There was a clearing just outside of Aquacorde Town, and it was here that Damon and Tyrell took their places for their first official Pokémon battle. Savannah stood off to the side, holding Fennekin in her arms, and Professor Sycamore took his position as referee for the fledgling Trainers' battle.
"This will be a one-on-one battle between Damon Pierce and Tyrell James! I will call the match when I determine that either Pokémon is no longer able to continue!" Professor Sycamore called out.
Damon, knowing Froakie was on his shoulder for obvious reasons, reached up for the Water-type to smell his hand. He smirked and gently laid his hand over Froakie's head. The Water-type nuzzled his Trainer's hand and then hopped down from his shoulder. Damon breathed in deeply and relaxed his nerves. He heard footsteps approaching and the sweet smell of Pecha Berries. Damon felt a hand grasp his forearm and soft lips press against his cheek.
"You got this, babe," Savannah whispered encouragement into his ear.
The grip on his wrist left and footsteps leading away from Damon went silent. He smiled, feeling a lot less nervous about his coming battle against his longtime rival.
"Begin!" Professor Sycamore called out.
"Chespin, use Vine Whip!" Tyrell ordered.
A pair of vines shot out from the Grass-type's shoulders and zipped across the clearing to where Froakie stood. Damon could hear their approach and Froakie's eyes glanced back at his Trainer as he awaited the order to do something.
"Dodge," Damon countered.
Froakie leapt upwards with impressive agility and the Vine Whip stabbed into the earth where he was just standing. Everyone, but Damon had their attentions up to where Froakie was now hovering. His ascent came to a halt and the descent began.
"Swing your vines up at him, Chespin!" Tyrell continued on the offensive.
"Froakie, use your Frubble to pin Chespin's vines down," Damon countered.
Chespin leaned back in an attempt to swing his vines up from the earth, but sticky foam was thrown down onto them. He lurched forward, thrown off balance as wads of Frubble kept Chespin pinned to the ground. Once the Grass-type regained his footing, he fought fruitlessly to retract his vines or simply to free them from their sticky holding. Froakie landed on Chespin's vine right in front of the Grass-type. There was a cocky smirk on the Water-type's face.
"Pound!" Damon ordered.
White energy erupted around Froakie's fists and the Water-type spread his arms out wide before quickly collapsing them onto either side of Chespin's head. The blow discombobulated the Grass-type Pokémon, and Froakie leapt off the vines once they started to sway as well. He landed back in front of Damon where the Vine Whip protruded into the ground. Tyrell gritted his teeth as Chespin continued fighting off his disorientation. The Frubble began to give way and Damon heard the ripping of sticky foam lifting up from solid ground. He only had so much time before Chespin would be freed. He had to go on the offensive now.
"Bubble, Froakie!" he called out.
The Water-type jumped up and sprayed a bubbly flurry down onto Chespin. The impact knocked him off his feet and also freed the Grass-type's vines from the Frubble. They retracted back to Chespin and he slid across the clearing to Tyrell's feet. He was weakened from the two successful attacks hitting and he shook his head. The shell he wore as a helmet protected him from the majority of the blows though. Chespin glared at Froakie, unnerving the Water-type slightly. He didn't hold back at all during the battle, but his attacks only seemed to piss Chespin off.
"Now use Tackle!" Tyrell ordered.
Chespin ran forward, head lowered. Froakie readied himself to dodge the oncoming attack. Damon knew it was a trap and readied himself to the counter to his own counter with another counter.
"Dodge to the left!" he ordered.
Froakie leapt to the left out of Chespin's straightforward charge. Tyrell smirked, knowing full well Damon would dodge the attack rather than attempt to meet Chespin head-on.
"Chespin, stop! Catch Froakie with Vine Whip!" he called out.
"Block it with Frubble!" Damon countered, knowing he had to rely on Froakie's better agility.
Chespin slid to a halt as Froakie remained in the air from leaping out of the path of his Tackle. The Grass-type's vines shot out from his shoulders, aiming for Froakie, but the Water-type responded by chucking a wad of Frubble at the oncoming attack.
"Now lower your vines to vault yourself up!" Tyrell exclaimed.
Chespin hesitated; suddenly unsure what exactly his Trainer wanted him to do. This hesitation allowed the Frubble to get in closer than Tyrell wanted. Chespin did lower his vines out of the Frubble's path, and used them to vault himself upwards, but not in time to avoid the sticky foam. The Frubble stuck to Chespin's foot as he flipped over Froakie as the Water-type landed. Froakie turned to follow Chespin's trajectory, but failed to keep his attention on the real threat.
"Now bring your vines down onto Froakie!" Tyrell ordered.
Chespin twisted in midair and his vines cracked down onto Froakie's head, downing the Water-type into a cloud of dust. Damon's fists clenched as the countering match was won by Tyrell. Chespin landed opposite from where his Trainer stood, and close enough for Damon to hear the now familiar sound of Frubble sticking to the ground.
"Froakie, can you continue!?" he called out to his Pokémon.
Froakie croaked in response as he forced himself to stand. He saw his opponent's predicament before Chespin or Tyrell even realized themselves. Tyrell's brown eyes widened when he noticed the Frubble pinning his Pokémon down.
"Use Pound!" Damon ordered.
Froakie launched himself as the energy from his attack built up within his dominant fist. Chespin struggled to free himself, and met his Trainer's worried expression. Tyrell hesitated too much. He could have caught Froakie with Vine Whip, but he simply was thrown off too far by Chespin's current situation with the Frubble. He clenched his fists and went with the only idea he could think of.
"Lower your head! Use your shell!" he called out to Chespin.
The Grass-type lowered his head just in time to meet Froakie's fist. A burst of air exploded out in all directions from the point of impact and Froakie winced as a shockwave traveled up his limb, rocking his core. Both Pokémon fell back in a cloud of dust and Tyrell stepped forward to check on his Pokémon's condition. Professor Sycamore raised a hand to stop the young Trainer from advancing any further. He stepped into the dissipating dust cloud to check on the result himself. The dust settled and both Pokémon were unconscious as a result of their powerful impact.
"Both Froakie and Chespin are unable to continue battling! I declare this battle to be… a draw!" Professor Sycamore announced.
Damon's heart skipped a beat as the Pokémon Professor's words rebounded within his skull. He breathed out some of his worry and steeled himself as he trekked forward with his cane leading the way. A hand gently grasped his shoulder, forcing Damon to a stop. He fetched Froakie's Pokéball and quickly returned the Water-type to its confines so he could rest. Tyrell joined Damon and Professor Sycamore, returning Chespin to his Pokéball as well.
"That battle was truly something to behold. You both should be proud of yourselves for putting your all into it," Professor Sycamore stated.
"I didn't put my all into it," Tyrell responded with a strangely sour tone, "I could have responded with Vine Whip right there at the end, but I was off focus. It won't happen again."
He shot a look over Damon's shoulder as the latter tilted his head in confusion. Professor Sycamore followed Tyrell's gaze quickly and spotted someone watching their battle from afar. A tall, distinguished man with dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes turned his back when he realized he had been noticed. He wore an expensive business suit and carried himself with purpose. Tyrell's fists clenched tighter. He breathed a shaky sigh and collected himself.
"It won't happen again," he reiterated his earlier statement.
He clapped Damon on his shoulder, forced a smile, and then turned to leave. Damon cleared his throat, forcing Tyrell to a stop. He looked back at his rival and smirked.
"I sure hope it doesn't happen again. I do not wish to defeat you when you're not at your best after all," Damon stated.
"Same goes to you, man. Good luck and see you the next time I see you," Tyrell responded, "Oh, and you better keep treating Little Red like the queen she is. Anything less and you truly would not deserve her."
He saluted Savannah and hurried off out of sight before she could retaliate. Savannah joined Damon's side, grasping his hand to let him know she was there. He already knew her position; however, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Professor Sycamore turned toward them one last time and smiled.
"I hope to see you both at my Lab in Lumiose City. Feel free to visit," he told them.
"Of course, Professor. Thank you for everything," Savannah responded.
Professor Sycamore then made his leave as well. Only Damon, Savannah, and Fennekin remained in the clearing outside Aquacorde Town. The battle and Tyrell's reaction afterwards remained fresh on Damon's conscious.
"He was here, wasn't he?" he asked Savannah.
"Yep. He looked so disappointed," she responded sadly, "Why can't all Dads be like yours?"
"Persistently clingy?" Damon questioned in jest.
Savannah slapped his shoulder lightly. Damon smirked, and then released Froakie from within his Pokéball. The Water-type was conscious, but was a bit groggy from the battle. Damon knelt down, dug through his bag, and felt for an object of familiar size. An Oran Berry exited his pack within his grip. He offered the Berry to Froakie, who took it without hesitation. His energy now restored, Froakie croaked happily and climbed up onto Damon's shoulder.
"We're Pokémon Trainers now," Savannah commented as if realizing this for the first time.
She grinned up at Damon and kissed him quickly on his cheek. He had two red lipstick marks on either side of his face now. Savannah noted to remind him to wipe that off later. The couple then shouldered their belongings and ventured off away from Aquacorde Town. They crossed a cobblestone bridge and entered the Avance Trail.
The noise of the bustling, shop-filled town was behind the traveling couple. The only sound Damon could hear was the wind rustling through the tall grass and the occasional footsteps of something moving through the underbrush. He suddenly became aware of the sound of his own breathing as he continued along the route, hand-in-hand with Savannah. A beautiful song played over his head, forcing Damon to a stop. He listened to little wings flap and the bark of a nearby tree's branch crack under the slight weight of a wild Pokémon.
"Pokédex, on," he ordered, bringing out the blue device, "Scan Pokémon."
He aimed it at the last place he heard the wild Pokémon was and a blue light illuminated it. Secretly, Damon prayed that he was not simply scanning a tree branch. Luckily for him, the Pokémon remained right where he had thought it was.
"Fletchling, the Tiny Robin Pokémon. These friendly Pokémon send signals to one another with beautiful chirps and tail-feather movements," his Pokédex stated.
He pocketed the device and smiled to himself. He could use another fast, agile Pokémon. Fletchling would provide the flyer for his team; something Froakie was not able to provide. He felt the Water-type's weight shift on his shoulder in anticipation and Damon took a calming breath.
"Bubble!" he called out, alerting the Fletchling.
Froakie launched up and sprayed a bubbly flurry down at the Normal-and-Flying-type Pokémon. Fletchling flapped its little wings to push itself off the tree branch just in time to avoid the attack. It cried out in protest over being attacked, and then tried to fly away.
"Froakie, pin it down with some Frubble!" Damon shouted.
Froakie, who was still airborne, chucked the sticky substance that grew around his neck with perfect accuracy. Fletchling, now caught in the Frubble, was then stuck to a branch of another tree. Froakie landed and croaked up at Damon to follow him. Damon listened to his Pokémon's hops disturbing the route's serenity and stood before the trapped Fletchling. He took a Pokéball off his belt and opened it. A red light harmlessly broke Fletchling down to the molecular level and absorbed the Tiny Robin Pokémon into the Pokéball. It wriggled about in Damon's grasp and then went perfectly still.
"And that's how it's done," he stated, "Good job, Froakie."
"You wasted no time to catch a new Pokémon," Savannah commented as she approached.
"I'm a Trainer, sweetie. I need to build up my team. Ty's probably catching Pokémon as well," Damon responded.
"Challenging the League sounds stressful. I'm glad I'm undeclared," Savannah stated.
Damon chuckled. He clipped Fletchling's Pokéball to his belt and allowed Froakie to climb back up to his shoulder. There were many things an aspiring Trainer could do with themselves when they begin a journey. Most took on a League challenge where they would travel around whatever Region they are in and collect Gym Badges. Once they collected eight, they would be entered into the League where every other Trainer who also collected eight Badges would battle it out for a chance to battle the Elite Four gauntlet. All of this was for the opportunity to battle the Champion, a Region's strongest official Trainer.
Some Trainers became Coordinators where they would show off their Pokémon in Contests around the Region. Some became Breeders where they research the health and care of Pokémon. Some became Researchers where they would try to catalogue every native Pokémon in their Region's Pokédex. Some even tried to do it all, but almost all of them wind up flaming out, and focusing on just one task. Finally, some Trainers were just unsure of what they wanted to do with their lives, and take the opportunity to view new settings and figure it out along the way.
Savannah was in the last category. She was never interested in becoming a full-time battler despite her excellent results in school. She refused to stay home as well due to her strained relationship with her parents. Joining Damon on his journey gave her the best opportunity to avoid the stress at home, figure out her own life, and make sure Damon does not wind up falling in a ditch or something. The fact they could finally be together without parental oversight was just the sweet Cherri Berry on top.
"We won't be able to reach Santalune City by nightfall. We'll have to set up camp somewhere along the way," Damon stated.
"How do you know?" Savannah asked.
"I calculated how long it would take the average person to walk the Kalosian Routes beforehand," he explained, "There are three routes between us and the city: Avance Trail, which we are on right now, Santalune Forest, and finally Ouvert Way."
"So how long will it take us to reach the city?" Savannah asked.
"Hmm… Two and a half days; three tops," Damon responded.
"How're we gonna stay clean?" Savannah asked, becoming concerned.
"I came prepared as always. I have a portable shower and a portable shower tent," Damon revealed, "We'll be able to do our thing with privacy.
He felt her grip on his hand and her body press up against him. Savannah smiled, batting her eyelashes, and quickly left yet another lipstick mark on Damon's cheek. Froakie gave the redheaded woman an "are you serious" look that she ignored.
"You think of everything, don't you?" Savannah asked.
"You'd be amazed how much being blind allows me to just… think. It's so easy to become distracted by the random shiny object or Butterfree flying by," Damon explained, "All I have are sounds, smells, and touch and those are much easier to ignore."
"Oh?" Savannah asked, taking his hand and bringing it to her breast, "Is this touch easy to ignore?"
"It… isn't, but we should continue on our way. We're burning daylight," Damon stated, begrudgingly retracting his hand.
He and Savannah then continued the journey across Avance Trail. The trees thickened around them as they neared the outskirts of Santalune Forest. The sun was already well into the descent of its arc overhead. Damon then stopped and sighed while rubbing the sides of his left knee.
"I think we can set up camp around here," he stated, "Right? This is okay?"
Savannah looked around and shrugged her shoulders. It was okay. She patted Damon on his back and smiled.
"This is fine, babe," she told him.
"Good. Whew… I'm out of shape," he muttered before falling face-first into the dirt.
Froakie leapt off his shoulder to avoid being dragged down with his Trainer. Savannah rolled her eyes and quickly brought her pack down from her shoulders. She unzipped it and took out their two-person tent. Within minutes, she had it pitched and ready to go.
"I'm starving," Damon complained into the grass.
"Quit whining," Savannah responded.
She looked around and found some fallen branches at the base of a nearby tree. Savannah jogged over with Fennekin close behind. The Fire-type quickly snagged some twigs for herself and trotted back with her Trainer.
"You could help make a pit for the fire," Savannah suggested, "And then we can heat us up some grub."
Damon sat up, nodding in agreement. He tapped his chin as he formulated the best plan for them to use to dig a fire pit. He then held up a finger and grinned before spinning around to where he last heard his girlfriend's voice.
"Froakie, use Pound to dig a pit wherever Savannah wants you to," he instructed.
The Water-type nodded, croaked, and hopped forward to Savannah. He looked up at her as she tried determining the best spot for the fire pit. She then pointed out a patch of dirt and Froakie hopped over to it. His hands glowed brightly with white energy and he repeatedly punched the earth until a good-sized pit was carved into the ground. Savannah lay some of the firewood she had gathered in the pit and turned to Fennekin.
"Use Ember," she instructed the Fire-type.
Fennekin dropped the twig she was gnawing on and spat forth a burst of fire that ignited the wood Savannah had dropped in the pit. Damon was close enough the newly-formed campfire to feel its warmth. He swung his pack around onto his lap and dug into it in search of the food he had packed for the first leg of the journey.
"Aha!" Damon exclaimed the moment he felt the aluminum cans.
He pulled them out and Savannah cooked, because it was obviously a bad idea for a blind man to be anywhere close to a campfire. While she did this, Damon sent Fletchling out of his Pokéball, and fixed up three bowls for the Pokémon to enjoy their dinner in.
After the dinner this fan fiction writer refused to go into full detail over, because food in the Pokémon universe is still rather boggling to them, Damon and Savannah sat shoulder-to-shoulder by their campfire. Froakie and Fennekin sat on their respective Trainer's lap while Fletchling roosted himself atop Damon's head.
"I think we're going to do well," Damon admitted.
"We didn't die day one, so I'm compelled to agree," Savannah added.
"Well… there's plenty of opportunity for us to die tomorrow, or the next day, or the…," Damon responded.
Savannah cut him off by shoving him over. Fletchling flapped his wings to keep steady and Froakie hopped away to safety. Damon laughed as he righted himself and leaned back against Savannah.
"I love you," he told her.
"Love you too, babe," she responded, leaning her head against his.
There was a moment of silence between the two. All that could be heard was the flickering campfire before them.
"Wanna fuck?" Damon asked.
"Oh Arceus, I thought you'd never ask," Savannah replied.
She kicked dirt onto the fire to extinguish it and they both recalled their Pokémon to their Pokéballs. With gleeful giggles, the young couple retreated to their tent. Those giggles turned to moans fairly quickly.
