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A Winkle in Reality

Let eevee evolve into sylveon and learn drain kiss PLEASE 🙏
 
Chapter 38. New
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.

Happy holidays! Last chapter of the year, as I'm taking next week off.



I paused outside the door, leaning my back against the white-painted walls for a second to try and clear my head. I could hear faint murmurs from inside, nothing distinct enough to make out but the voices were recognizable.

The walk from the Gym to the PokéCenter had happened in somewhat of a blur, lost in my thoughts as I was, yet somehow it ended up taking as long as the Gym battle itself. I didn't register most of it until the doors slid open and I was nearly pushed over by an older girl rushing through with her PokéBall.

Apparently, my match with Surge didn't have the impact that I hoped.

The entire lobby of the healing establishment was filled, a line stretching from the door to the counter as people fought to be the first to get their Pokémon checked out by the professionals. Others crowded around coffee tables and clusters of chairs on either side of the foyer, both in front and behind the staircase that led up to the rentalable rooms. A fair number of people had been at the Pewter PokéCenter, but Vermillion blew it out of the water with what looked like 50 cramped together in enough space to hold little more than half that. The smell of unwashed humans completely overpowered the usual scent of disinfectant, and it was a symphony of screaming as everyone fought to be heard.

Several large screens hung high on the walls silently, either on mute or crushed under the auditory nightmare. A video played on it, displaying a very familiar-looking arena as an Electabuzz battled against a Graveller, hammering blows into the Ground-Type until it fell onto its back, unmoving.

I felt a surge of satisfaction when I noticed that Surge's victory laugh looked less boisterous than before our match.

Oh, and a lot of people were staring at me as I crossed the threshold and started shoving my way towards the stairs, instantly giving up on asking Nurse Joy for Ash's room number and scooping up Eevee after looking at her for permission. Most of the gazes were considerate and calculating, keeping their faces blank as they studied me. Another group nodded appreciatively my way when our eyes met, one guy in his mid-thirties getting his hand slapped away when he patted me on the back, having the gall to look offended that the 13-year-old didn't like it when a grown-ass man grabbed him from behind.

I guess the sentiment was nice, but that didn't mean strangers could randomly touch me as they pleased.

And then, there was the last group. Sneers and whispers followed me through the crowd, glares and upturned noses like the owners had smelled something terrible. Sore fucking losers.

Did the fuckers sit around all day, watching other people battle, and then getting pissy when they won? No wonder a simpleton like Surge kicked their asses.

Cursing exploded behind me as I lifted my foot extra high to avoid the outstretched leg attempting to trip me, and brought my heel down hard on their toes. The dude trying to trip me yelped and windmilled his arms, falling into the others around him, much to their annoyance, as I turned around 'to apologize' and kicked him right in his good ankle.

The rabble standing around like morons laughed at the interaction, but I couldn't find the humor myself as the attention had made them close ranks and block my path.

Fine. I could scream, too.

"FUCKING MOVE!"

An awkward silence replaced the hubbub, quiet spreading from my exclamation like the ripples of a stone thrown into a calm lake. Eevee pressed her face tightly against my chest, yet, while I would've liked to think it was affectionately, I was pretty sure it was mostly because everyone was now staring at me.

On the plus side, the way to the stairs parted like I was fucking Moses.

After that, it became much easier to find an assistant and get the correct room number.

I was drawn from my thoughts as the door opened and the pink hair of a Nurse Joy stepped out and started closing the door behind her, jumping a foot in the air when she spotted me, hand flying up to clutch her chest.

"OH! Mew, you scared me! I didn't see you." I gave my best smile at her breathless chuckles, tipping my head apologetically.

"Sorry, Nurse Joy, didn't mean to lie in wait for you like that."

"Oh, no, it's fine. Did you need me for anything?"

"No, no." I denied, pointing into the room. "I know the guy."

"Ah, well then, don't let me keep you!" She smiled brightly, patting me on the shoulder. I kept myself in check since it was Nurse Joy, and she didn't deserve my issues. Glancing up and down the hallway, the healer leaned in a little closer conspiratorially. "Congratulations on the Badge, by the way. Don't tell anyone this, but while I, of course, don't condone Pokémon ending up here for a prolonged period of time, I can't deny that there is a certain sense of satisfaction in seeing Surge getting a taste of his own medicine." Thanking her for the words, she departed and left me standing like an idiot outside the room.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped in.

"Who-oh, Peri, you're done. How did it go?"

Throwing Brock a quick smile, I saw Ash sitting hunched over in a chair with a downtrodden look on his face. In front of him, lying in a human-sized medical bed with the sheets pulled up to his chest, Pikachu's ears briefly flickered at my entrance, though the Electric Mouse's eyes remained glued to the window. A couple of wires ran from under the bedding to a pair of beeping machines, yet seeing him awake and not obviously beaten to shit did a lot for my mental state.

And resting innocuously on the bedside table was a case with a big, yellow stone in it. The Thunder Stone almost had a tinge of green to it, with a darker, lightning-bolt-esque pattern in the very middle of the transparent rock. Or gem. I wasn't sure what Evolution Stones counted as. The surface gleamed in the sunlight pouring in through the large windows, almost seeming to spark as the incredible number of facets and sides constantly caught the light in new ways.

"I won."

That only got a deeper sigh from Ash. Shuffling uneasily, unsure of how to be… supportive or whatever, I moved closer to the bed. Collapsing into a free chair, I kept my hands in my pockets and jabbed my chin at the Thunder Stone. "Evolving Pikachu?"

Ash bit his lips while the Pokémon in question stared out the window. "...no, Pikachu doesn't want to. He wants to prove to Raichu and Surge that he doesn't need to evolve to win."

"I mean, it's possible," I tried to cheer him up, weirded out by the lack of an instant return to his usual, obnoxiously energetic self, "Pikachu to Raichu isn't the straight upgrade that most evolutions are, and especially not the Raichu you fought. That thing was slow as hell, and Pikachu is pretty fast, so…" I trailed off, put off by the lack of change in Ash's expression. It didn't usually take more than a couple of words for his mood to change.

"Yeah, Brock said the same," Ash sighed. Right, that made sense. We were silent for a moment while I searched for something to say.

"I did it with Hercules!" I blurted out, getting confused looks in return. "Beat Surge, I mean. I beat Surge with Hercules." I meant it as a 'ha, I've avenged you!' type thing; however, Ash simply slumped even deeper into his seat.

"Aw man, you've only had him for like two weeks and he's already stronger than Pikachu?"

I froze at the question, not knowing how to respond. My natural urge told me to say 'yes', but that didn't feel like the optimal way to cheer him up.

Thankfully, Brock was an actual human being with empathy and shit, so he quickly stepped in.

"Don't say that, Ash. First of all, it is not as simple as being stronger or weaker. Tactics and training matter just as much. Beyond that, while Hercules is an Electric-type, he's not of the Raichu line. There is a difference."

"Yeah, Ash." I did my best to support. "Listen to Brock." I shrugged at the look the Pebble Clan member gave me. I was fucking trying, give me a break.

Fuck, being nice just wasn't my thing. But, I realized, gentle consolation wasn't Ash's, either.

"You know what, I don't have time for this. I got a date to get ready for and even if I didn't, I don't want to hang around such a crybaby bitch, anyway."

Brock frowned at my words, looking ready to speak up on Ash's behalf, yet the boy himself got there first.

"I'm not a crybaby."

"Sure you are," I snorted, hamming it up, "The fuck else would you call this? Pikachu's already told you that he wants to go again, and instead of making plans, here you are, whining like a Whismur!"

"Shut up, Peri! I'm not crying!" He growled as best he could with his high-pitched voice, Pikachu squeaking in agreement.

"You are bawling like a little bitch! It's fucking sad as well, one loss and you spiral into a depression?" I shook my head mockingly, using my unwilling smirk at the emotion in his eyes to appear even more like an asshole while turning to walk back out. "Man, I thought better of you. Guess you were never going to become a Pokémon Master."

"SHUT UP!" I was grinning from ear to ear when I heard the chair tip over and hit the ground, looking over my shoulder to see Ash on his feet and pointing at me, Pikachu doing his best to match it from the bed. "I'M NOT DEPRESSED AND I WILL BECOME A POKÉMON MASTER, YOU JUST WATCH! FIRST, I'M GOING TO BEAT SURGE, AND THEN I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU, AND GARY, AND THEN THE CHAMPION! YOU HEAR ME, PERI!? PEEEERIIIIIIIII!"

His voice trailed me down the hall, the scream doing a lot to lift my earlier mood.

When in doubt, just be an asshole. It worked for me fairly often.

Yes, that was definitely the lesson to be learned from that.

For now, though, I needed to shower and be prepared for when Misty was ready. It was still a little early for dinner, but I'd rather be prepared a little before than too late.


"Hoooooot!"

I stared in mute shock at the 'speaker', gazing into the enormous, spherical, red, unblinking eyes of the bird Pokémon perched on the table. 'Spherical' was the best way to describe the Pokémon in general; its brown-feathered body, with a cream-colored belly, was as round as a ball, with no neck or head – just a pair of crimson, fist-sized orbs set in the upper part of its frame, with black makeup-esque markings around them. The lower rims of each ring had three protrusions that resembled the teeth on a gear, while the upper rims had extensions that resembled the hands of a clock, with a small, pinkish beak underneath that twitched as I looked at it. The stubby wings and three-feathered, fan-like tail protruding from its ass were unremarkable in comparison. The only reason the five-clawed foot drew my notice was that I could've sworn the Normal/Flying-Type only had one leg, yet every time I wasn't looking at them, it seemed to switch whether it was the right or left one.

Oh, and it was wearing a tiny uniform: a white T-shirt with the restaurant's name on it and a pair of orange shorts.

"Hoohoooot!"

"Stop making this weird!"

Tearing my attention away from the staring match with the Hoothoot – which I was bound to lose anyway, on account of it being an owl – I directed my focus to my companion sitting on the other side of the small table with her arms crossed, seeming distinctly displeased by my behaviour.

"Uh, right, sorry. It's just…" I trailed off, not having a clue how to begin.

"What, you've never been served by a Pokémon before?" Misty asked, leaning over to grab the menu and piece of paper hanging around the Hoothoot's neck.

"That's the one, yep, that's absolutely the reason. There's none in Pallet, and don't get me started on Orre. You're so smart for picking up on that." I shamelessly took the out. No fucking way I was going to try and explain the real reason and the existential dread it instilled in me. As I did so, I couldn't help but once again take in her appearance. Some might say that she really hadn't dressed up for the occasion – unlike me, who'd found the dress shirt and pants the Waterflower sisters had snuck into my bag – however, those people didn't know Misty very well.

Well, I didn't either, to be fair, but I was getting there.

I definitely noticed that although the pants and a short-sleeved shirt weren't that far from her usual get-up, the black pants were as tight, or even tighter, than her regular shorts, and the cleavage was a lot more pronounced – though I would never tell her that there wasn't that much to display.

I was even fairly sure she'd put on makeup. It was subtle, but her eyelashes were more prominent than usual, and her blue eyes popped as well. Hell, she might've been wearing blush. It felt good, knowing that she'd at least looked forward to our date enough to do a little extra.

"Some people think it's unhygienic or weird and have similar reactions. It's good that you don't think like that. You're getting a Wingull's Feather, by the way." She said, then closed the menu and wrote down our orders without my input.

"Sure." I didn't know what that was, but I'd give it a shot. I'd glanced at the laminated list and hadn't recognized anything other than water and lemonade, so I might as well listen to the expert. "Surprised it's your kinda thing in the first place." I mused, watching as she handed the cord holding the papers together to the owl Pokémon. I felt extreme vindication when a second, thin, pink leg shot out from under the feathers and grabbed the string before taking off with another 'Hoot', flying through a big hole in the top part of the wall that I presumed led to the kitchens.

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean!?" She asked sharply, glaring at me from where she'd been watching the Hoothoot fly with a slight smile that transformed into a snarl. I looked around, taking in the small booths with benches of brown, furry material, small Hoothoot-shaped lamps hanging over them. Feather patterns in more brown, but with blue, red, and pink mixed in, decorated the walls, while the flooring had pictures of – you guessed it – Hoothoot pasted everywhere.

There were a fair number of people besides just us, yet I couldn't help but notice that it was mostly younger children or couples on a date. I had left Eevee in Ash's room, as it was utterly impossible to get one myself with how many people there were. However, watching as other small Pokémon sat by the tables – or on them, in some cases – made it clear that I hadn't needed to bother.

It might be a nice bonding experience for the whole team, getting together for some good grub. However, I'd have to leave out Betty, which was probably for the best, as she was more likely to eat the servers than the food.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

"That's what I thought." She growled, looking away from me with a blush.

A silence fell over the table for a moment as Misty watched the Pokémon flying around, bringing orders to the tables, while I fidgeted with a napkin.

We'd spent time together before, even alone. Why was it suddenly so fucking awkward?

"Soooo, uh… how about that weather?"

I fought the urge to slam my head against the table as Misty turned to look at me incredulously.

"Seriously? How's the weather? That's the best you've got? Did you lose your balls in Cerulean?"

"Hey, I just want this to go well and shit. Fucking excuse me," I grumbled, pulling at the stupid shirt as it itched against my neck. She wasn't wrong, though. I really was doing a terrible job. It was a whole lot fucking easier to get a date than to do well on it. Turns out you needed to put in some effort.

"That shirt," I blinked, seeing Misty staring at said piece of clothing with a frown. "My sisters gave you that, didn't they? I'd recognise Giorgio's work anywhere."

It was readily apparent from her tone that she wasn't very pleased by that observation, but it was always going to happen. "Yeah, they insisted that I had something to wear for our date."

"Didn't take you long to fall in line. I'm not surprised. Everyone falls for them eventually." She refused to look at me as two Hoothoot came flying over, each carrying a tall glass filled with a light blue liquid balanced precariously onto their head. We gently relieved the Pokémon of the burden to soft, thankful hoots and Misty immediately chugged half the glass in agitation.

"It wasn't quite like that," I protested, taking a sip of my own drink while sliding one of the menus the birds left behind over to myself. It was overly sweet, in my opinion, and the Oran flavor was extremely artificial, but it could've been worse. "Honestly, I didn't see them for days after you guys left, and when I did, I went right back to hurling shit at them. Verbally, I mean, not actual-whatever." Don't bring up throwing feces on the first date, bro, what the fuck was I doing? "And I think I was doing a pretty good job at getting to them. Daisy ended up getting so angry that she released your grandpa's Gyarados to scare me and-"

"WHAT!?" The entire clientele of the Hoothoot-themed restaurant looked our way at the loud shout, only to turn away again when met with both our glares. Neither Misty nor I was the shy type, though she did lower her voice as she leaned in and hissed. "What the fuck do you mean she sent out Leviathan!? Is she fucking crazy!? That thing can, and has, killed stronger Trainers than you for being in the general vicinity!"

"Yeah, Violet and Lily weren't super impressed either, though I was a little too fucked up to appreciate it. Not because I was hurt," I quickly explained as the wrath in her eyes intensified, "No, no, she recalled it before it could do anything. No, I-..." I hesitated before surging forward. It was getting easier each time, and I'd already told her sisters. It would be weird to keep it from Misty. "Has Ash told you where I'm from? Like, before Pallet."

"You mentioned Orre a few minutes ago, so I can make a guess, but no, he hasn't." I nodded, conceding the point.

"Right, well, I'm from Orre, kinda – long story. Anyway, when I was leaving that shithole with some others I'd met and… and my Vulpix. We got intercepted by some thugs on the ocean. Don't know if Walter's told you this, but the waters between Sevii and Orre are almost as fucked up as the desert itself. Anyway, they had a Gyarados, and I was the only one who made it. So I had a… moment." It was a significantly shortened version, but it was a heavy topic. I didn't want to trauma dump too much.

"That's…" She didn't seem sure what to say, which was fair. There really weren't good words.

"It's fine, I'm over it." No, the fuck I was not, which I was sure she knew from the look she sent me, but I persevered after quickly picking something random from the menu. Flaming Tauros had to be some kinda beef-esque dish, right?. "Anyway, they felt bad about it, and we talked for a bit, getting into why they don't like battling. They wanted to tell me about your parents, but I stopped them. The two of us started that conversation, so it only felt right for us to finish it."

Once more, she appeared lost for words, though for more positive reasons, based on the pleased smile and the way she wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Tell you what, some other day, we'll share those stories." Her voice was quiet, but she didn't refuse eye contact that time.

"Oh?" I waggled my eyebrows. "Does that mean we'll have a second date?"

"Don't push it, the first one is rocky as is."

Conversation flowed more easily after that, as I regaled her with the tale of Walter and me fighting the Eevee thieves, not embellishing at all, in any way, which she clearly believed. After a bit, our orders arrived, and I was relieved to see that the stir-fry-esque dish was made with tofu and what appeared to be Ditto meat. Hopefully, anyway. Still weird, but those thing were fucking freaky and have me the creeps. According to the Professor, 'pain' wasn't quite the same for them as it was for more natural organisms.

"Saw your fight with Surge, by the way," Misty said as we dug in.

"Oh yeah, impressed?"

"More like concerned that I agreed to a date with a psycho. What was that last bit?" I grimaced, knowing what she was referring to. I didn't regret it, but it also wasn't a great look.

"The guy was pissing me off, shit talking to people way younger and less experienced than him and sending them to the PokéCenter, yet he's a shit battler himself, who flinches when pushed. Pussy." I grumbled, stabbing at my food and shoveling in a mouthful. Okay, when they wrote 'flaming', they fucking meant it. Why the fuck was it that spicy?

"1. Surge is one of the stronger Gym Leaders. Not Giovanni, Blaine, or Koga level, or even Sabrina, perhaps, but still. He's just not interested in anything he considers 'teaching', though to be fair, he didn't want to be a Gym Leader in the first place." Misty pointed out, though she didn't sound fond of the guy herself. "And 2. When you say 'people', do you mean people in general, or Ash and Pikachu?" I kept my eyes locked on my plate, refusing to give her the satisfaction. I wasn't comfortable with it myself, much less pouring out my heart.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"Careful, your tough guy image is slipping." She smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"Guess I'll have to threaten some more Gym Leaders, then." It was my turn to smirk as she rolled her eyes, picking at her noodles. Tempting Tentacruel Tentacles, if I'd read her order correctly.

Pokémon had some weird ass names. At least it was actual noodles, and not real Tentacruel. I still shivered sometimes, remembering Grant.

"I wouldn't. You'll get away with it this time, because it's Surge, and he's been even more insufferable than usual lately, due to the cruise ship." She sniffed. Something tingled in the back of my mind at the mention of a ship, and it wasn't just the PTSD.

"The cruise ship?" I asked.

"The S.S. Anne is in Kanto at the moment, down by the harbor. It's been years since she's been here, and people are excited. Though calling her a cruise ship is a bit of an understatement, she's more of an oversized, floating luxury hotel. They're having a tournament on board between every stop, and tons of Trainers are coming over, not to mention the Hoennese Trainers that stayed on after the ship left Sootopolis. Their prices are insane, both for winning and for joining. A single ticket is worth more than most Trainers make in a year, like, exuberant even by Clan standards."

Right, the ship with Cut and a shit load of battles in the games. "Well, good luck to them, but I'm-"

"-thanks, but I don't need luck since I've got actual skills and intelligence, rather than a bunch of freaks directed by an overhyped Orre thug."

I grinned despite the interruption as Misty's eyes narrowed at something over my shoulder. I didn't need to look. The smarmy voice and terrible insult gave it away.

"You sure? Don't think your grandpa's name is gonna pull the kinda weight you're used to with these people. You might be forced to rely on yourself, and that… well, at least I'll get to laugh." I smirked as a brown haired boy around my physical age walked up to the table, laughing sarcastically.

"Still with the schoolyard insults, eh? Then again, don't suppose I can expect everyone to keep up with me. Or, anyone, really." Gary-Motherfucking-Oak sneered down at me, though it lacked the heat it once had. These days, we were mostly going through the motions for the sake of fun.

Well, other than having to beat his ass for the shit he pulled outside Viridian, but it would be a semi-friendly ass kicking.

"That's true, it's hard for normal people to be that slow. They would have to put in effort."

"You wouldn't know effort. You take your fucking date to Hooters? Seriously, bro?" I twitched violently at the name I'd done my best to avoid thinking about since I saw the sign. It couldn't be a coincidence, right? Someone from my dimension must have come over before me and thought they were funny. Which they were, but fuck them.

"Uh, excuse me," Misty interjected, surprisingly politely. "Who are you and why should we care? I'm not signing autographs." Yep, thought so.

Predictably, Gary didn't miss a beat. "Who am I? I'm Gary-Fucking-Oak, that's who – future Champion in the making, genius extraordinaire. Much better question," he turned to me instead of addressing Misty directly, "is what fucking corner you picked up this street trash from? If you're strapped for cash, then call me; no need to risk every venereal disease at once."

"This," I quickly spoke up before Mt. Misty could erupt, based on the almost literal steam I could see shooting from her ears. How the fuck did I end up playing peacemaker? I was the one who fucked shit up! "Is Misty Waterflower."

I don't know why I thought that would help.

"Oh, ew, dude! A fucking Waterflower? This one doesn't even have tits like the rest!"

"THE FUCK YOU SAY!?" Misty jumped out of her chair, sending it crashing to the floor, again drawing all eyes onto us. That time, I felt a little more self-conscious about it, as I didn't want that shit either.

"OKAY! Gary, we're in the middle of something, so what do you want to fuck off?" I tried to simply cut it off there, before Gary could fire whatever nuke he'd cooked up under the pleased look on his face.

"Weren't you listening? The S.S. Anne, dipshit!" He answered his own question instantly.

Oh. That made sense.

"Nope."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" He genuinely seemed confused at my refusal. "You can't say no! Do you have any idea how much money Gra-I mean, that I spent on the tickets!? Exposure therapy time, bitch, no way out of it!"

"Oh yeah?" I looked him dead in the eyes, and whatever he saw made a hint of uncertainty flash across his face.

"Watch me."


Stones crunched against concrete under his hiking boots, the sturdy soles crushing the pebbles without issue as Brock Pebble walked down an outer street of Vermillion. The sun was setting over Sunset Port, its dying rays of red and orange bouncing off the many windows of the skyscrapers that dominated the city, coating the settlement in a fiery glow. A fresh breeze drifted in from the sea, salty and cool after a particularly hot spring day, not a trace of the trash stench that plagued even Pewter.

Say what you would about Surge – and many did – but he took Vermillion seriously, if not the Gym Leader part.

It was a wonderful evening.

Unfortunately, Brock didn't have time to enjoy it. No, he had to console the children.

Again.

As much as he'd been enjoying the last few weeks – when he wasn't worrying himself sick about the kids back home – he sometimes wished that his companions were a little older. Part of finally being able to leave for his own Trainer journey was to escape being a parent.

Instead, he'd somehow picked up three strays.

He entered an out-of-the-way training field, the type of place you wouldn't know about unless you were a native. Or was looking for a place to hide.

Or was a former Gym Leader who could ask the local authorities.

In the back of the vast plain of grass surrounded by trees and a small wall, a rapid pitterpatter of thuds rang out as a series of compressed balls of water struck several targets set up for such a purpose. Siren the Feebas was easily visible, levitating front and center as she relaunched her attack. Brock still remembered the Water-Type taking down his team with surprising competence. He'd been impressed with both Siren, for the determination, and Peri, for training such an unpopular Pokémon to a decent level in a short amount of time. It spoke well for him that he was willing to put in the time and effort.

Especially when Brock met the rest of his team.

A wide cone of small fireballs sprayed over the targets and everything in between as Betty the Titan Bagon spewed a large Ember all over the field, not caring how much she destroyed as long as her targets were among it. Knowing the almost cliché Dragon-Type, she probably enjoyed it more that way.

The second most normal member of the team, the Elekid – Hercules, if he remembered correctly – was sitting in front of a large battery that Brock recognized as rechargeable by Electric-Type Pokémon. The small humanoid was glaring at the box, clutching the two protruding prongs in its hands, before it lit up with electricity. The small frame tensed as it tried to hold it, but Hercules was eventually forced to return it to the battery when it grew too much for it, much to its whirring disappointment.

Brock didn't know much about Electric-Types, other than to throw a Ground-Type at them, but he knew Fighting-Types. His eyes lingered on the broad shoulders, the slightly longer than average legs, and the evenly distributed musculature. While it wasn't quite the monster some of Peri's others were, it was still very well suited for battling, especially the close-quarters combat Peri seemed to be grooming it for.

Sol, the genetic freak of nature Growlithe that Peri – lucky bastard – had stumbled into was on his belly in the grass, tail wagging furiously behind him. He kept himself pressed flat while ever so slowly shuffling forward, nose sniffing and mouth panting. In front of the Fire-Type was Peri's newly acquired Eevee, like the boy needed another rare Pokémon for his collection. The Normal-Type was keeping its eyes firmly locked on the canine, looking distinctly unimpressed by his efforts to slide closer. Eevee waited until Sol was almost upon it before getting up and starting to move away, leaving the Growlithe to whine pitefully at his new playmate's escape.

Mew, what Brock wouldn't give for an hour of examining Peri's team. The sheer amount he could learn about deviation within a species, and the alternate coloration – casually known as a 'shiny' Pokémon– that sometimes appeared, beggared belief. He'd been on the verge of asking so many times, but the red-haired youth was extremely defensive about his team, and understandably so. Part of being a parent was knowing when not to take a losing fight. It would just make the future harder for no improvement.

Still, even from a distance, it was evident that they were well taken care of. Their fur was smooth and even – other than Elekid's scars – Betty's and Siren's scales glistened, and if Brock wasn't mistaken from the brief glimpse he caught, Peri had picked up something for their teeth, too, as Brock didn't see any plaque buildup.

The chewable sticks, if the boy had been smart and done his research. If not, Brock would advise him to switch, at least for Sol and Betty.

And near the center of it all, sat the boy himself, trying desperately to look like he hadn't seen Brock enter. Unfortunately for him, Brock was an old hand at that game and simply walked up close and crossed his arms. He didn't fail to notice the wounded knuckles clutching a brush, or the blood staining the bark-stripped, half-ruined and deformed wood of a nearby tree, but didn't comment.

A little scary, he would admit.

Ignoring him wouldn't make him go away, though. Peri may be a master of pissing people off, but Brock had learned from Rock-Types in many ways, and his patience was legendary.

It had to be when Billy and Tilly started screaming, Timmy and Tommy were fighting, and Salvadore had somehow lit the couch on fire.

At the same time.

Peri held out his brush to Eevee in a silent offering, their gazes locking for a moment while Brock stood silently and watched. The two of them weren't familiar with each other yet, and it was an essential time in a Pokémon-Trainer relationship.

Eventually, though, Eevee cautiously moved closer. It hesitated again, just out of reach, looking back up at Peri – and even glanced at Brock, who kept himself neutral – before finally lying down in front of the boy stiffly and letting him get to work.

He truly felt bad for interrupting what was clearly a step forward for the pair, and as such, gave them a few minutes to continue. But he was there for a reason.

"You know, when Misty came back with that… polite friend of Ash and you, and said that you bailed on your date, I thought that you would be back within a couple of hours, and we could talk about it. Didn't think you would disappear for a whole day."

Peri sighed, keeping his eyes on Eevee as he slowly ran the brush through the brown fur. "Guess Misty's pissed at me, huh? Kinda just left her. With Gary, of all fucking people."

"Not as much as I'd thought. Not the greatest date of all time." Just because Brock was there to cheer the guy up didn't mean that they should completely abandon their previous rhythm. Kids got angsty if you switched up on them too much.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot I was talking to a god of charming women. Let me guess, I should scream my eternal love at her on first sight and try to propose to all the Waterflowers at once, right?"

Brock coughed awkwardly, quickly moving on. He was fully aware that he wasn't the smoothest with women, but damnit, he was trying! He'd been stuck taking care of 12 kids since puberty hit. How was he supposed to learn!? And who was going to teach him, after Flint just vanished? Grant? That's who Brock learned it from in the first place! All the old fossil could say when questioned was that 'women were less bothersome in his age' and that screaming at women used to work!

"Anyway," He hurried on, "I'm not here to lecture you, or anything. Just thought you might want to know that Ash beat Surge on his second try, with Pikachu. Took a page out of your book and outsped him. Dumb of Surge to fall for it twice, but it still happened." Peri seemed pleased at the news about Ash, though he tried to hide it, and surprised at Brock not scolding him for his admittedly immature actions.

It was a fault of his; Brock could admit that. He'd spent so much time playing parent that he sometimes looked down on those younger than him as if they were children – and Peri was a child, he would stand firm on that point, no matter how many explicit curses the boy knew or how much violence he could inflict.

But that didn't mean that he was an infant, or that Brock needed to babysit him constantly. The boy could be surprisingly mature.

"Lil' bitch stopped whining? Good, I could hear it from here. Mew damned loser, wait until I tell Gary."

Sometimes. Occasionally.

"Well, if you want to tell Gary, then you will probably need to be on the ship." He could almost smell Peri's brain frying from how hard he was trying to think of an excuse.

"We've just met back up, though! It would be a shame to part ways so soon-"

"-acutally, the rest of us got tickets as well," Brock smirked at the look of panic on Peri's face, like a Stantler in a Noctowls sight. "We ran into a couple of fans of Misty's, who had an emergency and couldn't make it, so they gave the tickets to us. They're not first class or anything, but we'll be on board. So if you really don't want to be separated…" He trailed off meaningfully, hiding his own excitement at going on the cruise. He'd heard about it as a child and had always dreamed of going on it to learn about all the foreign Pokémon there, but life had kicked him in the groin and said no. Better late than never, though.

"... thought you weren't here to lecture me."

"And I'm not," Brock assured him, taking a seat next to the boy and Pokémon, with enough distance that he didn't spook Eevee too much. "I'm not going to try to force you on the ship if you truly don't want to. You're a licensed Trainer, you can make your own decisions."

"Don't wanna."

"Okay," Brock held up his hands in surrender, "if that's all it is, then that's your choice." And with that, he let silence consume them once more, leaning back and watching the target practice. The Pokémon were doing well with the stationary goals, but they would be better served with moving ones. Brock made a mental note to suggest that Peri had them attack each other's moves.

After the boy finally cracked, of course.

"It's fucking stupid." When the words finally came, they were so quiet that Brock almost didn't hear them.

Almost.

"It's the farthest thing from stupid," he disagreed. "You experienced something terrible, and that leaves its scars."

"Yeah, almost four years ago!" The Pebble Clan member wasn't surprised at he heat behind the words. It wasn't directed at him. "It's been four fucking years since then, and I've tried to put it behind me, I've tried therapy, fuck, I've tried beating the shit out of criminals, and nothing works! I still lose my shit when I see a Gyarados or fucking run away when thinking about going out to sea! It's fucking pathetic!"

There were many ways to handle that kind of breakdown. Most were gentle and slow, coaching the person to realise the problem and potential solution themselves. It was the way Brock preferred. Things tended to stick better when you learned them yourself.

That said, the approach had to be tailored to the individual in question. And Peri was an aggressive brat that didn't really do gentle.

"It's not the most adult thing I've ever seen. Even by your low standards." He cringed internally at the offended look he got from both Peri and Eevee. He hated playing the bad guy, but necessity compelled him. "I'm mostly confused about how you think this is going to help." He gestured to the training field.

"The fuck you mean?" The older teen knew he deserved the anger behind the words, and quickly continued. He wouldn't put it past Peri to start swinging and seeing the damage he was doing to trees, Brock had a bad feeling about his chances.

"What I mean is that, what do you think staying here while we head off is going to accomplish? Do you think it's going to make you feel better? Is hiding from your problems going to make them disappear?"

"Fuck you." The boy threw the brush away in disgust after Eevee flinched a little from the increasingly forceful tugging. "I don't know, okay! I-... I don't know." Brock's heart went out to the kid, hating the uncharacteristic weakness in his voice. He'd never bought the bravado, but it was jarring to hear the absence nonetheless.

Yet he persevered.

"Of course you don't. If you knew the solution, then you wouldn't have a problem in the first place. You want to know my thoughts?" He waited for the confirmation, not wanting to push too hard either. "I think that your words to Ash apply to yourself as well. You had one bad experience – a truly terrible one – but then you stopped trying. While I wouldn't phrase it the same way as the young Oak," or say anything at all in the same way as Gary, "There is something to his words. You listed all the things you've tried, but nowhere on that list is slowly exposing yourself to build up a resistance."

The purple-eyed teenager didn't say anything in response, staring into the distance blankly while his Eevee pressed against him a little closer, despite the rough treatment. Brock suppressed a smile. Peri really had a way with Pokémon that might rival even Ash's. He would love to know what they fed the kids in Pallet.

"There are Teleporters on the ship. World-class security, literally. There are usually top notch Trainers, or even bona-fide Masters who spend years on board that ship. Chances are, you will never get as safe an opportunity again. So, it would be a shame to let it pass you by. Still, as I said, it's your choice."

"...if I go, will you promise that you'll never try to console someone with tough love ever again? Seriously, that was so fucking sad. You were as transparent as fucking glass."

"I promise." Brock chuckled, letting him have that one unopposed. He wasn't wrong anyway.

"... then fine. I'll go on the dumb ship. It's not that big of a deal." The Rock-type Trainer wasn't sure who Peri was trying to convince – though he had a fair guess – but once more let it go.

Brock smiled, reaching over and squeezing the younger boy's shoulder in support.

"It will be okay, you'll see. I promise you that nothing bad is going to happen on board the S.S. Anne."


AN: Such a nice guy, Brock, convincing Peri to face his demons head-on.

Nobody seemed to notice that when Peri was listing the Team Rocket events he remembered, the S.S. Anne wasn't on it. That's because I didn't remember that the S.S. Anne being attacked was an actual canon event and not a fanfic trope. For some reason, it just doesn't stick out in my memory.

Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
 
Huh, maybe the best way for Peri to get over his trauma is to associate beating up Team Rocket on a ship. That way very time he thinks of ships and water, he gets reminded of beating Team Rocket instead of being downed by them.
 
I like that Peri has many goals. But while he is motivated by revenge and self-improvement. Does he have any idea on what he will do after succeeding. This is the most important question he needs to answer to himself so he can start to heal.
 
Is it too fucking much to put fucking tags in a fucking fic? I would have fucking loved to know that this was going to be misery fucking porn. It would have at least been wonderful to not ruin my day with all this unnecessary torture. Fucking tags exist for a reason. Fucking hells, use them
 
Chapter 39. New
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.

And we're back at it in 2026 (Somehow. WTF happened to time?).



"Watch it!"

"Excuse you!"

"Hey, buddy, there's a line!"

"Kids these days, I swear."

I paid the grumpy people no mind as I shoved my way through the crowd, as we all headed towards the pier. Aura training hadn't quite made me into the Dragon Ball-style powerhouse I wished – yet, anyway – but keeping a constant slow circulation of it through my body did make it a lot easier to body check people out of the way.

It also made my mood worse and increased my aggression, but I doubted anyone would be able to tell that morning.

"Watch where you're going, punk-AW FUCK!" Some wannabe tough guy screamed and hopped on one foot after he tried to block me and got his toes crushed for his trouble.

Okay, so maybe a tiny bit angrier than usual, but I was having a bad fucking day already, and it was clearly the rest of the world's fault for putting me in that situation, so they should be the ones to pay.

Made perfect sense.

Behind me, Eevee dodged and weaved between calves and feet, doing her best to keep up. Her fur stood on end, her ears flat against her skull, and her eyes were wide, yet she still did her best to stay with me.

It didn't take the research I'd been doing on Eevee behaviour and care to see that she wasn't having a good time.

I wasn't sure scooping her up unceremoniously, and without warning, to dump her on my shoulder was a better choice, but it was what it was. Several people were looking at her with a little too much interest for my comfort, though if I'd been in a better state of mind, I'd have asked first instead of risking the fairly solid foundation we'd been building.

She didn't jump down, though, which was good. Her standing completely still and tense wasn't, but whatever.

I needed all the mental fortitude I could get to not embarrass myself even further as the pier came into view and the monstrosity of a ship docked there with it.

My heart dropped, and a little bile rose in my throat as my eyes scanned the dozens of floors rocking gently in the calm waters of the Vermillion port.

Fuck me. Maybe it wasn't too late to turn around and just leave. Brock could shove his advice up his ass-

"PERI, OVER HERE!"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Unfortunately, there was no getting around it when Ash was staring straight at me and screaming, waving his arms in the air furiously from where they were standing over to the side of the primary cue.

I could still leave. There was enough distance that I would be able to vanish into the crowd-

Both Misty and Gary's expressions changed as they glared at me, hands on PokéBalls and appearing entirely willing to chase me down and drag me on board.

I did my best not to slump too much as I moved over to them, bumping some more people on the way just to be a dick. I shouldn't have interfered and let them kill each other. I could handle them separately, but combined, I feared for the whole planet.

"Yo." I did my best to act nonchalant and avoid eye contact while Eevee jumped down now that she was safe to do so.

"'Yo', he says. Done changing your tampon, cry-baby bitch?"

"Fuck you!"

"You wish!" The smirk on Gary's face was real enough, yet there was a glint of hesitation in his eye that only partially dispersed when I gave him a slight nod.

Misty, on the other hand, was an unflinching mask that didn't have a single crack when I glanced at her.

"Uh, Misty, hey," Mew I wished we didn't need to talk with a whole ass audience, but there was no way I could justify putting it off, "listen, I-

"-save it. Let's just get on the Lugia-damned ship." I sighed in relief. I definitely wasn't forgiven, based on the coldness in her voice, but at least she didn't want to make it a spectacle either.

"I hate to agree, but she is right, we're about to start boarding," Gary remarked after consulting his wrist watch, which looked way fancier than I remembered. And then, he proceeded to stare at Ash, Misty, and Brock expectantly.

"What?" Ash looked down at his shirt for stains, but didn't find any. After checking over both his shoulders as well, he turned back to his rival, confused. "What!?"

"Don't you think you should get in the cue, dumbasses?" I'd almost forgotten how condescending Gary could sound. It was genuinely a talent.

"We are in the cue, Gary! Ha, who's the dumb one now!?" Ash grinned alongside Misty as he pointed at the red rope barring the way to a narrow staircase that led up to the S.S. Anne. Daring a quick peek, I looked away from the massive vessel again. Misty hadn't been kidding about it being fucking huge. The damn thing had to be almost a thousand feet long.

"OH!" Gary truly could have taken up acting. If I didn't know better, I'd say the surprise was real, if not for the gleeful maliciousness pulling at his lips. "You thought-? Haha. Hahahaha. HAHAHAHAHA!" Throwing his head back, the young Oak cackled like he'd heard the funniest joke of all time, whipping a tear away from the corner of his eyes. "Oh, that's so adorable! No, this way is for actual important people. Your entrance is over there." He pointed to the much larger ramp that led to the lower levels, in front of which several hundred people were gathered, growing increasingly rowdy as time passed. Meanwhile, there were only a little over 30 with us to the side. "Alongside the other peasants. Soooo, good luck with that."

Brock rolled his eyes while Ash stared at Gary, a look of astonishment on his face. Meanwhile, Misty was looking at me expectantly. The polite thing was to join her at the standard boarding zone, but it was a minor miracle that I hadn't shanked someone on the way there. Putting me back in an agitated crowd was not a good idea.

Some part of my mental state must have leaked into my expression, as her own face softened a little and she refrained from saying anything before grabbing Ash by the collar and beginning to drag him away.

"DAMN YOU, GARY!"

"Smell you later!"

Gary's chuckles trailed off slightly awkwardly as we resumed our wait, me doing my best to ignore the fact that I could see both ship and stairs bob up and down. At the same time, he looked increasingly uncomfortable the longer no one said anything.

"Are you-uh… are you, like, uh, okay, or whatever?" He flushed at my raised eyebrow. "It's just that, uh… I-I didn't know it was that bad, and I know that I… came on strong, or you know, a little hot… look all I'm saying is that, uh, if-if you really don't want to, then… then fuck the money, right, and-" I raised my hand to cut of his rambling as it got faster and faster.

"Dude, it's fine, I-..." Taking a deep breath, I pushed on. If Gary could apologise unpromted by anyone other than his own guilty conscience, then I could admit my faults, at least somewhat. "... you were right, okay? I've been trying to just… shove it down, ignore and deny it whenever it becomes a problem, and it's not working. I shouldn't… I shouldn't lose my shit and hide like a child whenever someone even mentions the possibility of me going on a boat. This is probably one of the most controlled environments I can start in, so… thanks. I guess."

Gary looked stunned at my words, yet he couldn't hide the wide smile that took over his whole face, his expression lighting up and softening from his customary sneer of superiority. He patted me on the back in a way that was more of a slap than anything, and tried to change the subject.

"Of course I'm right, I'm Gary-motherfucking-Oak! How have you not realised that me being right is a fact of reality?"

"Bitch please," I had no issue going back to joking, feeling equally uncomfortable myself, "you can't even wipe your ass without five people helping you. Speaking of, where are your babysitters?"

"Oh, they're taking the car back to where we're getting off. Gramp's got cash, but not that kinda cash. Can't believe those losers just got handed tickets. Fucking nonsense. How lucky can you fucking get!" Gary whined, though he would probably protest me calling it that.

"Yeah, lucky…" It was definitely just my paranoia and overall fucked headspace, but something was off about that. Weirder shit happened daily in the PokéWorld, but something about Brock's story of how they got the tickets was bothering me.

The sharp clang! of footsteps on metal pulled me from my thoughts and directed my attention to the three people walking down the ramp towards us. The two men walking behind looked like they had been pulled straight from a fetish calendar, white and blue striped T-shirts straining to contain their humongous pecs, the seams visibly straining against the meat, while the white pants groaned audibly against the person-sized quads. Dark sunglasses hid their eyes as the over seven-foot-tall men stepped onto the dock, a little white hat crowning their bald heads.

My eyes widened a little at the sight of the 10 PokéBalls they were each carrying, though it also settled my nerves somewhat – definitely not standard security.

The front man, on the other hand, was dapper as fuck. Dressed in a well-tailored, three-piece light blue suit that complemented his slicked back silver hair and carefully groomed handlebar moustache, the man screamed 'sophisticated butler' as he took out an honest-to-Mew pocket watch and checked the time, before bowing deeply to us.

"Our honoured VIPs, welcome to the S.S. Anne." Even his baritone voice was smooth, with a faint British accent like Bill's. Guess they weren't kidding about the S.S. Anne sailing all around the world. There was a nine-out-of-ten chance that his name was either Walter or Jeeves. "We thank you for choosing us, and we promise an experience unlike any other, even if you have travelled with us before. On board the S.S. Anne, we pride ourselves on constantly innovating with knowledge from around the world to create a truly unique experience. Please, this way."

With that, the fancy guy turned around and began leading the way back up to the ship, while the two sailors took up positions on either side of the entrance, with crossed arms and muscles bulging intimidatingly. Compared to the public ramp, the VIPs were like a well-oiled machine as they got into line, yet I still took a step to the side and let the others pass, Gary having to quickly step aside to avoid them when he saw me.

"Just, uh, being polite." His disbelief was palpable, but he didn't say anything, just tapping his foot impatiently as everyone else walked before us.

Eventually, there was no delay anymore, though.

My knuckles were white around the railing as I clutched it desperately, playing one foot after the other while taking deep breaths. There was no getting around being able to see water on both sides of the stairs, and I was forced to stop when a particularly strong breeze shook the rickety contraption.

Eventually, though, we made it to the top, where the others were waiting impatiently. However, they backed down at Gary's glare, allowing me a moment to recover as best I could while still breathing in the scent of seawater and my stomach flip-flopping with every minute shift of the giant vessel.

At least I hadn't had any full-blown panic attacks yet, or Nam flashbacks. I was a little bit proud of myself and my confidence in the whole endeavour grew marginally.

Step one was… okay.

"If you will follow me, I shall give you the tour and show you to your cabins. Here are your maps as we, of course, do not expect you to memorise the whole ship." The butler, or whatever he was, explained once we were all there and then led the way.

In all honesty, I didn't hear much of the tour, focused as I was on not losing my shit. What little I did pick up, though, told the tale of ridiculous opulence. Large, furry carpets covered the hallways, and artwork lined the wooden walls in gilded frames. The metal was bronze and brass, giving the whole thing an old-school hotel or mansion vibe. It was extremely silly to see on a ship, and I wondered how long it took to clean salt out of-

-Oh, shiny!

"And here we have the commercial area, or the shop, if you prefer. Here you can find everything from exclusive PokéBalls to exotic Pokémon the likes of which this region of the world has never seen. It is also where trading will be happening." That was all the spiffy tour guide said before he moved on, but it was significantly more difficult for me to drag myself away from the lit-up shelves holding all manner of goodies. My mouth started salivating slightly at the row after row of TM cases, not to mention the area to the left where I could just barely see the very top of what looked like a small Flying-Type, with a red, almost flame-like head.

If that was a Pikipek, like I thought, then they truly had explored further than most, as that was an Alolan Pokémon.

Reluctantly, I grabbed Gary by the arm and dragged him away as the group started rounding a corner, not wanting to be lost in a giant metal coffin.

Eventually, we arrived at the long corridor that held the VIP rooms and were left to our own devices after getting our keys. I raised an eyebrow at only Gary getting one, but he simply shrugged while unlocking the door.

"Getting two tickets was already a struggle; no way I could swing two rooms. Dips on the top bunk!"

I snorted, highly doubting that something that fancy would have bunk beds.

And I was very right.

Even Gary whistled as we stepped into the enormous rooms, dual king-sized beds on either side with enough room in between for four or five of me to lie down. Armchairs surrounded a low table, giant beanbags slung around. The back wall was dominated by a massive aquarium featuring various underwater plants, divided into two sections marked by a pair of plaques labelled 'fresh' and 'salt' respectively.

The entire room was more than 40 feet by 40 feet, with ample space for both our teams to stretch out. Even my oversized dumbasses would fit comfortably.

"Holy shit," I mumbled, looking around the apartment-sized area.

"Yeah, there's a reason for the price tag," Gary commented, flinging his bag carelessly on the floor and jumping into the left-most bed. Guess I was taking the right. "Also, a reason a ship this fuck-off huge only carries 1.000 people at a time. Gotta make room for Pokémon and rich pricks. By which I mean us. Here, catch."

Catching the object he flung at my head with way more force than necessary, I quirked a brow at the slim chequebook, all the notes already having the Professor's signature on it, but the space for the amount was left blank.

"We hitting the strip club?" I asked, getting a bark of laughter in return.

"I fucking wish! You think Gramps gave us the tickets so we could go on a vacation? You've been hanging out with Ash too much; I can see your brain leaking out of your ears. No, dumbass, obviously we're on the clock, how did you think I managed this? He's been banned for a decade for bothering the other guests. That's where we come in. We can't bother the guests, but we can buy scans of their Pokémon. A scrub like you doesn't have that kinda cash, hence the chequebook."

"You want me to work!? What the fuck, Gary, you sold this as a pleasure cruise with battling!" I felt bamboozled and betrayed.

"Stop being a bitch. It's the least we can do for him in return for covering the expenses. Besides, you can just lie and say they all said no; he can't fact-check it." I grumbled a little anyway, mostly because I'd feel bad if I didn't put in at least a little effort. "And yes, there is battling. Three tournaments, to be exact. 1-2 Badges, 2-3 Badges, and 3-4 Badges. Nothing beyond that, given, you know, the fact that we're on a sinkable platform and shit." I must have paled at the reminder since he hurriedly reassured me. "Not that it's going to sink, of course, because they take such good care! Fuck me, will you calm down? You're giving me anxiety. Anyway." He sat up before continuing.

"I've already signed us up for the one tomorrow. We're only allowed to compete once, some shit about 'fairness', and thought our chances were better. I'd still win the last one, obviously, but figured I'd throw a weakling like you a bone."

I frowned. "How the fuck did you do that? Don't I need to sign shit?" Seeing him attempt to whistle innocently, I narrowed my eyes. "Did you fake my signature? How the fuck did you even do that!? I thought it was connected to my PokéDex!?"

"Never mind that!" He swiftly deflected. "We're going to clean the fuck up. While they aren't as strict as Gyms, they're still going to check over our Pokémon beforehand and ban anything too strong. As rookie Trainers, we'll probably get a little more leeway than the older guys, which is great since I don't think any of our Pokémon are strong enough to get disqualified. Unless you've caught some other bullshit beyond your usual garbage?"

I shook my head. "Nah, I've only got another two, actually."

He stared at me for a moment. "Like… two good ones?"

"No, two at all. Well, three, but I gave that one away. Fuck, if you wanna be technical, I didn't even catch Eevee, Bill gave her to me."

"You've only caught one Pokémon in a month!?" Gary seemed genuinely shell-shocked. "What the fuck have you been doing!? Even the loser has done better than that!"

I shrugged, not really put off by it. I knew that the 'gotta catch them all' line of thinking was more common among Trainers who could afford the stabling, but I very much preferred having all my Pokémon with me, rather than back at the Reserve. Unless I encountered some that wanted to be relocated, or something especially rare, it would likely remain that way. "I'm picky, what can I say."

"There's picky, and then there's not even having a full team yet. And who the fuck is Bill?"

"Bill Masaki, you know, the inventor? The Professor talked about him occasionally." I threw the information out carelessly, but was forced to reevaluate my opinion of its significance when Gary scowled.

"You ran into that dickhead? Where? Why?"

Shrugging again, I saw no harm in telling the story. Bill had gotten some info that only Oak had, so it only seemed fair to return the favour.

Gary appeared very interested in the Colossal Dragonite and asked me to send the video from my camera to him so he could forward it to his grandfather himself. Still, he didn't seem pleased with me.

"What?" I asked, not really in the mood.

"It's just… Gramps and Masaki hate each other, dude. Or, hate is a strong word, but they really don't like each other after their last time working together. He won't be very happy with you selling him shit."

"Well, I'm not very happy with him either, so I guess we're even." I shot back, getting a scowl.

"Hey, Gramp's been nothing but good to you!"

"Yeah, like when he took all my money and let you train your starter behind everyone's back!"

That got a mildly conceding winch. "...okay, so he's made some mistakes, but still."

I threw my arms out, exasperated. "Why hasn't he released that video, anyway? It's been a month, the fuck is he waiting for?"

It was Gary's turn to shrug, refusing to meet my eyes while rifling through his bag. "How the fuck should I know. The old man doesn't tell me shit. He's been like that as long as I can remember, though. He likes squeezing everything out of something before he gives it over to others. Come to think of it, I think it was something similar that made Masaki and him pissed at each other."

Silence fell over the lavish room before I broke it with a sigh. Gary and I had barely made up, and we were already fighting.

"You said you wanted to check out the shop?" He nodded. "Okay, how about you head there and I'll go get the others before meeting up with you?"

I expected him to complain about involving others, yet all I got was a nod before he headed out the door. Hopefully, that meant he was trying to avoid arguing with me, not that he was already angry.

Fucking interpersonal relationships. Way more complicated than terrorist groups, somehow.

Sending Misty a message, since I trusted her to check way more than Ash, I collapsed on the vast bed and stroked Eevee's fur absent-mindedly.

"Don't suppose you have some sage advice about humans?" Evidently, she didn't, but I would take her pressing into my side.

Hearing a ping! from my PokéDex, I reluctantly got up and consulted my map on the best way to get to the top deck, where the others apparently were.

A while later, plus several random detours and a near fist fight with some fucking snob that didn't believe that I belonged in the VIP area and thought I was a thief, I finally stepped foot on the top deck.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, yet somehow it was exactly that. A massive pool dominated the front portion of the deck, lined with chairs and tables for the bathers and a large bar and grill to the side. People and Pokémon were already splashing around in the water, and as advertised, there were plenty of foreign Pokémon to be found. A medium-sized penguin with yellow ridges on its head, a Prinplup, bounced on the diving board a couple of times before doing a perfect impression of a missile into the pool. The waves washed over a Poliwrath and a massive green bipedal toad with weird orange lumps on its body that I recognised as a Shiny Seismitoad as they swam laps, weaving around an orange otter with two tails and what looked like a floating device around its neck.

There were over a dozen others that sent my Pokémon fan senses into overdrive. It was sometimes easy to forget, but Pokémon were amazing creatures, and seeing so many new ones for the first time was incredible. Yet the back half of the ship swiftly grabbed my attention.

Compared to the pool, it was pretty barren, but that was clearly the point. Massive rows of cushioned benches stood in a square, and as I moved closer, I saw that in the middle, there was another square. It was an expansive platform raised over the deck, literally, I noticed, as it appeared to actually be floating. Likely to stop Ground-Type moves from fucking up the ship itself. It was made of large stone slabs, and podiums were placed on all four sides, which surprised me. Maybe they held group battles?

Much like the pool, people were also surrounding that part, though they were much more concentrated around the bottom of what was presumably the Captain's place, with the steering wheel and shit – I wasn't a boat guy, I didn't know the terminology. Regardless, the people were lined up in front of a desk, taking turns speaking to the four crew members in light blue suits sitting behind it.

And right at the front of the line were the three people I came to meet.

"Ey, you made it," I greeted, thankful for the stands cutting off the view of the ocean. I was starting to believe I'd be okay, but that didn't mean I wanted to stare at it.

"No thanks to you." I grimaced slightly at Misty's tone. Perhaps I was not as forgiven as I'd hoped.

"Right," I coughed. "So, signing up for one of the tournaments?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be in the first one!" Ash exclaimed, making the guy in an open tropical shirt and bathing shorts in front of him flinch a little, his pen jerking as he signed the waiver and moved on, giving me a mild glare, which I returned.

"Oh, guess we won't be fighting each other, then. Gary and I are in the one tomorrow, 2-3 Bagdes. You can only be in one." I explained, making the boy gape.

"WHAT! Then I'm gonna be on the second one too, and beat both you and Gary!" Ash slammed the desk as the bewildered woman switched forms at his words.

"Not joining? Well, I guess you don't have Badges." I asked the two former Gym Leaders as Ash was led through the process, seeing both of them shaking their heads.

"Nah, we're disqualified for being Gym Leaders in the first place, former or not," Brock answered. I noticed that he had taken off his vest. "Honestly, I'm more interested in the foreign Pokémon here than anything else. Not as many Rock-Types as I could have hoped, but then again, we are on water."

I nodded. "And you, Misty? Trying to pick anything up for the Clan?"

She shook her head noncommittally. "Well, if anything exciting catches my eye, sure, but the Clan already had someone here while in Hoenn. The S.S. Anne has agreements with different places around the world. We get first pick of anything special in return for helping out with security and some funding here and there." That kind of made sense. I was wondering who was running all of it, and it made some sense that it was a semi-shared project.

"Oh, so the security is all various Clan members?" I asked as another humongous dude in sailor clothes walked by.

"Not all of them," Brock picked up the thread, "but some. I know there's a couple of Pebbles around here somewhere."

I frowned; the information was not putting me at ease. Once more, something was poking at my brain, something that felt important.

"Where's Gary?" Ash interrupted my musing, making me blink.

"Oh, he's actually waiting for us down-"

HOOOOOOONK!

I flinched violently at the loud sound, the floorboard vibrating under my feet as a faint humming sound vibrated-

-Something was off. The perpetual hum of the engine that had been our constant companion to the degree it had become as much a part of the journey as the movement of the ocean had gone quiet.

Straining my hearing, I could barely pick up a faint noise like an engine, but definitely not ours. Indistinct talking sounded from the upper deck, though not as loud as I expected them to be without the engine burr, like the passengers were whispering-


-"ri! Peri!" Hands grabbed my cheeks tighter as I tried to jerk away, eyes darting around before being forced to focus on the bright blue orbs right in front of me. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I got you. You're fine."

I nodded shakily, removing Misty's hands apologetically, but I needed to breathe. Sucking oxygen in deeply and pushing it back out, I ignored the looks both Brock and Ash were giving me before I said something I'd regret.

I didn't need their fucking pity. I was fine.

"As-" the voice crack didn't help, "as I was saying, Gary's waiting down in the shop, so we should go there. Now." I stepped aside and held out my arm, gesturing for them to go forward. Thankfully, they did so – though Brock laid a hand on my shoulder briefly and nodded his head supportively – giving me a moment to calm down, a task made much more difficult when the whole ship lurched as the S.S. Anne left Vermillion.

Okay, so jumping off was no longer a possibility. Good. Excellent even. I didn't want to get off anyway, and I was shaking from excitement, not my fucked-up brain playing tricks on me.

I was fine.

I was startled once more as a light weight – relatively – landed on my upper back and pulled itself up to my shoulder. Looking over, I saw Eevee looking back as she curled her tail around her legs. Huffing, I scratched her lightly under the chin. I hurried after the others, letting Herc and Siren out of their balls as extra company, Siren staring up at Eevee accusingly, before I snatched her up in my arms. Herc, being a big boy, could walk on his own, apparently, as he rejected the offer.

They didn't say anything about my brief delay, though Misty did fall back to walk beside me. Matching her tempo, we ended up walking a little behind, as Ash had somehow been allowed to be the one with the map, and Brock was trying to prevent us from getting instantly lost.

"So-

"Misty, I-"

We went quiet to allow the other to continue. Refusing to end up in a rom-com, I took the chance to just keep going.

"Misty, I'm sorry about our date, that wasn't-"

"Don't," she cut me off before I could even begin, shaking her head and tickling Siren's scales to absolutely zero response. "Dude, you just had a panic attack because the engine started. Yeah, I don't appreciate the way you went about it, and you only get this one, but it's okay. Seriously, Peri," she leaned her head in and forced me to make eye contact with her uncharacteristically open expression, "it's okay. That type of shit makes us do stuff we're not proud of." It wasn't just sympathy in her voice. It was genuine empathy, with a haunted undertone of familiarity.

"A story for next time?" I asked jokingly, getting a snort. She opened her mouth to reply, only to pause and turn back to me with a scheming look on her face.

"Or, maybe the time after that. You're VIP thanks to that micro-dick asshole, right?" I nodded, needing no further information about who she was talking about. "That means you can get reservations at The Milotic for tonight. You're paying."

"Uh, sure," I agreed. It couldn't be that expensive, right?

Misty's grin reminded me of a shark's, and I suddenly had a terrible feeling about my wallet. I should do that before buying TMs.

"If you'll excuse me real quick." I made my escape, consulting the map to find my way to what was presumably a restaurant.


Thanks in no small part to Ash's awful directions, I made it back to the group right as they arrived at the shopping area, or giant ass floating mall that took up a whole floor, as it might be more appropriately called. Throwing Misty a stinkeye in response to her big smile, I grumbled half-good-naturedly.

"Damn witch. All my precious money." Holy fuck, I knew that both Gary and Misty had said that shit was expensive, but my fucking god, I could've gotten several TMs for that price.

"You mean your ill-gotten money." She reminded me.

"I fully disagree. Swindling a billionaire is common courtesy, comrade." Was Misty going to understand a communist joke? No, but I did, I thought both the joke and her semi-confused face were good.

"OH! There's Gary!" Ash pointed out, and sure enough, the spikey brown hair and purple shirt were unmistakable as he stood, frowning, by the TMs.

"Looking to get an advantage before tomorrow? While I agree that you need it, I don't think-HOLY SHIT!" I was brutally ripped from my mocking when I saw the price tags he was glaring at.

Guess I might only have been able to get one TM for the dinner reservation, after all.

If that.

"This is a fucking scam!" Gary spat, only making me feel slightly better. If even Oak's money thought it was too much, then I felt completely validated. "10 grand for fucking Rock Throw! I can get it for half that in Pewter!"

"That's because Rock Throw is a popular move in Pewter." Brock chimed in. "Thanks to the Clans and the type of Trainers that hang around there, some moves become more common and therefore, less valuable. That being said, these prices are crazy. I think I'll have a peek at the Pokémon on offer."

Misty nodded after the oldest of us as the teen moved over to the Pokémon area, where several stores and independent people were posted up, ready to peddle their wares. "I'll go with him. The Clan's got me covered if I need TMs, and I could use another team member. What time is the reservation?"

"7."

"Good, then I'll meet you there. I wanna get some sun and swim with my Pokémon, so I'll be upstairs. Put on some different clothes." I rolled my eyes as she moved away. She and her sisters were more alike than they realised. Turning back to my last two companions – not counting my Pokémon – I was met with Gary's wiggling eyebrows and giant, smug grin. At least he wasn't angry, I guess.

"Oh, grow up," I sneered at him. "Are we buying anything or what?"

"We can see if they have a human TM somewhere that can teach you some moves." He laughed at the middle finger I gave him. "I don't know, man, they've got some good stuff, but fuck me, those prices. I can only get a couple, and they have shit I didn't even know there were TMs of." He said, leaning closer to the glass to peer at a Superpower TM.

"Yeah," I paused, an idea striking. "What if we went halvesies?"

"How do you mean? We can't rip it in two."

"No, you idiot. I mean, what if we each pay half and then teach it to both our teams? That way we can get more."

He hummed for a moment, looking thoughtful. "I mean, they should have like, five or six charges. But then who would get the disk afterwards?"

That was a good point. "Get an even number, each takes half? What about you, Ash, you want in on this?"

"Uh," the Ketchum looked unusually hesitant, looking at his PokéDex dejectedly. Looking over his shoulder, I winced a little. It wasn't bad, in fact, I'd say he barely spent money at all, but being a low-level Trainer didn't pay that well. "I probably shouldn't."

"That's rough. You can borrow one of mine. Hell, maybe we'll find a hidden gem for cheap and we'll split it."

"REALLY!?" I nodded, getting an excited fist pump, and to my shock, he grabbed me around the midsection in a quick hug. "Thanks, Peri!"-

-I opened my mouth to apologise if they were the wrong size, yet I was cut off as the kid slammed into my midsection with a giant hug.

"Thank you so much, Peri! I love them!"-


He let go before I could cause a scene, and other than a slightly odd look from Gary, it seemed like I got away with it. That was… that was a new one. Still rough. Still emotionally devastating as I felt tears pricking at the edge of my eyes.

Fuck, I needed to be on guard while on the bitch-ass boat.

Over the next several hours, we poured over the displayed TMs and even moved a bit beyond them to the rest of the shop. We ended up buying several – one of which was the aforementioned Superpower TM – and left some others undecided until later, when we finally lost Ash after having to focus on the same thing for more than 10 minutes, which might be a record for him.

"I'm going to watch the tournament! I'm all fired up!" Ash screamed, speeding out of there. Looking at Gary, I shrugged as we made our way after him, done with the TMs for now. We had three days on the ship – plenty of time to think it over.

Might as well check out the competition. So far, the whole 'being on a ship again' wasn't terrible – barring that one time.

Yeah, it was going to be fine.


Ah, the S.S. Anne. What a nice, relaxing trip. I think this will really help Peri conquer some of his demons.

Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
 
Chapter 40. New
Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoy. If you REALLY like it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.


"WELCOME, TRAINERS AND AUDIENCE, TO OUR SECOND TOURNAMENT ON OUR WAY TO CERULEAN! YEASTERDAY WAS A FIERCE DISPLAY OF-"

My jaw flexed as I yawned with my mouth closed, rubbing my eyes to try and remove the slight ache. Beside me, Ash was thoroughly entranced by the announcer's words, despite having spent the previous day watching the first tournament. Meanwhile, Gary bumped his shoulder into mine.

"You didn't come back to the room last night. I always knew that the Waterflowers sisters were sluts, but dinner went that well, huh?"

"Well, I swung by your mom's place afterwards. You know she can't sleep unless I give it to her." I whispered back. Of course, I didn't go back to the room. No fucking way I was going to sleep until we made it back to land. Even blinking was taking my eyes off the ball a little too long for my tastes.

"Publicly admitting to necrophilia is wild."

"I'm very wild, just like your mom is when I'm giving it to her."

"Riveting. So the date didn't go well? What happened, your Orre ass tried to eat the cutlery? Couldn't figure out which fork was which?"

"The date went fine," I whispered back, internally crying at the state of my bank account. Between the dinner, some random stuff from the store that looked neat, and the TMs – especially the TMs – I was damn near back to where I was before meeting Bill, which was extremely upsetting.

At least, the date truly had gone well, if uneventful. We'd mostly just made small talk and stayed away from anything too heavy.

"SHHHHHH! I can't hear!" I contemplated informing Ash of the irony that he was way fucking louder than we were and drawing multiple eyes to us. Still, I decided to simply leave it to Gary as they began whispering insults at each other.

"-THE ORDER HAS ALREADY BEEN DECIDED! IF EVERYONE BUT OUR FIRST TWO TRAINERS WOULD PLEASE MAKE THEIR WAY TO THE WAITING AREA!"

"YES! FINALLY!" Ash cheered, getting laughs from the audience as he took his place on one side of the field, a chuckling older guy standing across from him.

The rest of the 120-something group of Trainers began making our way down from the centre platform under thunderous applause as over 500 people cheered and clapped for the beginning of the 2-3 Badge tournament.

Also, what did the announcer say at the start?

"Did he say Cerulean!?" I hissed at Gary, while forcing him to step behind an absolute unit of a woman, like the human version of a Spheal.

"Yeah, of course he said Cerulean. Did you not check where we're going? I even told you yesterday!" Gary looked at me like I was stupid.

"No, you said Cinnabar!"

"And we're passing that now! Will you stop whining!? I'll give you a ride to Celadon if you don't piss me off too much." That didn't stop me from grumbling as we walked through the sign-up desk and through a door that led to a set of stairs that took us upwards. I liked Cerulean, but I just spent two weeks there. I definitely wouldn't mind if it took a little longer before I made my return.

The waiting area was beneath the ship's control room. Couches and armchairs were arranged along the entire glass wall that overlooked the small stadium. Food and other refreshments were stacked high on the buffet table on the other side, and the other contestants didn't take long to make themselves comfortable.

Securing a couple of plushy chairs for the two of us, I smacked Gary's feet away as he plopped them up on the table between us, while he flipped me off in response.

"You know, the placement is incredibly convenient," I remarked, watching as the referee raised a flag in Ash's direction – apparently, he'd lost the coin toss that decided who went first while we were climbing the stairs – not that he seemed to mind, turning his hat around and throwing out his PokéBall happily. I raised an eyebrow in surprise at the appearance of a small orange reptile with stubby arms and a flame flickering at the end of its tail.

I completely forgot that Ash got Charmander so early. Wait, thinking about it, the Fire-Type had been up for grabs for essentially anyone with basic empathy. It didn't have to be Ash.

FUCK! God damn Cerulean, taking up all my time!

"Yeah, you and I won't meet until the finals. Bet you a grand that idiot loses first round, though," Gary snarked, sitting sideways with his legs over the armrest while throwing some kind of nuts into the air and trying to catch them in his mouth.

"I'll take that bet." I felt vindicated when Ash's opponent released a Whismur. An Alpha Whismur, sure, but a Whismur was a Whismur.

It didn't last long, and the money felt sweet. The early rounds – as in, until the quarter finals – were only one-on-one as we had quite a few Trainers to get through. Later on, it would become a three-on-three.

Until then, it didn't seem like anything interesting was going to happen.

Oh well. At least the snacks were good.


"GARY'S SQUIRTLE'S ALREADY EVOLVED!?" Grabbing him by the back of his shirt, I yanked Ash back into his chair, an imprint of his face left on the grass. Down below, Squirty the Wartortle swaggered up to a Chikarita confidently. The girl opposing Gary must have thought she lucked out when he sent out a Water-Type, hoping the type advantage would save her.

It didn't.

"Not all of us refuse to evolve our starters," I commented, taking in Squirty. It was my first time seeing him since before evolution, and the change suited him well. His height wasn't horrifically above average, but he was broad and sturdy, Razor Leaf barely leaving scratches on his shell. The fluffy white ears and curly tail seemed well maintained, though I wasn't the best judge on the Squirtle line.

"You're one to talk! You're the only one who hasn't evolved any Pokémon!" He pointed and laughed, only for the sound to turn into a yelp as I kicked his chair hard enough that it wobbled.

It wasn't my fault that my team was filled with slow growers and alternate evolutions. We'd get there.


"MOVING ON TO THE THIRD-TO-LAST MATCH OF ROUND ONE! ON THE LEFT SIDE, ANOTHER TRAINER FROM PALLET, WHO HAS ONLY JUST STARTED HIS TRAINER JOURNEY! WILL HE IMPRESS AS MUCH AS THE OTHERS!? IT'S PERIWINKLE!"

The crowd cheered, though there was a fair amount of booing as well from people who got tired of Ash and Gary taking down their opponents so quickly. I did my best not to pay them any mind, throwing Misty a smirk when I spotted her in the front of the stands. Despite not wanting to be on the ship in the first place – and still flinching like a bitch every time a wave hit the bow – I was a little excited. I hadn't spent a lot of time battling random strangers, despite that being a pretty integral part of being a Trainer. The last time I'd done so was in Viridian Forest, and Bug Catcher didn't count. Neither did the Cerulean Gym Trainers.

It would be good to see how I stacked up.

"AND ON THE RIGHT SIDE, AN EQUALLY YOUNG TRAINER FROM HOENN, TRYING HIS LUCK IN KANTO, BRAVING THE SEA TO TEST HIS METTLE AGAINST THE WHOLE WORLD! IT'S STUART!"

I wasn't super impressed by the glare of the acne-struck, black haired teenager with his floral bathing shorts and bare upper body.

"Left Trainer, release your Pokémon!" The referee – yet another suit guy, though his dark brown hair was up in a man-bun and he had a shitty goatee that more resembled a dirt smudge than a beard – said.

Eevee walked forwards, ears flicking uneasily at the loud noises, eyes darting around nervously and back to me periodically. I nodded to her as reassuringly as possible. While I would've liked to test her out under calmer circumstances, I'd figured the first round would probably be fine.

Seeing the Wingull that Stuart sent out circle around as the Psychic barriers sprang up, I felt confident that I wouldn't be paying for my arrogance quite yet.

"This will be a one-on-one battle! First to surrender, fall unconscious, or be judged unable to continue will lose the battle! Are both Trainers ready!?" We both nodded. "Then begin!"

"Sky Terror, rapid Water Gun!"

I was so distracted by the nickname that I almost forgot to respond. I could've gotten away with it if it were one of the others, but Eevee was a little too new, and yet, too well-trained to act on her own.

"Dodge, Hyper Voice."

During my time… ruminating upon my problems in the training field of Vermillion, I'd taken the time to run Eevee through her move set. In that session, I'd learned two things about the pint-sized fox.

1. She was very mobile.

I hummed appreciatively as jets of water fell from the sky with only a couple of seconds intervals. Having used Water Gun myself for quite a long time, I knew that it must've taken a lot of practice to be that quick.

It was still too slow, however.

A light jump to the side let the first beam wash over the stone arena, a twirl bringing Eevee around the second. She hesitated briefly as some of the watchers waved a large banner furiously, only for her ears to twitch at the last moment before she crouched to let another Water Gun pass over her head, the fur between the large ears being drenched in water before she leapt forwards again to clear the fourth jet easily, gaze firmly locked on her target.

I didn't know whether it was her egg move, Detect, or whether the Waterflower Clan simply bred them differently. Still, she made it look almost effortless as she danced across the stage between the liquid missiles, a white energy coating her as she blurred to the other side of the battlefield. Her Quick Attack was amateurish, even compared to Hercules who was far from a master himself, but it was sufficient for shirt bursts.

Using the brief pause as Stuart yelled Eevee's location up at 'Sky Terror', the Normal-Type inhaled deeply, her minuscule lungs filling and then overfilling as her puffy chest expanded beyond logic.

2. She hit like a tiny truck.

"EEEIIIIIIIIII!"

Despite the barriers dulling the vast majority of the noise, the audience still winced at the piercingly loud screech that erupted from Eevee's mouth, the air itself distorted as it vibrated furiously, a sonic cone rippling out from the Normal-Type.

"SKY TERROR, NOOOO!"

The warning would've come too late for a regular Pokémon. Against a Flying-Type, with a much sharper-than-average sense of hearing?

It wasn't worth the breath.

Sky Terror the Wingull cried out as the sound wave struck it, eyes rolling back into its skull as its brain rattled around inside its cranium. It being my first battle with a Wingull since the one at the oasis where I'd found Siren's egg, I'd admit to taking some pleasure in watching the bird plummet from the sky, unable to stay aloft with the dizziness, and hit the deck with a soft thud!

Seeing Eevee relax and begin sitting down, I called out to her. "Don't back down yet! Be ready with a Swift if it gets back up!" The words had her back on edge, which was good. The battle wasn't over until the referee said so, and better Trainers than me had been caught with their pants down after thinking they won.

That didn't turn out to be the case as Stuart recalled his edgy-named bird with tears of humiliation in his eyes as he glared at me, but it was still worth it to start integrating the habits into Eevee.

"AND PALLET TOWN GOES THREE FOR THREE AS PERIWINKLE'S EEVEE BRINGS DOWN WINGULL WITH A DEVASTATING HYPER VOICE! CAN ANYTHING STOP THESE YOUNG PRODIGIES!?"

I nodded, satisfied. Walter had been right, Eevee wasn't that far behind the rest of the team, if at all. A bigger move pool, faster charge time, and some ways to keep foes at a distance and she would be a little menace. A touch more confidence wouldn't hurt either, but that would come with time.

The tournament, on the other hand, was off to a somewhat slow start. I may have bought into the S.S. Anne hype too much, but that was pathetic for someone with two Badges.

Oh well, it was only the first round. I'd reserve full judgment for later.


"Who the fuck has that loser been sucking off for these Pokémon!?"

"Didn't I hear that you've caught an Alpha Pidgey?" I scoffed at Gary's disbelief while down in the arena, Ash's Bulbasaur pulled itself out of the way with a creative Vine Whip, letting the small, light brown canine – with a darker brown muzzle and paws – and sky-blue eyes sail past with the top of its head glowing with Psychic-Type energy. The Zen Headbutt faded as the Rockruff looked around for its target, only to whine in pain as another Vine Whip lashed it across the back.

Looking around cautiously, I snuck my PokéDex out of my pocket and directed it down at the canine. Might as well get some work done for the Professor. My actions got an approving nod from Gary as he copied me, despite flipping out, scooting a little closer to hide our recording.

"Yeah, but I'm awesome, and he's not! Have you been catching Pokémon for him, with your bullshit luck!?" It was funny watching Gary lose his mind over Ash having revealed that he'd caught all three Kanto starters, something that had a lot of tongues wagging around the stands. The S.S. Anne loved their rare Pokémon, and very few Trainers could boast about having all three regional 'starter' species. Starter was a strong word, as it required a sponsorship from the local Pokémon Professor, but they had become synonymous with their regions as their species were very rare in the wild, yet excellent for newbie Trainers.

"You got me. I found a Charmander, Squirtle, AND Bulbasaur in the wild but decided 'eh, don't need 'em' and gave them to Ash. You're so smart, Gary." I mocked, starting another exchange of insults as Ash cleaned up his third battle.

It would've been even funnier if I weren't quite envious myself, but I liked my team.

"Fuck you. Why'd you recall Siren so quickly anyway, during your last match?"

I refused to meet his eyes. "Long tournament, gotta keep them fresh. Besides, you recalled Squirty pretty fast yourself."

"Well, your anxious ass is robbing off on me, I guess."

I hummed lightly, not letting on that it actually made me breathe a little easier. The more combat capable Pokémon we had, the better. I still wasn't convinced that shit wasn't going to go down.


"-OH, AND ANOTHER ONE GOES DOWN! IT WOULD SEEM THAT ANDREW SIMPLY CANNOT STAND AGAINST THIS MONSTEROUS GROWLITHE! EVEN BY S.S. ANNE STANDARDS, THIS IS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME SIGHT! WHERE ARE THESE PALLET TRAINERS GETTING THEIR POKÉMON!?"

Sol panted happily as the opposing Lombre faded into crimson energy, basking in the attention as the crowd gossiped and snapped pictures of the Shiny Alpha. He'd caused quite the stir when I released him, overshadowing Ash's starter trio with ease. I could practically feel Gary seething as no one gave a fuck about his Wartortle.

I'd been hesitant to actually use Sol, as it was the first time we battled so publicly, but after Eevee got a little too close to losing to a shiny Nosepass, it felt like time to pull out the big guns. Combined with Sol being the only one who didn't get to fight Walter, it only felt fair.

Given the way he took out the Treeko with a single Ember and then waded straight through the Lombre's Bubblebeam, it was the right choice.

"Fucking nepo-babies, coasting off your sponsorship! You know nothing about hard work!"

Digging around in my ear, I flicked away a little bit of earwax while giving the full-grown man across from me my best half-lidded gaze.

"Uh-huh. Can you send out your next Pokémon so we can get this over with? I was kinda in the middle of a sandwich."

I did genuinely feel a little bad as the scruffy, bearded man sent out his last Pokémon, a frilly mushroom materialising as Andrew from Hoenn put his final hopes on his large Shroomish. The one-on-one fights hadn't been anything worth mentioning, and my first three-on-three – the quarter final – wasn't much better. The Grass-Type shook itself, small dots of yellow pollen drifting from under its skirt-esque lower body. A cloud hung around the Shroomish, preventing Sol from getting close as it started drifting over the battlefield-

"Ember."

-only to be struck by a barrage of fire pellets that violently ignited the Stun Spore into a fiery conflagration, the shockwave sending Shroomish flying backwards and giving Sol plenty of time to rush over and pound it into the ground.

Andrew did have a point. So far, Sol had brute-forced his way through a whole team, and I didn't think the others would do much worse.

While a skilled Trainer could take ordinary, weak Pokémon extremely far, it couldn't be denied that it was a lot easier with rarer Pokémon.

On the other hand, we were on the S.S. Anne, the luxury cruise filled with rich pricks. What the fuck did he expect?


"UUHHHH, AND BUTTERFREE MANAGES TO LAND A STUN SPORE! IS IT ENOUGH TO TURN THE TIDES!?"

It wasn't. Butterfree flapped its wings furiously, wind whipping around as it desperately tried to protect itself with a Whirlwind. Yet, the Ice Beam was too strong and punched straight through the turbulence to strike the Bug/Flying-Type centre mass, frost crawling over its body and the base of its wings as it finally gave up and dropped from the sky.

"BUTTERFREE!"

"HA! That's the best you've got, loser!? This is sad even for you!"

"SHUT UP, GARY! GO, PIKACHU, LET'S SHOW THEM WHAT WE'VE GOT!"

It was a little early for Gary to be so cocky, though that was par for the course with the younger Oak, I mused as the Electric-Type jumped off Ash's shoulder and took his place across from the smirking Squirty. Ash choosing Butterfree as his opener was simply bad luck. Gary wasn't supposed to have an Electric-Type despite his plethora of catches.

Though I noted that Gary had apparently bought Squirty an Ice Beam TM at some point. Valuable info, since it was looking more and more likely that I'd be facing off against him in the final.

Well, I had to get through my own semi-final first, yet from everything I'd seen, the stuck-up, wealthy lady was heavily reliant on her shiny Beautifly and shiny Skitty – and Sol was going to eat them for lunch. Both Siren and Herc made more sense, seeing as they had the type advantage, and would be my back-ups, yet I couldn't resist the urge to show off after the snob with the heavy makeup had been so very eager to shove her shinies in people's faces.

"AND A VICIOUS THUNDERSHOCK TAKES OUT WARTORTLE, THOUGH NOT BEFORE DELIVERING A HEAVY BLOW IN RETURN! THE SCORE IS NOW ONE-ONE! CAN THE LEFT TRAINER RECOVER FROM HIS EARLY LOSS!?"

It honestly made sense that Team Rocket was so interested in Pikachu in the anime. Every time, I was surprised by how much sheer power he could produce when he got serious. The Thundershock that brought Squirty low hadn't been on the level of Surge's Thunderbolt, yet I knew that if Herc saw it, he would've been feeling inadequate again.

Gary growled as he threw his next PokéBall, a round, rocky Pokémon with a wide grin appearing. Stony scraping sounds rang out as the Graveler cracked all four sets of knuckles menacingly at the panting Pikachu, who nursed his ribs, winching with every movement.

Ash really needed to teach him Iron Tail or something. The only moves the Electric-Type had that could even hurt the Rock/Ground-Type were Quick Attack and Tackle, and as funny as watching the small mouse throw itself face-first into a rock would be, it wasn't exactly a winning strategy. The Ground-Type immunity to electricity wasn't a hard rule, as far as I knew after asking Brock, but the minerals in Graveler's rocky hide would conduct the current and insulate its biological insides.

To Pikachu's credit, it lasted longer than I would've expected and even landed a couple of hits. The rodent had a clear speed advantage and used Quick Attack to circle faster than Graveler could turn before slamming into it at full speed, managing to stagger it slightly. Yet, as I'd thought, it was questionable who it hurt more: the target or the attacker.

"COME ON, KID, YOU CAN DO IT!"

"GIVE UP ALREADY!"

The audience had split reactions, some rooting for the underdog and others wanting to fast-forward to the inevitable outcome. Neither of the two boys battling were faced with the hooting and hollering from the stands. Hell, Gary seemed to relish it, the vain bitch.

Pikachu once more put on an impressive light show; however, between the injury from Squirty and damn near fucking concussing himself on Graveler's stony carapace, it was only a matter of time before he got caught, and the ref called it.

And that was honestly the end of it. Ash screamed himself hoarse as his Squirtle took on the Rock-Type and took it down with only minimal struggle. Graveler's lack of speed allowed the turtle to stay out of reach and hose it down with Water Guns. A couple of Rock Throws clipped the blue amphibian, and a Magnitude sent it to the floor in pain, but it got there in the end, Gary recalling it before it could get too hurt.

But when Gary released his last Pokémon with a smirk, and a Clefairy bounced around cheerfully to the crowd's and announcer's delight, it was over in moments. The Fairy Pokémon lit up with an impressive amount of electricity and unleashed a blinding Thunderbolt that sent Squirtle to the ground. A second one made sure it stayed there.

So, the reason Gary couldn't afford the TMs was that he'd been on a spending spree and already loaded up. Good to know.

I'd have to see how Ash was doing later. First, I had to clap some rich bitch's cheeks and show her who had the better shiny Pokémon.

And then, I was apparently getting a chance for some payback.

Hopefully, Gary wouldn't be too salty when I fucking decimated him. We just became friends again.


"AND HERE WE ARE, FOLKS! THE FINAL MATCH OF OUR SECOND TOURNAMENT AND WHAT A TOURNAMENT IT'S BEEN!"

The sun had dipped beneath the stands, casting the arena in shadow. Orange bled through the gaps, and I imagined that if I were to walk around, the ocean would be a magnificent sight worthy of poetry.

I had absolutely no intention of doing that.

"ON THE LEFT, THE YOUNG BOY FROM PALLET TOWN WHO'S SWEPT ALL BEFORE HIM! THE GRANDSON OF THE FAMOUS PROFESSOR OAK! IT'S GARY OAK!"

Gary waved casually, a giant smirk on his face, though I caught the slight twitch of his eye at the mention of his grandfather.

"AND ON THE RIGHT, ALSO FROM PALLET TOWN, THE BOY WITH THE SHINY ALPHA GROWLITHE! IT'S PERWINKLE!" It was my turn to twitch. Okay, Sol was awesome, but so was I! And the rest of my team, of course.

"THE STAGE IS SET FOR A SHOWDOWN OF CHILDHOOD FRIENDS! NOW, THE COIN TOSS!" The guy was laying it on thick, but I guess that was his job.

"Heads!" Gary called out before I had a chance to. I glared at him lightly, but didn't really care that much. I was confident.

"Tails!"

Especially when he still lost.

"He'll go first," it was my turn to grin as Gary gritted his teeth, fingers dancing across the six PokéBalls on his belt. There was no changing your team between rounds, and so far, he had used Squirty, Graveler, his Clefairy, and a chunky Raticate. It was entirely possible that he would use something else, as neither were a good option against my team.

However, Gary was a vain fuck who hated when others got the spotlight. Ash had drawn attention with his complete set of Kanto starters, and Sol had been the main attraction of the tournament so far.

There was no way Gary wouldn't try to show off, even if it was a stupid decision.

"AND WHAT'S THIS!?" The announcer screamed from his place higher in the control tower as Gary's PokéBall arched through the air and opened upon contact with the ground. The light grew and grew, beyond what I'd expected, standing as tall as Gary himself. The ruby energy dispersed as the prominent figure spread its six-foot wings wide and cawed loudly. "IS THAT ANOTHER ALPHA!? WHERE ARE THESE KIDS GETTING THEM FROM!?"

Brown feathers clad the human-sized avian, except for the cream-colored face, underside, and the inside of its wings. A pinkish-red crest glowed from its head, matching the colour of the tail feathers, which alternated with the same cream hue. Sharp, predatory eyes surveyed the field before locking onto me with a hungry look as the giant bird took flight, circling around as best it could in the limited space of the Psychic barriers.

It appeared I was wrong. Gary didn't have an Alpha Pidgey.

He had an Alpha Pidgeotto.

Very impressive, yet as I thought, a very dumb move. Trying to outmuscle my team simply wasn't going to work.

Siren materialised on my side of the field to loud laughter and ridicule, making me flip off the stands in response. They could go fuck themselves, and were about to eat their fucking words anyway.

"AND THE RIGHT TRAINER ANSWERS WITH AN… UNUSUAL CHOICE, A FEEBAS! WILL THE ODDBALL PICK PAY OFF!?"

"Are both Trainers ready?" WE both nodded at the referee's words. Despite everyone else's reactions, Gary looked a little pale at seeing my fish. He'd grown up with her training in the pond. Made sense that he knew he was fucked. "Then begin on three. One. Two. Three!"

"Pidgeotto, Gust!" Gary screamed before the last syllable left the referee's mouth, the scamming fuck. Pidgeotto spread its double-digit wingspan, slowing its hovering to hang in the air.

And then it dove, screeching loudly as its three-toed feet spread wide, ready to grasp Siren in its massive talons.

"WHAT!? NO YOU MORON, DON'T GET CLOSE!" I had to hold back my laughter, the Sensational Sisters' words coming back to me. It seemed Gary still hadn't gotten his Alpha to listen. Oh, Gary, you unbelievable idiot.

The difference between catching it and raising it, I guessed.

"Ice Beam, let's wrap this up!"

"MOVE, DUMBASS!"

Pidgeotto didn't move. The chilly Ice attack left mist in its wake as it pierced through the air and smacked straight into the Flying-Type's chest. Ice spread on impact, yet Pidgeotto was so large that it failed to cover its entire breast. The super-effective move was enough to stun it; the enormous bird jerked and dropped in the air as its sensitive nervous system was shocked. However, it managed to recover and flexed hard enough that the frosty shell shattered into shards.

It wasn't an Alpha for nothing. I was starkly reminded of Sol's tendency to trust his size to carry him through. Seems there were some similarities between Pokémon with the rare genome.

Finally listening to its Trainer, Pidgeotto tried to dodge the following Ice Beam, but its size worked against it. It was too big and slow, especially after already being hit once. The left wing froze over, and then the right. The pinions glowed with a sky-blue energy beneath the cold covering, a Wing Attack freeing it for a moment before a fourth Ice Beam hit it again.

"FUCK! FINE, DIVEBOMB THEIR ASS!"

My eyes widened as the vast wings snapped close to its body and it dropped like a missile straight towards Siren, the weight of the oversized avian making it blur through the air.

"JET!"

Too late. Siren's general slowness reared its head meaningfully for the first time in a while, the propulsion from the Water Gun barely managing to move her half a foot before almost six feet of bird slammed into the arena floor right on top of her.

BOOOOM!

"SIREN!" I cried out as my Feebas tumbled out of the dust cloud, spinning head over tail uncontrollably multiple times as she skidded over the floor. Eventually, she slowed, her levitation enough to counter the remaining momentum. Looking her over, I breathed a sigh of relief. She was dirty, missing a couple of scales, and I was sure she'd have a bruise to show off later, but she was mostly fine.

Which was more than I could say about Pidgeotto when the impact zone became visible. At the bottom of a pretty impressive crater, the Normal/Flying-Type struggled feebly to get up. I didn't even have to say anything before another Ice Beam was shooting towards it, the red light of a PokéBall sucking it away right before it could be knocked out.

"AND IN AN UNEXPECTED UPSET, THE MAGNIFICENT PIDGEOTTO GOES DOWN TO THE FEEBAS! WHO COULD'VE SEEN IT COMING!? HOW WILL THE LEFT TRAINER RECOVER FROM THE DEVASTATING LOSS OF HIS HIDDEN ACE!?"

The announcer was bothering me. I understood that it was a cruise for wealthy people, and that they were trying to sell rare Pokémon, but Pidgeotto – while impressive – wasn't Gary's strongest. Maybe if he could command it effectively, but until then, the title of cornerstone went to someone else.

Namely, the Wartortle that was released on the other side of the field, stomping its foot and crossing its arms confidently in the face of Siren's glare.

"AND WARTORTLE COMES OUT! DOES THE YOUNG OAK HOPE THAT IT WILL CARRY HIM AS IT HAS THROUGHOUT THE TOURNAMENT!?"

Not if I had anything to say about it.


Turns out, fighting regular battles is a lot easier than real fights. Let's see if Gary is gonna be any different.

Kinda speedrunning the tournament, but there's gonna be plenty of battling in the coming chapters.

Thank you for reading. Hopefully you enjoyed. If you REALLY liked it, I have a P-a-t-r-e-o-n, under the same name, where you can read 5 chapters ahead.
 

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