Chapter Two: Tournament Day
James grunted for the umpteenth time as he stepped out of the shower. Even though he had taken the hottest shower he could stand he still suffered from stiff muscles, likely due to lack of sleep.
As he wrapped his towel around his waist, he caught a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror. Remembering Kimono's reaction from the night prior, he took a close look at himself to see what could have upset her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; while he didn't exactly have a bodybuilder's physique, he at least looked like someone who hit a non-Pokémon gym a few times a week. It occurred to him that he usually didn't interact with his Pokémon in any state of undress save during the hot summer days, when he might go shirtless while outside. For the most part, he appeared to be a fit, healthy twenty-six-year-old man… "So why did Kimono seem so upset?" he wondered out loud. Since the mirror didn't give him any answers, he tucked the question to the back of his mind and focused on the upcoming tournament as he dressed.
He was still rubbing his head with the towel as he entered the living room to find his friend pacing back and forth with worry in her eyes. "Are you okay, Kimono?"
She turned to him, studying his face for a moment. "I'm fine, James. I guess I'm…a little nervous."
"About the tournament?" he asked as he walked up to her and placed reassuring hands on her shoulders. "You'll be fine. You've worked hard, and I'll be there for you."
Her eyes noticeably widened. "Yes….you will, won't you? You've been there for me from the beginning."
"Uh, yeah," he replied, clearly confused. "I'm your trainer; that's…what I do."
Her mouth shifted to a rare smile as she gazed up at him. "I know. It's just…"
"What's bothering you?" he asked. "I'm no psychic, but even I can tell you haven't been yourself lately. Am I asking too much of you, competing by yourself like this?"
"No, no!" she exclaimed, stepping away from him to wrap her arms around herself. "I believe that I can win this, thanks to your guidance. If anything, I think I'm expecting too much of myself!"
"What do you mean?" James asked, pulling the towel from his head to toss it over the back of a nearby chair. "How are you asking too much of yourself? Do you…Can I help?"
"STOP!" she cried with a shudder. "You're my trainer, and I can't…"
"Can't what? Kimono, talk to me here; what's wrong?"
She suddenly glided forward, grabbing his shirt with a surprisingly strong grip in spite of her relatively small hands. "Please…let's…just go."
"Sure…okay," James replied, still clueless as to what was bothering his partner.
The Gardevoir seemed lost in thought as they headed away from their hotel and to the arena. Fortunately, even though James was well-known and well-liked like most Pokémon trainers, his fans made sure to respect his space, allowing him to walk relatively uninterrupted. He would normally give his time to the fans after a tournament, signing autographs and the like, but he preferred to redirect their attention to whomever he had brought with him.
As they headed down the last stretch to the competitors' entrance, he noticed a poster stuck to a nearby wall. On it was what he assumed was an artist's interpretation of a Gardevoir. The figure depicted looked more…human than his partner, with wide hips and a ridiculously large bust. Disgusted, he tore the poster off the wall and stuffed it in a dustbin as they passed. He then heard Kimono's familiar giggle in his mind. "It doesn't bother me…I actually think it's funny."
"Funny?" James snorted. "They're turning your kind into sex objects!"
"Do you think of 'my kind' that way?"
"Of course not!" James nearly yelled, drawing the attention of passerby. Quickly lowering his voice he continued, "But when guys draw stuff like that…I dunno, it's like they're robbing you of your dignity or something."
"Thank you for worrying about me," Kimono's voice sounded softly in his mind. "I can feel how much you care. That's why…"
James waited for her to finish, but nothing else was forthcoming. "'That's why' what? Kimono?"
She continued in silence, her gaze firmly on the ground before them.
As the trainer's entrance to the stadium came into view, James noticed a group of trainers clad in blue jeans and leather jackets hanging outside the door, smoking. "Team Switchback…just great."
He tried to avoid their gaze as he reached for the door handle but, of course, one of them spoke up: "Hey there, cutie," he said, obviously speaking to Kimono. "Wanna change loyalties?"
"No thanks," James answered, stunning the group as he guided Kimono into the building ahead of him, trying to leave the miscreant trainers surprised and away from his charge.
It did no good, however, as two of them simply followed him in. "Hey, we're not done talking to you!"
"James, let me talk to them," Kimono said as they hurried down the hallway.
"Are you sure?" he thought back.
"Please trust me."
They slowed their pace, allowing the Switchbacks to catch up with them. "Yeah, that's right," one of them said smugly, if panting lightly. "You don't get off that easily."
"How can we help you?" Kimono asked kindly.
"Hey, this one can talk!" the other trainer blurted as he reached into the bag slung over his shoulder. "We gotta get this one!"
"Are you stupid?" the first one said, grabbing at his arm. "We do that after the tournament, right?"
As the Switchbacks argued, Kimono and James exchanged a look. "I think they're a little on the stupid side, Kimono," James thought to his friend.
"So it would seem," she replied with an amused tone. "Are you done with us then?" she asked the arguing teens.
"Huh?" Two confused expressions turned their way. "Oh, right! So, you look like a really hot-I mean, really powerful one, and thought you might be interested in joining us."
"Thank you for noticing, but…why would I be interested?" she asked innocently.
"Because Team Switchback is the FUTURE!" they cried in unison as they performed a series of odd hand gestures toward each other, presumably their team signature.
"The future of what?" she asked as James crossed his arms, covering his mouth with a hand to hide the smile.
Both teens stopped mid-motion to stare at her. "The, uh…um…" one of them explained.
"The future of Pokémon, stupid!" the other one said, whapping his teammate on the back of the head. "So, whaddya say? Wanna ditch this loser and join the future? Hey, that rhymed! …Kinda."
"Do you even know who 'this loser' is?" she asked, gesturing to her trainer.
One of them narrowed his eyes at the veteran trainer. "Hey, now that you mention it, he does look familiar." He tapped a finger against James' chest. "You're that guy who lets his pets roam free, aren't you? Bottom something…"
"His name is James Gottum, and he is a great man," Kimono growled, though her tone was so even that only James could perceive her irritation. "He does not think of us as his pets, but as his friends and equals and…and…"
"Okay, okay," the teen replied, lifting his hands in surrender, "he thinks of his pets as friends, I got it. We do, too. So, wanna 'embrace' the future and leave the past behind?"
James inwardly groaned at the stupid pun as he shook his head.
"Your offer is very kind, but no thank you," Kimono said kindly. "But, just to show that there are no hard feelings…" she reached out and touched the side of the boy's head. "For good luck."
"Hey, thanks!" he said as he rubbed his temple. "Thanks a lot."
"Enjoy the tournament," James said as he followed his partner down the hallway. As they left, he started to say something to her before a loud THUMP interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to find the two Switchbacks on the ground, pounding on each other. "Kimono, did you use 'Confuse' on him?"
"Yes, James."
He glanced back a couple more times before chuckling lightly. "Nicely done."
"Thank you," she replied shyly.
He yawned through the opening speeches, but only partly due to lack of sleep; He'd been to so many tournaments that they had all started to sound the same at some point.
Finally, the 'parade' of teams marched, walked, or wandered across the field as their names were called.
"Next up is Team Gottum!"
James cringed at the announcement, but followed Kimono as she led them onto the field, forcing a smile while waving to the roaring crowd. It was his custom to follow his Pokémon; after all, if they were the ones who would be competing, then they should be the ones to get the attention. He could see lots of signs being held up by various spectators; most of them were in support of a specific team, like 'Go Team Nunchuk!' or 'Go Team Spiral', but some others were more…colorful. He saw more than one 'Marry me, Gardevoir!', causing him to wrinkle his nose. He suddenly felt a wave of hostility and looked to see Kimono glaring into the stands, and he followed her gaze, only to feel his face suddenly heat up at the sight of a sign reading 'Make me a Gottum!' - apparently a viewer from the previous day's interview. He looked back to Kimono, wondering why she seemed so angry by the sign. "You okay up there?" he asked.
A wave of embarrassment highlighted her answer. "I'm fine, James. Sorry if I upset you."
"Please remember that the use of Specials is prohibited during the opening ceremonies," a voice over the loudspeaker announced between introductions, causing the pair to exchange sheepish looks.
After the introductions the teams were released to tents set along the sides of the field to carry out final preparations.
"Just remember what I've taught you," James said to his partner. "Even if their trainers have taught them some new tricks, you should have a pretty good idea of what to expect from them."
"Right."
"And, since most attacks are called out beforehand, you'll have an advantage in being able to hear it."
"What if they use some other form of communication?"
"That's why I've taught you to look for patterns," he replied with an easy smile and a wink. "Remember, even we vaunted trainers can't memorize every Pokémon's moveset, so you'll have to be alert and ready to act at a moment's notice."
"I understand."
"Now," he said, patting his pack, "I've brought enough Potions and Ethers to keep you in fighting form; I don't expect you to win it all, but I do expect you to go out there and do your best. I know that this is your first tournament, but just remember what you've been taught and practiced, and you'll be just fine." He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I believe in you, Kimono."
"Th-Thank you, James…for believing in me," she replied, her 'voice' filled with emotion as she laid one of her delicate hands on his.
After that, they sat quietly next to each other, watching the first few matches of the first round. Kimono practiced analyzing the moves and patterns of each set of competitors, watching for weaknesses, anything she could use to her advantage for when it was her turn.
"Next up: Team Basement versus Team Gottum!" the announced called.
"I really gotta think of a better name," James grunted as he got to his feet before turning and helping Kimono to hers. "'Team Gottum' sounds cliché."
"Oh, not at all!" she protested. "It sounds noble to me!"
"Then you're very forgiving, Kimono," he quipped as they headed to their assigned end of the field. "How're you feeling?"
"Anxious, but ready."
They reached the marker where the Pokémon was expected to stand, and Kimono took her place. She then looked over her shoulder at her trainer. "I will make you proud, James."
"I already am," he replied with a smile. "Go get 'em, sweetheart." With that, he headed to the trainer's spot and sat down.
"That's 'Gottum style' on display, ladies and gentlemen!" the announcer boomed, his excitement a humorous contrast to the reclining trainer's relaxed posture, causing a wave of laughter to rise from the crowd. It was well-known that Trainer Gottum's 'style' of training was more like traditional coaching; he would teach his Pokémon as much as it was able to learn, but with one huge difference. Instead of standing around and shouting commands, he would teach it how to react to its opponent, reading its moves and countering them. When it came to Pokémon strategy, he was a pioneer in this regard. Thus, he would be more of a spectator at tournaments, only coaching his partners between rounds, and only if necessary.
Kimono paid scant attention to the announcer as she focused her attention on the trainer at the other end of the field. He was a young man, probably in his mid-teens, wearing blue overalls over a dirty white short-sleeved shirt. He wore a smug grin as he juggled a Poke Ball in one hand.
"It's a great day for a swell battle!" the announcer said. "And…begin!"
Team Basement's representative drew back his arm before sending his ball flying. "Go Rattata!"
"Gen One, huh?" James mused. "And a base, at that? Not named, either. They're either testing her or insulting her."
The ball hit the ground before splitting open and, in a flash of energy that brought James a flash of bad memory, a Rattata appeared, baring its fangs and snarling.
Less than thirty seconds later the young trainer was calling his battered Pokémon back to send out his next one. "Go Geodude!"
"Is he serious?" James grunted. "Two Gen Ones? Is this trainer in training?"
Round One against Team Basement was over in less than three minutes, and Kimono glided back to her trainer. "That was…disappointing."
"I hear you," James replied, "but good job out there! So, what do you think?"
"I'm not sure if they were testing me or insulting me," she started, bringing a smile to James' face. "I think that he was a new trainer with more confidence than skill. He didn't seem to know what to do with the Pokémon he deployed."
"Good, that was my thinking as well. Anything else?"
"Based on the movesets employed, I think that my opponents were all basics – no TMs or HMs had been used on them."
"Excellent!" he exclaimed, laying a hand on her back. "Keep it up, and you won't need me much longer."
"I will need you!" she exclaimed out loud, apparently surprising herself. "May…May I have an Ether?"
"Of course," he said, also surprised by her reaction. "Which potency do you need?" After receiving her order, he handed her the bottle and leaned against the wall, watching her as she drank. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the next trainer taking his place on the field. "We're almost out of time, Kimono. Do you need anything from me before you head back out?"
"Just your well-wishes," she said as she gazed into his eyes. "I could fight a whole army fueled by nothing but that."
"You got it," he replied with a smile and a squeeze of her slim shoulder. "Keep it up and you've got this."
He felt what he thought was a happy sigh as she turned and headed back out to her marker. He settled back down into his spot and leaned back on his hands to watch. He noticed an unusual amount of white in a section of the stands and looked to see several men in what appeared to be lab coats, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Professor Oak…?"
Sure enough, the man himself was making his way to a set of seats that had likely been set aside for him and his colleagues. Once they were settled in, James could see that Professors Rowan, Sycamore, and Kukui were with him. James briefly considered telling his partner about them but decided to keep it to himself; one, he didn't want to distract her and two, if she knew that they were there the knowledge might make her self-conscious, also distracting her. So he decided to tell her later as he returned his attention to the field.
He watched as Kimono glided around her opponent, dodging attacks while dealing her own and, like he always did, found himself awed by the gracefulness of her movements, the way one actions flowed into the next. It was like watching a form of martial arts, and he blinked as he realized that that may have been exactly what he was seeing. The subtle movements of her eyes that showed concentration, the deliberate positioning of the hands…
He internally fist-pumped as she twirled away from what could have been a particularly damaging attack and fired back with Disarming Voice. She had studied hard and it showed as her opponent fell unconscious to the ground.
James hurried to his feet and clapped as she made her way back to him. Over the din of the crowd the announcer could be heard to say, "What an amazing display of martial prowess, ladies and gentlemen! Two rounds so far, and I don't believe that Team Gottum's Gardevoir has been touched even once!"
"Her name is Kimono!" James yelled, shaking his fist at the announcer's booth, knowing full well that the guy couldn't hear him.
Kimono put her hand to her mouth, and he could hear the giggle floating through his mind. "It's okay, James; I don't mind being called your Gardevoir."
"Better than 'Switchback's Gardvoir' I guess," he grumbled, kicking at the ground as he looked down. "I just wish they'd get that all I do is coach you. This is a partnership, but they keep talking like I own all of you or something."
"You're…unique, James," she replied, touching her hand to his chin to tilt his face back up to hers. "I appreciate that about you."
His smile matched his feeling of awkwardness. "Thanks, Kimono. Let's…Let's get you ready for the next round, okay?"
"Okay," she replied, her voice little more than a caress against his consciousness.
