A/N: I own a copy of at least one game from every Generation, but that's about it.

No one really knew what to expect in the aftermath of its shellacking. For the longest time, Saffron City had been a Fighting city, proud of its combination of grit and glamour. Locals could puff out their chests when thinking about the worldwide sway that Silph Co., based in their grand city city, held as well as the hard-nosed gym at the north end of town. The leader was a Karate master, who proudly wore his black belt with pride as he and his underlings set a strong standard for any trainers that attempted to earn the necessary badge to enter the Indigo Plateau and the Kanto branch of the Pokemon League. For the longest time, it looked like things would never change.

Then came the Psychics.

They brutalized the dojo. Their leader was a cool and aloof psychic, whose stunning beauty was matched only by her calculated determination to destroy the runty gym next door. It was a massacre, with the completely overwhelmed karatekas curb-stomped. Sadly, the change happened almost overnight. Aspiring trainers began flocking over to the newer gym to face off against the new big weight in town, and it wasn't long before the Pokemon League made an executive decision to recognize Sabrina's locale as the officially sanctioned gym of Saffron City. The Fighting Dojo was relegated to an also-ran, and with the Karate Master retreating into seclusion in shame, the rest of his underlings would go their separate ways as well. The place began to fall into disrepair, and eventually the annoyed Sabrina filed an official complaint to the city board of directors, intending to have the all-but-condemned building leveled.

It is on the day of this hearing, my dear readers, that our story begins…

SABRINA

Saffron City District Court, Courtroom #5, 9:04 A.M.

Sabrina glanced at her watch. It was four minutes past the hour. The judge was late. This was enough to make the psychic seethe with tranquil fury. Her cold expression did not change on the outside, but on the inside her blood was boiling. How could that doddering old fool take so long? This was supposed to be a mere formality! That wreck of a building was so rundown that she figured she could cause it to collapse with her mind as easily as she could bend a spoon. She took a deep breath, and somehow managed to relax herself. Patience, dear girl. This would all be over soon.

The sound of the courtroom door opened behind her. Sabrina, along with the various other onlookers in the crowd of chairs, turned to see a young man walking hurriedly down the aisle. He was a little disheveled, and certainly a little bit underdressed for a courtroom (he was just wearing a polo sweater and khaki pants) but it was clear that he had dressed up for the occasion. Sabrina barely raised an eyebrow as he took a seat at one of the lawyer tables, and began to bring out of his backpack a multitude of papers. What did this fool think he was doing? Didn't he know that this was just a formal procedure open to the public, not a hearing?

She was distracted when she heard the door in the front of the room open, and the city councilmen and women walked out. Sabrina never particularly had a problem with the old dodders; it was just that that was that: they were old. They tended to be a bit stubborn, but to this date there was nothing that she hadn't been able to get for the city or for her. The local joke was that Sabrina might as well consolidate the council members and just run the city herself. She certainly didn't mind the ego stroking that thought gave her.

She also considered removing them all by force when the chairwoman, an elderly lady with a grandmotherly air cleared her throat to gain attention and said:

"Welcome everyone to the city council meeting on the purchase of the land area formerly designated in the zoning ordinance as the 'Fighting Dojo' by a Mr…" She looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her. "…A Mr. Phoenix, is that correct?"

The young man gave a cheery nod.

"That's me, ma'am!" He said.

WHAT?

Immediately, Sabrina rose from her chair, causing those that were unfortunate to be sitting next to her to cower in terror at her tranquil fury. Somehow, she did not change her expression (though she did raise her voice considerably) as she berated the city council.

"Madame Chairwoman, this is ridiculous! This boy has not filed the proper paperwork or gone through the appropriate procedure!" She roared. "How could you hand him the keys to that place so flippantly?" To her surprise (and rage) the elder woman adopted a stern look.

"Miss Sabrina, while it is true that your distaste for that bit of real estate is…well-known…the fact of the matter is that though Mr. Phoenix here filed paperwork at the very last minute, you did not file any paperwork whatsoever. Correct me if I am wrong, but isn't it true that your attitude towards this meeting was to just sit and dare anyone to claim that old building?" She asked pointedly. Sabrina felt red with rage, but had to nod. It was true. She hadn't actually done anything to ensure the building's destruction, just sat menacingly in her gym and threatened implicitly any foolish entrepreneurs who had dreams of fixing the place up. Which meant that concerning this yokel…she had only herself to blame.

"In that case, I think we should quiz this man on his qualifications to purchase the building." Sabrina said. "After all, we wouldn't want just anyone to be buying property in Saffron, now would we?" The scorn was clear in her voice, and again to her rage the chairwoman did not break. Her backbone was exceptionally strong that day.

"Miss Sabrina, that was for all intents and purposes what this meeting was changed to be about." She said curtly. She turned to the young man sitting squeamishly at the desk in front of her and smiled warmly. "Now, could you please state your name for the record?" The young man smiled himself and spoke.

"Certainly. It's Trodaire Phoenix, ma'am." He said. He had a rich, medium voice. Sabrina was kind of hoping he'd have a reedy and obnoxious voice, but the truth was he sounded like (with enough practice) he could record audiobooks and make a good amount of money doing it. So she'd settle for silently mocking his name. What the hell kind of name is "Trodaire?"

"Trodaire?" The chairwoman asked. "If you don't mind me asking, where does that name come from?" Phoenix laughed.

"I'm from Orre, madame Chairwoman. That might explain the funny name and the tanned skin." He said. It was true. He was rather tanned, almost bronze. There was a series of faded white tattoos ornately designed across the side of his face, making him look rather tribal. His hair was almost pitch-black, which made for a rather startling contrast against his skin. If his eyes were blue (they were dark green) Sabrina thought he could barely make the cut as a stupid cartoon character. But she continued to swallow her disappointment and rage as he deftly answered the questions laid before him. No, he did not have a criminal record. No, he'd never been in a business venture that went bust. Yes, this was his first property purchase. Yes, he had the appropriate start-up deposit as per Saffron city requirements (Damn!)

At the last line of questioning, his answers were surprising.

"Now, are you familiar with the history of the Fighting Dojo?" The Chairwoman asked. Trodaire nodded.

"I am." He said.

"Are you planning on applying for a Pokemon League license?" Came the next question. Sabrina leaned in, eager to hear the naïve boy say what she wanted to hear. Say it, boy. SAY IT!

"I will be applying for a license for trainers to use their Pokemon on the grounds of the Dojo," He began. Yes! Sabrina thought to herself. Halfway home!

Trodaire paused, then turned to look at Sabrina. The Psychic was stunned as they made eye contact. Why was he looking at her?

"No, I will not be applying for a Badge certification." He said, never breaking eye contact with the gym leader. "There's already one gym leader in Saffron, and I have no intention of competing with that."

As Sabrina silently raged at this unfortunate turn of events, the Chairwoman looked inquisitive.

"If I may ask, Mr. Phoenix, what will you do instead?" She asked.

"I'm going to just make it a gym, a place for trainers to work out and get better. Well…that's the plan, anyway. I might have a long way to go, but that's the ultimate goal." He said proudly.

Sabrina buried her head in her hands in exasperation as the city council granted that stupid boy his proper release forms to begin working on the once-defunct Dojo. As everyone filed out of the courtroom, she happened to glance in his direction. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he had…winked at her. She nearly threw a psychic bolt at him, but then decided not to.

After all, she'd spent a lot of time on her hair that morning. It would be a shame if EVERYTHING went to waste that day.

Saffron City Gym, Interior. 6:15 P.M.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, at least for Sabrina. She faced only a few challengers, and delighted in smashing them all into the ground. Her Kadabra looked almost as bored as she did as the latest kid scurried off to the Poke Center to recover his precious little team of Pokemon. One of the senior Psychics, a mystic by the name of Cecilia, walked over to her master and bowed.

"Master Sabrina, if you would forgive my intrusion…you seem…troubled." The elderly woman said respectfully. Sabrina sighed.

"It's nothing, Cecilia. I'm just…" She trailed off. She had an idea. "Cecilia, would you mind handling training sessions and any potential challengers for the rest of the day? I have things I need to take care of." She asked. The elder Psychic bowed and nodded. Sabrina smirked, and walked off. Being a gym leader had its benefits. One of them was the ability to delegate to underlings to face trainers when the leader couldn't be bothered.

Sabrina made her way back to her office in the back of the gym, and closed the door behind her. In the corner of the room, legs criss-crossed Indian style and hovering a few feet off of the floor was her most powerful Pokemon (and confidant): Alakazam. The psychic Pokemon did not open its eyes as his master entered the room.

"You are troubled." The Pokemon's psychic abilities were such that it could form them into coherent words and thoughts, and telepathically project them to those it deemed able enough to handle the invasion of mental privacy. Sabrina was one of those people.

"Troubled is not the correct word, old friend." Sabrina said grumpily, hanging her coat on a rack before taking her seat at the desk. "More like disappointed with myself."

"There is no need to be disappointed, my master. Our foresight in everyday matters is not always as potent as we would like it to be. That as well as your increased duties concerning the Pokemon League branch in this country naturally explains our failure to see this young man coming." The Pokemon intoned sagely. Sabrina didn't look at him, and instead peered out of her window. Her office had a great view of the old Fighting Dojo, and she had to admit it had given her a perverse sense of pride to watch the once proud place become empty and worn down. That was the extent of her power.

To her surprise, that boy was already there. He had just walked in front of the building, and appeared to be assessing it earnestly. Sabrina knew he couldn't see her (her window was tinted from the outside) but at the same time was cautious not to appear too obvious.

"You know that he cannot see you with that tinted window." Alakazam chided, its eyes still closed in deep meditation. Sabrina snarled, but didn't say anything. It was difficult to one-up a being with an estimated IQ of 5000.

She watched the young man survey his new acquisition with his hands on his hips, a goofy grin forming on his face. Sabrina could not understand. What made him so excited about getting a run-down old building? Not that it mattered, she assured herself as she began to work on her laptop and forgot about spying. He would be gone soon enough.

Outside the Fighting Dojo, 6:15 P.M.

TRODAIRE

With some degree of difficulty, he'd managed to jigger the lock enough to open the door. He was immediately greeted by a blast of cobwebs and dust. Coughing violently, he stepped into the building and took an assessment. The roof looked like it was leaking, and the wallpaper was peeling. There was a terrible draft. The electrical fixtures looked worn and burned out. It smelled like no one had taken out the trash since the last person that had been in here. The main reception office was a tiny little cubby to the left of the front door, a room so small he could almost touch from one wall to the other with his fully stretched wingspan. He walked in there and set up his cot and blanket. When he walked back out, he sat down and looked pensively at the place. Then he smiled, and stood up.

"Time to go to work." Trodaire Phoenix said.

A/N: What do you guys think? Let me know!