?”
“How’s it feel to have your fate in my hands? You’re not gonna stop Volcarona now. And I mean, all you gym leaders are the same, right? Always trying to shield the Elite Four… how’s it feel to be on the other side of a hopeless fight?”
“Makia…” Noah looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s the same thing every time. Anyone who wants to teach them a lesson gets caught up with clowns like you. But Volcarona and I will put an end to that!”
“Teach them a lesson?”
“What, you don’t know what I’m talking about?” Makia asked, twirling back as he reached the room’s edge. “Fine, I’ll tell you when I win. Volcarona, let’s finish this!” “Now, Wobbuffet, Mirror Coat!”
Predictable enough. But if Noah thought it would work, he was in for a rude awakening. By now, there was nothing in the world Volcarona couldn’t take down. By now, the strategy was perfected. Let Volcarona get pumped up, then watch it go to work destroying an entire team.
The moth of flame rushed at Wobbuffet, letting out a buzz that shook the entire room. It filled with dust as photos and paintings slammed the walls. Makia stood with a smug grin, scarf fluttering behind him. The dust scratched at his nose, but he didn’t care. Badge number seven would finally be his. And from there, it was only one more badge before the Elite Four would fall, too.
When the haze cleared, though, Wobbuffet was still standing, with the largest grin imaginable. Volcarona hung in the air weakly for a few seconds, then fell back next to Makia. The prickly pear of a trainer turned his attention to the moth. He gave a ruffle and pat to the warm fuzz on its upper body. Then, he called it back into its ball.
“How…?” he mumbled. Though, in a room this small, it was still loud enough for Noah to pick up.
“You’re familiar with Focus Sashes, right?” Noah asked in a smug yet empathetic tone.
Oh, that’s a dirty trick. Time to take things seriously. Makia threw forward a ball, and from it came Absol. The scythe-horned creature swung its head around, knocking Wobbuffet out in a hurry. Three to three.
“Good work, Wobbuffet,” Noah said. “Now, Gardevoir, it’s your turn!”
Inconvenient. Absol wouldn’t be able to get a strong attack off. So, the only option was a cheap hit.
“Gardevoir, Moonblast!”/”Sucker Punch!”
As Gardevoir let loose an orb of energy, Absol hit it with a rapid headbutt. But it wasn’t enough. While Gardevoir had taken a big hit, Absol had taken an even bigger one. Two to three. Things were getting too close. Makia sent out his next Pokemon, Umbreon.
“Foul Play!”/”Moonblast!”
Before Gardevoir could let loose another devastating hit, Umbreon rushed forward and let forth a tricky kick from behind. Two to two. Noah seemed to ponder his next move for a moment. Then, he threw forward a Luxury Ball with a green mark on it. “Exeggutor, let’s go!”
“Again!”/”Giga Drain!”
Umbreon was able to pull off another dirty attack. But the attack left it wide open for Exeggutor’s energy beam.
“Again!”/”Giga Drain!”
And the same thing repeated itself. But Exeggutor wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever.
“Again!”/”Once more, Giga Drain!”
This time, Umbreon wouldn’t get hit. Two to one. By now, Makia’s heart was rapidly pounding.
“It’s down to this, Makia! Armarouge!”
If it wasn’t too close for comfort before, it was now. Makia didn’t notice it, but his breathing was heavy. He had an intense look in his wide eyes.
“You know what to do, Umbreon!” he shouted, and the black and yellow Pokemon seemed to nod back.
“Now, Armarouge! Armor Cannon!”
Exactly as predicted. Umbreon moved in close, managing to sneak in a rapid hit right before the armor’s blast. It wouldn’t be enough to knock Armarouge out – not even close – but it meant victory was still within reach. One to one.
“Cacturne, let’s go!” Makia tossed forward his final ball. His win streak was in the lap of the gods. If Noah attacked, a Sucker Punch would win. And if he didn’t, a Dark Pulse would. Everything came down to this one read.
Noah had spent the whole battle fighting trickily. So, if that pattern were to continue, he would use some kind of status move here. But, wouldn’t it be trickier if he broke that pattern? Or maybe that’s what he wants Makia to think. Finally, without a moment to spare…
“Dark Pulse!”/”Armor Cannon!”
And Cacturne fell. The final result was zero to one.
Makia moved a hand to his chest. His heart wasn’t beating so quickly anymore, but the pounding was too intense. This prompted Noah to sprint his way with a frightened face.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for Makia.
A forearm swing that could’ve could’ve knocked the scrawny “gym guide” out, had it hit, answered. “Don’t touch me!”
“Is there anything you need? You can lie down here for a bit if you need to.”
“Yeah, a rematch.”
“Er… well…” Noah stammered. “I have a strict policy about those…”
“So? I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, for your Pokemon’s well-being… I always wait a week before any rematches.”
Isn’t it an awful feeling, when you want to argue with someone but you know they’re right? In fact, that might be the first time he’s ever heard a gym leader say anything reasonable or true.
“Fine,” he replied, already moving for the door. “You better be ready.”
Noah couldn’t tell what he was getting himself into. He’d heard of Makia, but if anything, the rumors undersold just how strange this man was. But, for what it’s worth, it was a fun battle. So, time for a little nap before he cleans up the gym.
Meanwhile, Makia was already halfway to the inn. He knew he needed to keep a low profile for the next week. On the bright side, there wasn’t room to fall much further. All he needed to do was win next week, and convincingly, and he could call this the fluke it was. At least now, he could tell himself he was through the worst of it. With his win streak gone, all that pressure would vanish. So, with a week of training in the woods, it’d all be uphill from here.
“Heeeey, Mothman! Long time no see!”
I suppose there’s always room for things to get worse.
Chapter Two - The Seven of Spades
My name’s Basil Ashbore. I hope you’ve heard good things about me.
As my van clattered down the gravel stones of Route 13, I woke up to the familiar sounds of bickering from the cabin.
“I told you, we passed it five minutes ago,” said the copilot in the passenger seat. That was Aura, the more serious of my… well, calling them ‘underlings’ would be too rude, but calling them ‘employees’ feels too formal. Let’s call them accomplices!
“Okay, okay, I’m turning around!” cried the other. Ah, Bora, my beloved protege. He still had much to learn, but it amuses me when I catch hints of my tone in his voice. I felt the van veer one way, then skid sharply the other way. My pillow slid out from under my head. Was Aura’s driving style rubbing off on him, too? I asked him to take the job so I could actually sleep on the way...
I managed to nap for no more than ten more minutes before the van slid to a halt.
“Hey, Basil, we’re here!” Bora called. I kept my eyes closed, since I wanted a few more minutes of rest. I had only begun to get comfortable again, even if I had to rest my head on my hands. I hated being awoken that way.
“That won’t work, Bora,” Aura admonished. I could hear a loud sigh. “Yuki!” she shouted, and I bolted upright in terror before she could make another move. Yuki was the name of one of her Pokémon; in this case, a Froslass.
Yuki was the kind of Pokémon that could scare a ghost to death. I don’t even want to describe how scary it is being woken up by her, but I can’t help but admire Aura’s willingness to choose the most effective option.
“I’mawakeI’mawake!!” I screamed, which prompted a chuckle from Bora and a second sigh from Aura. I bolted out of the van in such a hurry that I nearly hit my head on the ceiling and then almost wiped out trying to open the door and climb through it at the same time. Once the blood returned to my face, Aura was the first one to speak.
“What’s next?” she asked. Direct as usual. I was a bit offended at how she didn’t even acknowledge how much Yuki scared me. But again, I had to respect it. She’s nothing if not dedicated to our work.
I hadn’t planned their next moves at all. If I’m being honest, they didn’t even need to come here. It would’ve been easy to have Aer, my trusty Aerodactyl, fly me instead; in fact, easier than getting a ride, given how far Citrine Town hides behind the trees lining the route. But there’s no fun in that. I racked my brain trying to remember what this town way out in the boondocks had to offer without them following me. The league challenge seemed like the only reason to visit the town.
“Maybe you two can see what kind of Pokémon there are in the Citrine Woods? Or the lake north of town? I’ve heard it has a strong Shellder population,” I proposed. Bora’s been talking for months now about wanting to train a Cloyster. “A vacation on company dime?”
“Aww, we can’t come see the gym?” Bora complained with a downtrodden frown. I was disappointed that my plan to distract him didn’t work, and I couldn’t help but try to comfort him a little bit, especially because I could feel the chills down my spine from Aura’s glare. I tried to see if she was brandishing a Poke Ball…
Those two would stick out like a sore thumb, though. If a pair of near-identical twins wasn’t unusual enough, their hairstyles were mirror images of each other’s, with Aura’s having a tassel on the left and Bora’s on the right. Their suits were perfect matches, too, with the breast of the jackets curving in the opposite directions of their tassels.
“I’d love to invite you,” I admitted as I reached for my messenger bag, “but I think if me, you, and Aura all visited Makia, it’s gonna look suspicious. I mean, then the whole thing looks organized. Which it is, I guess! But it needs to be a little subtle.”
Oh, right, I haven’t had a chance to talk about Makia yet! He’s the most entertaining person I know. His ego is about as volatile as it gets. All it takes is one small poke, and kaboom! You get the most amusing strings of insults and frustrated flailing. Conveniently for me, he’s actually the target of my current mission. Isn’t fate a wonderful thing? Sometimes I wonder if I could be any more lucky. I’m getting paid to keep my rival busy!
My reminiscing was soon interrupted. “Fine… but I want more Poke Balls,” I heard Bora demand, and I slung my bag over my right shoulder. Okay, maybe mentioning Shellder worked. I tried to hold back a sigh of relief, knowing that Aura would use the threat of Yuki even more in the future if I seemed too weak to it.
“Is ten enough?” I asked, grinning and tipping the bag back into the van. An array of balls landed with soft thuds on my makeshift bed. They were all sorts of colors – a big perk of knowing the owner of this land’s biggest manufacturer of trainer gear. Potions, balls, even Rare Candies sometimes were all free of charge!
“Oh, plenty!” I was thankful as Bora seemed to accept that answer with a grin and Aura stood down.
“Alright, see ya then!” I said, giving a wave that was probably too exaggerated. As I approached the town’s gate, I heard the twins one last time.
“Your turn to drive, Aura!” were the last words I could make out as I leapt down the switchbacks of the town’s entrance. I wondered if Bora knew what asking that would mean for him.
As I arrived in the town proper, I knew I was right on time. Noah Lampert, the town’s gym leader, gave priority to rematches, then training sessions, and saved his new challengers until the last hours of the day, with his students serving to stall if need be. The current time, according to my PDA, was about 3 in the afternoon. The gym closed at 5:00, meaning that if Makia were in his usual hurry, he would be starting his match in the coming minutes. And even if he weren’t, I’d just go enjoy a night on the lake, since I knew Noah was his next target.
I didn’t like small towns like this, anyway. I’m sure the people here were happy enough – why else would they choose to stay here? - but it wasn’t the lifestyle for me. At a certain point, you have to wonder what the point is. The amount of craftsmanship that went into their wood-trimmed waterways and sturdy brick houses seemed wasted on a town with nothing to its name but a gym and a lake. And the gym had no reason to be here, anyway. Noah was a Psychic-type specialist, yet you’d be hard pressed to find even an Abra anywhere near this town. Maybe it was a showoff’s prank. After all, the town was surrounded by forests crawling with Bug-type Pokemon, which would struggle against almost any other choice of type. Noah was known to be a little theatrical sometimes, so it only made sense.
I couldn’t help but scoff at some of the buildings I saw. The town had a Poke Mart, but it shared a building with the Pokemon Center. Of course, I doubt anyone here felt the need to shop much. Still, it’s a bit tacky, if you ask me. There was also an inn, which at least served more of a purpose than the Poke Mart. Noah was notorious for roping trainers into rematches, which also forced them to wait an entire week, and given how far away from the rest of the world this place is, it wouldn’t make much sense to leave and come back. It must be a classic small-town racket. If there was one thing the town was missing, though, it was a museum. At least there was an antique shop, which could’ve been interesting, given the history of Citrine Lake.
In fact, I still thought about the lake as I wandered around the town. There were rumors that it had the occasional Dratini, which I would leap at the chance to catch. The town was founded about seventy years ago midway through Route 17. The northern end of the route was a trading post in the foothills of the Cuarz Mountains, known for their population of Dragon-type Pokemon. I would know, of course, having spent many summers camping there. Trainers traveling the route who couldn’t handle such a Pokemon would often release them into this very lake, as the current site of Citrine Town was the route’s main rest stop. The southern section of the route was harsh, so many trainers--
My thoughts were interrupted as I spotted the sign for the gym. I was just a few feet from the entrance, meaning that were Makia to leave now, he would see me that instant. That wouldn’t do! The element of surprise is key when you’re dealing with Makia. If you give him a chance to get away, he’ll leap for it. I took a few steps back, then glanced around. Across the street from the gym, there was a small fenced-in patio attached to a tiny cafe, and as a bonus, it was obscured by shrubs.
I doubled back around to the building’s entrance. I was a little bit hungry, anyway, after that brutally long ride. A bell chimed as I opened the door, and the scent of freshly baked bread overwhelmed my senses. My stomach started to rumble. For being a place in the middle of nowhere, the food sure smelled good - I suppose because Noah spends almost his entire salary trying to keep the town alive.
I stared up at the menu for a while. It was easy to decide what I wanted. But I also needed to make sure I got something for Aura and Bora later. I guess the clerk noticed my confusion, as he asked me, “Would you like a recommendation, sir?”
“For myself, I’d like a croissant with Mago Berry jam. But I’m visiting two of my friends later, and they love icy things.”
“Icy things…” he said, looking lost in thought for a moment. “Well, you could make them an iced tea with Aspear Berries? I don’t think there’s anything more cold and refreshing than that. I think it’s best fresh, so I could sell you the tea bags?” he proposed.
Cold and refreshing sounded perfect to me. “Okay, I think I’ll have two bags for them, one of those teas for myself, and my croissant.” Before I even had time to think about the cost, he replied.
“That’ll be 280 Pokedollars.”
280? Only 280? I looked at my bill with wide, incredulous eyes. It was fifty each for the tea bags, and 180 for my food. That was ridiculous. I couldn’t abide by that. I placed 1,000 Pokedollars on the counter, and before he could question it, I retreated to the patio. “Keep the change,” I shouted, taking a seat with a perfect vantage point for the gym. The clerk looked… less happy than I’d hoped. But he’d get over it eventually, I was sure.
I drew my PDA from my pocket and idly nibbled the croissant. Let’s see what I had… two unread messages from Bora, a couple notifications about League results, and entirely too many replies to my thread on the Flying Fanatics forum, dedicated to the type of the same name. I supposed I should see what Bora had to say first.
“we made it to the lake!!” was what his first message said. The second was a selfie in which somehow he, Aura, and the lake itself were all out of focus. It was almost impressive. I tried to zoom in to see if I could make out much more. There were a couple blue blobs in the background, which I hoped were their Glaceons playing together. The thought warmed the heart, as ironic as that sounded. I expected that they’d enjoy the mild climate here, even if they’d rather be in the mountains. I’m sure it was much better than the southern end of the route, which was home to a seaside resort.
I dipped a piece of my croissant in the jam. My next bite was less sweet than I expected, but it was a welcome surprise. Most chefs don’t understand it, but sweetening the already sweet Mago Berries washes out their more subtle flavors – the hint of a slight tart bite, or the fresh floral notes. If I were of the opinion that they needed to be sweeter, I would pair them sliced with powdered sugar. I was a little annoyed that Noah was wasting a chef of this caliber’s career on gym challengers who couldn’t begin to appreciate such a thing.
After a couple bites of the croissant, I popped open the lid of my tea.The comforting autumn breeze suddenly sent chills down my spine. The fresh air of the cafe’s patio had a pleasant scent of flowers, the tea’s scent was almost medically chilly, even just sitting on my table. I was a little frightened, in all honesty, so I took a tiny, cautious sip. It almost felt like drinking an ice cream shake. I couldn’t help but give Noah credit – if this cafe was his idea, he was doing a great job with it.
Finally, after a longer wait that I expected, I spotted Makia leaving the gym. Oh, boy, did he look like he was in an even worse mood than usual. I crammed the last bit of my pastry into my mouth, then made a beeline for my target, though I took care to stay behind him until I was close enough to strike.
Once I was too close for him to escape, I called, “Heeeey, Mothman! Long time no see!” I could practically hear him slam his fists shut with rage. He started to walk faster, but I was an expert at this by now. I placed myself to his side, just barely in front of him, but too close for him to simply walk around me. Then, just to annoy him that extra little bit, I slowed down just enough to affect his pace. It’s the little touches that separate professionals from masters.
“Shut up. Don’t disgrace my day with your presence,” he growled back, as he tried to force me out of his way with his shoulder. I wasn’t expecting such aggression! I spun and stumbled back a little, and it took a few quick steps before I was back in front of him.
“Whoa, what’s got you feeling so hostile?” I asked, even though I figured the answer was obvious. “I just wanted some advice for the gym!” He shot a quick glare at me before making a show of looking at the path ahead, as though I wasn’t there. That’s when it caught my eye – the badge on his hat. It was the Unison Badge, a glittering musical note in light blue. Makia was a showoff. The moment he defeated a gym leader, he would pin their badge to his hat. Noah’s was the Perception Badge, and if Makia wasn’t wearing it…
I found his weak point.
“Oh, I see the problem~,” I said as I poked the at his Unison Badge. Even I underestimated how poorly he would take it. I saw his right shoulder drop, and in a split second I leapt backward.
“Don’t touch me!” Makia screamed. A left hook followed that could’ve taken my head off, had it connected. I barely had a moment to enjoy my victory before I had to dodge another punch. I had no choice but to run at this point. I mean, if he got arrested for this, I’d accomplish my mission, but I didn’t want to learn how those punches would feel.
“Hey, hey, when did you get so strong, Mothman?” I shouted. It was a serious question, too. He was always so scrawny. Even with my headstart, his footsteps kept getting louder and louder. I could feel myself about to tumble over if I ran any faster, but for the sake of my survival, I had to keep going. The sounds of my footsteps were like explosions in my ears. Then, I heard Makia’s footsteps vanish. I spun around, and the sight of Makia leaping in the air with his left fist cocked back greeted me.
If this was the end, at least I died doing what I loved…
A Pokemon’s loud cry came from nowhere. “WOBBUFFET!!!”
There was a flash of light and a horrible crash as I stumbled to the ground. What remained of my refreshing tea went flying through the air, and the cup went bouncing along the path before landing with a plop in a drainage channel. I wasn’t able to make out any of what else happened, but as I recovered, I saw Makia lying on the ground a surprising distance away, and Wobbuffet stood there with a goofy smile. Ah, so he must have used Counter, I thought. Maybe that punch really would’ve ended my life…
I wondered if Makia was still conscious as I lay on the ground. I just tripped, but I could still feel the sting of my scraped hands after stumbling into the gravel. I could only imagine how much worse Makia had it. Served him right, though.
I heard a man run out of the gym. “Sorry, sorry!!” he yelled, and I recognized the voice in a split second. It was Noah Lampert himself, iconic pink hair and all. He ran over to me in such a hurry that clouds of dust flew up behind him. “Are you okay?” he asked, offering a hand which I gladly took.
“I think so, what about him?” I asked as I stood, glancing over to Makia. I had to look away, though, thanks to a glare that could kill a weaker person. Noah seemed happy with my answer, though, exactly as I hoped.
“Oh, good point!” he said, sprinting to the other trainer’s left side. “Are you okay, Makia?” he asked. It impressed me that he seemed to remember Makia was left-handed; there were always rumors that he was the League’s most observant trainer, able to remember every single challenger he faced, but seeing it in action was a whole different thing.
I heard Makia mumble something to the effect of “shut up” before rolling onto his side, turned away from both Noah and I. The gym leader’s expression was somewhere between distraught and exasperated as he came back towards me.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he reiterated as he rubbed the back of his head. Wobbuffet mirrored his motions, staring down at the ground. “
“Oh, it’s alright. I don’t really know what set him off,” I lied. “I was hoping he had some advice for your gym challenge, actually.” I’m not especially interested in the league, but it was a convenient excuse to tail Makia. It just so ‘happened’ that I planned to challenge the same gyms as him, even if it meant skipping a couple of the more boring ones. Not that any of them were much of a challenge for a trainer as experienced as me.
“Oh, the gym challenge?” Noah’s eyes lit up. “Of course! I usually save those for the afternoon, but if you wanted to come in the morning, we can do yours early, since…” he trailed off, looking unsure of how to express his thoughts.
“It’s fine, I can wait! I wanted to visit the lake, anyway!” I said, waving to Noah before the conversation could drag on any longer. In all honesty, I wasn’t here for the gym challenge, but as I thought about it, I realized it was the perfect way to rub salt in Makia’s wounds. I could only imagine his reaction if I got the Perception Badge before him. I’d be able to hold it over him forever.
I savored the thought as I left, though there was one thing I overheard that made my ears perk up.
“Makia…” said Noah in a disappointed tone, “when you’re ready, I think we need to talk a little bit about your rematch.”
I could sleep well that night, knowing I completely ruined my rival’s day.
Chapter Three - The Ace of Hearts
Sometimes I wonder what I’m getting myself into with my vow to mentor any trainer who visits my gym. A promise is a promise, though.
As Basil leaves, Makia glares up at me. “What? Are you gonna make me wait even longer now?” he growls, and I can’t help but glance away for a second.
“No, no, not at all,” I reply in a quiet voice, just in case Basil was still near. “Can we talk about it in the gym?” I ask as I offer Makia my hand again.
Instead of accepting my hand, he scoffs and stands on his own. I stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before I realize he doesn’t have anything more to say with me, so I start on my way back into the gym. I can already feel my heart starting to race and my chest tightening. I don’t think he would risk trying to hurt me, but I’ve always been a bit of a people-pleaser. It stings a little when someone gets off to such a hostile start with me, especially when they’re so close to unlocking their potential.
Makia stays close behind the whole way. Wobbuffet follows, but stays far from the two of us. I can’t blame him. Makia wore a scowl that made his frustrations clear. As we enter the dining room, Wobbuffet scurries off further into my home the moment he can do so without overtaking Makia.
“Here, you can sit here,” I offer, showing Makia a chair at my dining room’s table. He sat down with a huff, staring at the doorway Wobbuffet left through. The silence is deafening, so eventually, I decide to test the waters with a question.
“Do you want something to drink? I have tea and water…” I offer.
The wait for his answer is agonizing. He seems calm enough, but I can’t help worrying that I might further upset him. His night was already off to a rough start, and I’d hate to make it worse. I’ve never been great at comforting people, but I feel I have to try in this case. I was thankful that he spoke again.
“Tamato berry tea, then. If you have it,” he replies with an arrogant smirk, like a kid in class asking a ‘gotcha’ question. It’s a bit annoying, to be honest, but fine. If he wants to test me, two can play that game.
“Northern or southern?” I ask in response. If this were a classroom, my response was the equivalent to a teacher responding with a college-level question. It’s something only a real connoisseur would care about. Tamato berries grown in the northern mountain soil are prized for their more concentrated biting taste, thanks to the drier climate, while those from the south are milder. The difference is subtle enough that only.
For a split second, Makia’s eyes shine wide with an impressed light, and I feel a wave of relief at the common ground. “I didn’t think you’d know to ask,” he admitted. “But of course, the answer’s northern. Do I look like a coward?”
I can’t help but take his response as offense. “Of-of course not! It’s an important distinction, isn’t it?” I blurt as I start to heat the kettle.
He looks amused (or perhaps smug) at my apology as I power on my kettle.“You’re pretty funny for a gym leader, so I’ll let you in on a secret: I grew up in the north.” That explains it. The two areas’ animosity over their tea was as intense as even the fiercest school rivalry. To admit you prefer the other side’s tea is roughly equivalent to treason.
“Ah, I see…” I respond. “I got a bit of a taste for spice when I was a student, and ever since then I’ve prefered the northern kind too.”
“As you should.” Makia glances at the kettle, then at me, then at the door Wobbuffet flew through, then back at the me. “So… do you let all your Pokemon wander around, or just him?”
“It depends, I guess?” I make a somewhat shruglike gesture. “When the gym is open, I’m a little more strict about it. But they like to be out after hours.” One more detail pops into my head. “They’re not really inside that much, though, since there’s a little clearing in the woods behind the gym.”
“A whole little park for them, huh?”
“Well, ‘park’ makes it sound fancy, but I guess.”
“Huh.” Makia starts fiddling with his scarf. I don’t really have anything to add, so I turn my attention back to the drinks. It isn’t until I turn my back to grab a pair of cups that I hear Makia again.
“So, are you waiting for tea before you tell me whatever it is you feel the need to say?” he asks, tapping his foot on the floor.
I was meaning to get to that, but I’m also curious about something else, and I fear that if I don’t mention it now, I’ll never remember. “Well, first, that guy outside earlier… he’s a jerk, isn’t he?”
“He’s an asshole,” Makia corrects me. “Don’t use such soft words.” I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so I feel thankful as he continues. “In fact, he’s the embodiment of everything that’s wrong with humanity.”
Hearing that kind of thing burns my heart. There’s no real way I can refute it, either. All I can muster in response is a weak “I see…”
“Oh, you think you understand. By his standards, he’s on good behavior.”
That was ‘good?’ I shudder. I didn’t even talk to him long enough to get his name, but his vibes were overwhelmingly awful. There’s only one more thing I have any desire to know. “What’s his name?”
“Basil,” Makia says.
“Well…” I glance around a little bit. First, at the condensation starting to form inside the kettle. Then, at the teacups I’ve left out on the counter. Then, back to the kettle one more time. “I’m sorry you have to deal with him, Makia. Really...”
He looked almost confused by my sympathy. “Why do you apologize so much?”
My apologies were reflexive more than anything. It took me a moment to find the right wording for my reason. “I guess it’s because I don’t think you should have to deal with being harrassed like that?”
“So?” Makia asks, his confusion turning back to annoyance. “That’s not your problem.”
If I was confused before, I’m perplexed now. Makia is far from easy to get a read on, maybe because of his past. Almost every trainer who visits my gym falls into one of two camps: the young, up-and-comers who are looking for something new to learn and the veteran trainers looking to cross a badge off their list. If I had to put Makia into one of those buckets, it’d be the former, but really, he seems to sit in an awkward middle ground. He has the strength, arrogance, and perhaps the bitter world view of a veteran, yet thanks to his age, he still has a young spark. Maybe if I keep that in mind, it’ll be easier to follow his train of thought.
I figure it’s probably for the better if that side of the conversation ends, so I turn my focus to the tea. I pour two cups to steep, and my eyes water a little from the intense spice. I place one on the table for Makia, then take a seat across from him. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair, sitting at about a 45-degree angle from the table. His scarf flutters down behind him, leaving two soft piles where it kissed the floor.
“Anyway,” I start. “I’m sure he’s staying in the inn tonight, so I wanted to let you rest in the gym for the night instead. Since... he’s probably gonna keep bothering you, right?”
I’m a little worried about offering that, and Makia’s blank stare in response doesn’t help. I can already feel the thump of my heartbeat again as I wait for his answer. I don’t want it to be obvious that I’m anxious, so I quietly inhale for a few seconds through my nose and wait with bated breath. Even looking past his Pokemon, which I found quite frightening to belong to a trainer so young, Makia and his piercing green eyes have a fiercely intimidating air.
“How thoughtful,” he starts, in a tone dripping with sarcasm. It terrifies me. “Fine, it’s not a bad idea. I never thought I’d be accepting something from this lousy league’s members, but it’s better than hearing that asshole again.”
I can feel the air rushing out of my lungs in relief. It stings that he called the league “lousy,” but I have hope that I can change that opinion. “There are a few guest rooms in the gym itself for the seasonal camps I host.” I glance down at my tea, which has turned a deep shade of orange. “They’re not being used anyway, so I’m happy to offer one.”
Makia takes a long time to reply once again. “You’re helpful for a gym leader, too, aren’t you?” he asks.
“Huh?” I stare at him with wide, dumbfounded eyes. His question feels like someone complimenting the sky for being blue. “I mean, that’s our job, isn’t it…?”
“Maybe you should tell your colleagues that, then,” he says, staring down as he stretches his wrists.
“What do you mean? Are they not helping you?” I ask. “I mean, even if they take offense to your personality, it’s still their duty.” I feel a wave of regret wash over me as I mention his personality. I shouldn’t have said it like that, right? He’s rude, sure, but I shouldn’t say he’s offensive when he’s already upset enough, even if it’s true.
“I’ve shared enough secrets today,” he replies, abruptly ending his side of the conversation. Then, he glances away with a frown. I’m worried, but a little relieved that he’s unbothered by my careless words. “You’re pretty nosy, to be frank. How about I ask the next question instead?”
Nosy? The truth stings sometimes. For better or worse, I do tend to worry a lot about other people. It’s only fair that he gets a chance to spin the table. “Sure, by all means.”
“Why are you a gym leader?” he asks.
“I was… disappointed to see what lengths people were willing to go to for success in the league. Do you know what I mean? Trainers would rush from battle to battle, never taking the time to let their Pokemon rest or connect with them. I hated seeing it. I figure… I hate the idea of being a roadblock to their journey, but I want to be a speed bump. I want their journey to be one of a trainer and their Pokemon, not one of a trainer alone. If that makes sense?”
“Then that confirms my suspicions.” For the first time I can remember, Makia is looking at me with an almost neutral expression. I’m left unsure how to feel about it, even if it beats the glares and glances he was throwing my way before. It almost strikes me as though he’s letting his guard down, if only for a moment. “I already knew why I lost today, but you’ve made it clear enough.”
“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that!-”
He cuts me off. “No, it’s what I wanted to know. I’m not the type of person to make the same mistake twice.”
Things get quiet and awkward again as I try to figure out what he’s actually talking about. I don’t think he means falling for my Focus Sash trick, since that was too obvious. And if there was one thing that stood out as I watched him challenge my gym, it was his close bond with his Pokemon. The level of trust he put into his Pokemon was more than I’d ever seen in such a young trainer. I mean, it was to the point where he didn’t even command them-
A lightbulb went off in my head once the realization finally hit me.
“I suppose that’s a noble goal, but I can’t imagine you’re getting through to that many people. There are a lot more Basils than Noahs in this world.”
“Please, don’t insult my students!” I blurt. It’s one thing to be a misanthrope, but I draw the line at implying anyone’s who’s earned my badge is anywhere near as awful as that man.
“Fine, fine, I’ll let you be naive if that’s what you prefer.” He shrugs. “Since you asked nicely and all.”
The conversation fizzles out again. I can tell I won’t be changing his mind tonight, and I know he won’t be convincing me to see things his way. Finally, after a minute or two of silence, he reaches for his tea, and I look on in horror as he completely ignores the handle.
“Wait, that’s still hot!!” I shout. He clenches the cup even more tightly in his hand with a grin that looks almost vicious. I must have looked as pale as a ghost, as he chuckles and places it back down gently after a small sip.
“Scared for my safety, Noah?” he asks in a tone that drips with arrogance. “Did you forget? I’ve spent almost my whole life with Volcarona. This kind of heat is nothing to me.” I stare at him, flabbergasted, and apparently he takes some pity on me, as he makes a point of showing me his palm. “See? Completely fine. You worry about other people too much.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Has anyone told you you’re terrifying sometimes, Makia…?”
“Oh, I love being called ‘terrifying’,” he says with a smirk. “Or ‘frightening,’ or ‘intimidating.’ You’re welcome to take your pick~”
“...I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, with a perplexed stare. “I guess I did feel like you were one of the strongest first-time challengers I’ve ever seen.”
He shrugs off my compliment, but for a brief moment I think I see a glimpse of a smile. “Anyway, while I appreciate your concern about me staying in the inn, I don’t plan on staying in your gym all week.”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t planning on that!” I realize I got too off-topic with Basil and the tea. “Actually, what I really wanted was to offer you an early rematch, if you want. Tomorrow, even.”
He looks skeptical at my reply, like I just told him I had a Magikarp to sell him. “Why the change of heart?” he asks.
“In all honesty…” It took me a second to choose which of my two reasons to share first. “I really see a lot of potential in you. I mean, you’re as young as you are, but you’ve raised a Volcarona! And if you win, it gets you away from Basil a lot sooner.”
His eyes widen a little at the compliment, then sharply narrow at the mention of Basil. “Oh, so you’re taking pity on me? I can deal with him myself,” he replies, punctuating it with a gulp of his tea.
“W-well, when you phrase it like that it sounds rude…!” I stammer.
He looks unamused by my reaction. “That’s because it is. He’s my problem, not yours.”
“Sorry…” is about all I can say.
“It’s fine, I guess,” he continues, sighing. “At least you can see that he’s an asshole, which makes you smarter than most people I’ve met.”
Is his bar really that low? “His vibes are awful. You’re telling me people don’t notice that?” I ask cautiously.
“Could be that. Or they just hate me enough to shrug it off. Tough to say, really.”
Sometimes, even when a question has an obvious answer, it gets stuck in my head. In this case, it’s asking why Makia’s convinced he’s hated, and the obvious answer is his abrasive personality, but there’s still an itch to ask. Not tonight, though, but sometime I might have to.
Makia knocks back the rest of his tea, then interrupts my reasoning. “You don’t need to think about it so hard. Anyway, I’m ready to rest for the night.”
“Oh, of course!” I stand up, realizing that I only managed to take a grand total of one tiny sip of tea during our whole conversation. At least it’d be there when I was back. “There’s a shortcut to get into the rest of the gym from here. It’s just down the hall.”
He stands up and stretches his legs, then we start down the hallway Wobbuffet wandered into. If he was waiting in there, he must have rushed away at the sound of our approach, as the hallway was empty and silent. We arrived at the back of the gym’s lobby behind the front desk.
“The rooms are all the same, but you can pick any of those three,” I offer, pointing to a set of doors on the east side of the room.
“For a gym leader, you’re pretty tolerable. And good at making tea. So, no hard feelings when our rematch comes and I crush you,” Makia says, grinning as he steps into the leftmost door.
Do I really worry about others too much?
Chapter Four - Solitaire
If you asked me to rank the places I’d least like to spend a night, a Gym Leader’s house would easily make the top three. I can’t pretend he didn’t make a good point about Basil, but I still hate the idea. It’s well past midnight and I’m wide awake. At a certain point, it makes me wonder if camping in the garden behind his house would be a better idea. With that idea bouncing around in my head, it’s only inevitable that I walk to the garden what feels like another hour later.
In comparison to the stale, dusty camp room, the backyard garden is a literal breath of fresh air. There are earthy scents of tree bark and grass, pretty ones from the flowers and berries that climb every possible avenue towards the sky, and a faint hint of burned wood. Below my feet, I can feel where the natural ground has crept over the cobblestone porch. It’s such an improvement over the cheap tile floor my room had.
Now that I’m finally free from Basil and that annoying Gym Leader, I can enjoy myself a little. As I enter the garden, I throw forward a Poké Ball. Umbreon springs from it, then rushes forward to leap onto a tree and give the full moon a gleeful glance. While I thought about letting some of my other Pokémon out to play, too, I’d rather not rouse them at such an absurd hour, with the exception perhaps of Absol (who tends to stay up until the early morning anyway).
While the garden is surrounded by dense forest, I can hear the running water of a small stream, which I assume runs into the town’s lake. A calm wind rustles the leaves above us, too, a sound just quiet enough that the distant cries of Pokémon can drown it out at times. The whole thing comes together to form a beautiful chorus.
I lie down near the base of the tree Umbreon leapt on, and I can hear him throw himself down to curl up next to me as I close my eyes. Finally, I can get some rest…