37 - High Point
I'm feeling a bit skittish in the heart and sluggish in the brain. The reason is most definitely the four hours of sleep that my body is currently trying to function off of, and failing horridly. Sleepovers at Whitney's were always interesting, to say the least, and last night's debacle was no exception. Without getting into too much detail, I was treated to a museum showcasing the physical manifestation of Whitney's sexual frustrations.
"I did not need to know what you did on the couch that I just slept on," I was telling my friend while we entered the gym. "That was not information you needed to volunteer. That was gross. I feel like I've been violated now."
"Ruff ruff!" Whitney replied in mimed insult. My enraged face contorted further.
"Not to mention, your food is atrocious!" She had nothing but sugar-saturated cereal meant for little children and some leftover rice available for breakfast. Guess which I picked.
"There's a snack machine in the lobby. Here's some change, go eat up, princess!"
"Don't tease me!"
"I would never tease your esteemed highness," she said in a deep and mocking bow.
Which brought to light the fact that I was dressed up in Aki Kinyobi's full sailor scout regalia, sans the dorky halo. How this happened, my groggy morning memory somewhat fails me. First there was the realization that I had not brought any change of clothing, then my prideful refusal to don any of Whitney's party-rock-inspired wardrobe, a long and arduous argument over social norms ensued, Erika's mediating voice intervened, the rational that I should dress to the occasion ("Gym Leaders are entertainers and performers as much as they are battlers, dear-") was put forward, and finally tired acceptance occurred. Hence, I was back in my uniform, skirt, stockings, and scarf.
"Put on the gloves, you've got to complete the look!"
"No! I can't handle the pokeballs with them on."
"But you're incomplete!"
"I look like a fantasy-movie reject!"
Bicker bicker bicker, all the way to the snack machine. Even as I stuffed my mouth on a bag of chips courtesy of Whitney's charity, I continued to argue and harass her. Our mobile melee was carried past the lobby and out onto the gym floor.
"I don't need to be eye-candy for the men, they gawk enough as-is. Dressing up ought to be for- hey Whitney?"
"Impressing men with our looks is what gives us control over them! Being demure plays right into their-"
"Whitney."
"-designated domesticated role they've reserved for women! What is it?"
"What the heck happened to your gym?"
"Huh? I told you, a power surge."
"No, power surges don't do this."
"Uh, yeah they do."
I gawked.
Whitney's gym uses a mosaic of rising and falling blocks, eight feet on a side, that can be configured into any floor plan desired. The idea was to create mazes that challengers had to navigate en route to battling Whitney. One of her devilish tricks was to have the maze reconfigure after each Gym Trainer battle.
So when I heard her floor was messed up by a power surge, I expected, at worst, an unnegotiable maze of randomly assorted blocks locked in place.
I did not expect a giant, semi-compact clump of cubes hanging in mid-air and slowly orbiting the room.
"I'm supposed to battle… where, exactly?" I uttered.
"Well, you can fight on top of the sphere, or inside of it- it's hollow. Or you can try to dance around the projector field."
"That was rhetorical. This question isn't, you clodhead: what the heck happened here?!"
"I switched from hydraulics to anti-grav for my block system. Hydro was breaking down all the time and took too long to repair; anti-grav is faster, you can replace a projector in ten minutes. More expensive though. Ah, well, the instructions didn't say it would go haywire when a power surge struck."
Wow.
I don't even… it's like a planetarium. I'm not sure how I'm even supposed to field my Pokémon onto that, let alone fight a battle on top of it. Even as I watched it, the mass of cubes flipped over suddenly, without warning. Below, the exposed anti-grav projectors crackled with ominous electrical arcs.
Right, so that's safe…
"Come on in. I've got everything set up for the teleconference," Whitney urged me away from the Distortion World set piece.
"How are you going to fix this? We can't battle on that!"
"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. Come on, it's almost time."
I was forced backwards into the office, staring at the problematic playfield the whole way. 9:00 was fast approaching and the third member of our troop was nowhere to be seen. Reluctantly, my worries and voiced concerns switched from my upcoming match to our missing Ecruteak Gym Leader.
"Four," Whitney corrected me.
"What? Who?"
"I invited Falkner over to join us, too, since he didn't want to fly home in the dark."
"You invited that bastard?!"
"Sheesh, what's your problem?" Whitney gave me a "Get over yourself!" kind of look.
"I hate that boy. Must he be here?" It's bad enough I have to deal with his misogynist messages and incessant opposition during the telecons, but considering our history together, it irks me to be in the same city as him, let alone the same room!
"Piper down. Be civil, it's really not like you."
"You should heed her advice. You've been getting more volatile in public lately, and your polite and shy persona is losing credibility," Erika warned, coming up from behind me. Of course, she had a stiff, yet pretty, cream-white dress readied for today. Too bad she had failed to mention we were staying overnight, or I might have been spared the indignity of my current outfit.
"You're all doing this on purpose," I bemoaned. "You wanted to see me in your costume some more, didn't you?"
"No, it merely slipped my mind, I swear."
Ignoring her, I turned on Whitney. "And you just want to set me up with Falkner, don't you?!"
"Sure, why not? That'll free up Morty for me, and I won't worry about winning Brawley anymore!" Whitney cheerfully exclaimed.
"Troll," I replied, deadpan.
The man in question, Falkner that is, appeared at the doorway. Immediately dagger-like stares were sent flying at one another, although no words were exchanged. Whitney thought nothing of our hostility and went up to greet him.
"There you are. Missed ya at the party."
"Sorry. I was hanging out with the Kanto crowd," he replied. "Why is she here?" he demanded, nodding my way.
"She's my friend too. No one wanted to go home early, so they all stayed overnight. Nice timing, right?"
"Awful timing, if you ask me. I hope she's more civil in person than over the web."
"As if I'm the one who acts so childish after not getting my way," I muttered to Erika. My friend responded with a silently mouthed agreement.
Whitney sat us down at various computer terminals around the office. I purposefully found the two that were closest to each other and reserved both seats. Another glare dared Falkner to try to take this seat, and thankfully, he didn't even threaten. He took the workstation farthest from me and everything was set. The atmosphere of the room settled down to a stalemated, if not entirely peaceful, state.
Ten minutes past nine, and still no sign of blondie.
Twenty-minutes past, and I was starting to get worried.
Chuck and Clair appeared on the computer screen.
"What's the deal? Why are you all shoved onto one little window?" Clair demanded to know.
"We're all at my gym today."
"Huh?"
"We had a Halloween party last night, it was a blast. Literally. The four of us are sharing my office for the telecon," Whitney explained.
"Annoying. Fix it so you all go back to your proper windows! And where's that blond mongrel? Is he going to miss another meeting?"
"I'm here."
"Morty!" I squeaked. He practically stumbled through the doorway and straight to my side.
"Ugh." His throat and his body made all manner of unseemly noises. The dark rings beneath his eyes had gotten noticeably saggier.
"What's wrong?"
"Uhh… had trouble sleeping."
"How many hours did you get?"
"Two, maybe three if you count rolling around the bed and over-thinking things."
"Poor thing." I lowered my voice. "I hope I didn't keep you up with that little present last night," I said to him. Morty shrugged it off.
"Nah, although that was nice."
"Alright, we can start," Whitney declared.
Except we couldn't, because the most important member of our group had yet to appear on screen. After several more minutes of awkward fidgeting and dilly-dallying, it became apparent that we were missing our association chairperson. The silence dragged on until it became tension, and then nervousness. It was as if no one wanted to be the person who asked the obvious first. I nudged Morty to fulfill that role, but he refused with a shake of the head.
At last, Chuck saved us.
"Where is Pryce?"
"I don't know," a chorus of relieved Gym Leaders chirped.
"I transferred all the relevant files and accounts over to him," Clair said. "Can't do a thing without him."
"I'm kind of busy today, I can't be here forever," Falkner complained.
"Give him a little more time," Morty urged.
"Hmm, well, he's right, we can't waste the whole day here," Whitney said.
"Pryce told me he had an important matter for us," Clair said. "We have to wait. Hold tight everyone. I'll make a call."
My nerves were tightening a bit. It's rather uncharacteristic of Pryce to be rude or lazy like this. He kept an orderly life, and rarely overcommitted himself. His claim was that if he wanted to keep a lax, obligation-free schedule, he better well be on time for the few occasions he was expected to show up for.
Whitney grew bored. She sent an invite to a game of Jump'n'Bump over the local network. Morty accepted, and after a little coaxing, I joined in as well. Falkner and Whitney's team dominated, on account of Erika sucking at computer games and having to rely on a crappy AI partner, and I dragged Morty down with a poor, distracted performance.
"Come on Spoink, you can do better than that," Whitney called over, referring to my game avatar. As I watched helplessly her Bunnelby ground-pounded my Spoink yet again, smashing it into a pile of sparkles.
"What do you think happened to Pryce?" I whispered to Morty. He shrugged, clearly upset and worried himself.
At 10:10 I began getting antsy. The game wasn't meant to be entertaining for more than a half-hour, Pryce's absence was weighing on our minds, and I also began wondering about the arena and my upcoming match with Silver.
Click.
The video feed for Pryce's gym winked on. What I saw almost broke my heart.
"My apologies," Pryce said.
He looks terrible. His voice is cracked and groggy, worse than us sleep-deprived kids. His usually trim chin was coated with stubble, obviously not having been shaved for several days. He had to slowly lower himself into his seat, so that the crackling of worn joints and strained muscles was palpable. His eyes, oh god, his eyes were teary and red.
"My apologies. Shall we begin?"
"Is something the matter?" I asked openly.
"No, Jasmine, I'll be fine," he said shortly, and motioned, feebly but with determined effort, for us to drop the matter and continue. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. You all must have busy schedules, so let's make this short."
Not reassured in the slightest, we settled in for the meeting. Role call, minutes, and other formalities were skipped, with only the barest of official procedures being tacked on.
"Well, on to the two most pertinent topics. Firstly, the National Gym Leader Alliance."
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Now that he's taken a seat, it seems like he's okay for the time being, and his voice is getting stronger and surer.
"The League has taken proactive measures and ruled against collective bargaining. Joining the alliance would be symbolic at this point. However, they have agreed to 'fair wage increases' to cover the true cost of operations and regulations. In addition, we will be allowed a stipend of 5,000 to hire assistants."
"8,000 for all assistants combined?" Chuck asked for clarification.
"No, 8,000 per head, per month, although a limit of only two. We are not to take anything for ourselves."
That's good. Even if the amount is tiny, it'll help keep Connie happy. That's enough for a college textbook, or an arms-full of items from the pokemart. I don't know who I'd give my second slot to, Janina or Ted. Perhaps I can make them split it? Whatever, I'll figure it out. Best of all, that means I can stop paying them out of my own salary, which makes it an indirect wage increase.
"When do these go into effect?" Morty asked.
"January."
Crap. That's after probation. Here I was thinking I could use the funds to streamline my gym and make it easier to keep my job.
"When are we getting actual pay-raises?" Whitney asked.
"I asked about that-" Pryce suddenly bent over, letting out a painful-sounding cough, before righting himself, "-that, but they didn't have any answers."
"Ridiculous," Chuck stated, and everyone nodded in agreement. "We can't live on our salary alone."
"It's hard, I know," Pryce admitted. "Especially for you younger ones. You don't have the generous pension rates my generation had."
Morty shook his head in disappointment. "It's the local government's fault too. Johto has more regulations than anyone else in the nation. We don't have time to take side jobs like Sinnoh, Hoenn, or Kanto."
"Is it really that bad?" Erika asked me. She had taken the terminal on the other side of the desk, and was now leaning across.
"It's mostly one stupid law. Here, Gym Leaders are personally responsible for everything that happens at their gym, legally speaking. So on top of all the work we put in, we have to double-check every last little thing to make sure it's okay and in compliance, because if something goes wrong and someone gets hurt, we're on the hook, not the Pokémon League. That's probably an extra ten hours a week for me. Plus, I usually oversee the open-practice periods, since I don't really trust anyone but Connie to run the gym, even during off-hours, and she has college classes."
"How many hours do you work?"
I wrinkled my brow in calculation.
"Without probation? Sixty, thereabouts."
I marveled at that. How was I having such an active social life, working on probation work, and keeping my gym in order and operational, all at the same time? There didn't seem like enough hours in the week to do it all.
I let out a yawn.
That's how. I've sacrificed all my spare time, and a good chunk of my sleeping, eating, and personal upkeep time. My apartment is worse than ever; it hasn't been cleaned since before the summit. I've been forced to skip some days for shaving, so that the stubble in my armpits was chaffing and irritating. I haven't had a proper meal in six days; the closest I've come was the burger joint we stopped by before coming to the party.
"Sixty hours is far too much. That's how much time I spent on my gym and flower shop combined," Erika said, appalled.
"I know, right?"
While I was preoccupied by Erika's question, the topic of wages and unionization was concluded without much more of note. Pryce began slowly tapping at his computer keyboard, apparently struggling with the new technology.
"There it is," he declared. "Our second vital item to cover today."
We awaited in not-so-eager anticipation.
"So, last meeting we agreed to reject the Pokémon League's candidate for Azalea Town's vacancy. Well, now they've sent back another candidate, and this one looks closer to our-" -and here he specifically shifted his gaze upwards, and I could tell it was meant for me "-specifications."
Falkner let out an exaggerated sigh. He shot me a glance from across the room, as if warning me not to cause another ruckus over the League's decision.
"Well, who is it?" Whitney piped in.
"One second- there. Take a look."
A face popped up on my screen, followed by a short biography.
She looked middle-aged, maybe upper-twenties. Her hair was shoulder length, jagged, dark, and had a tinge of olive-green to it. Her eyes matched, olive irises and dark, focused pupils. She had a sharp nose and distinct chin, and lips that were drawn into a forced smile. Her whole look was reminiscent of a personified thorn bush, or so I thought.
"Her name is Jade Aokigahara. She is highly ranked, averaging as the sixth best trainer in Johto over the past two years, and has earned two victories in Premier Tournaments. She is-" another pause for emphasis, "- a Poison-type specialist."
Grr. I thought we asked for a Bug specialist!
"However, her team leader is an Ariados, and she is familiar with many Poison-Bug dual-type Pokémon. She has familial ties to the area, and is considered a promising entrepreneur capable of revitalizing the local economy."
"AND she's a woman," Falkner added.
Right, rub in the obvious, nascent retard.
"Yes, Falkner, she would balance the gender ratio of our league," Pryce said with a weary sigh.
Falkner shot me another dirty look, as if to say 'Happy now, bitch?'. I didn't want to keep fueling this childish feud, so I turned my attention to the computer screen.
I looked over her profile carefully, taking my time to dissect it. Although I can't say I liked everything I saw, there wasn't anything I could object to either. She was a female, a Bug user, if not specialist, had community connections, and had very credible achievements, both in Pokémon battling and business operations.
"Hmm."
Looking up, both to the screen and the physical room, I found myself under the watch of everyone else present.
"What?"
They just kept staring at me.
"I don't have any objections," I let out, annoyed that everyone expected me to cause a scene. It's like, 'Is that how far my reputation has fallen?' It seems I can't be a stubborn, willful, idealistic feminist, and a shy, modest, respected maiden at the same time. One or the other, can't be both.
'But they're both facades,' I caught myself thinking.
"Good, I suppose we don't need a vote. Jade will be the new Gym Leader of Azalea Town. Make sure to call and congratulate her when she takes up residence."
Pryce let out another cough.
"Now, that's all that's important today. My sincere apologies, but I'll be off. You may leave a message in my e-mail if you need to speak with me."
With a click, his video feed cut off. The other Gym Leaders began a light discussion about money matters that quickly devolved into argument.
"That's really unsettling," I whispered over to Morty. "Pryce-"
"Are you there?"
A message window appeared on my screen. It was Pryce. He hadn't left after all, but why?
"I'm here."
"Good, good. I was afraid you would leave."
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Just a little under the weather. Don't worry about it. Let me worry about you- although I probably shouldn't, given my news."
"What is it?"
"Your progress report came in."
My chest thumped. Oh, wow, he gets those? I hadn't gotten anything this week, I was a little worried.
"184 and 183. Do these numbers mean anything to you?"
"No, I can't think of anything."
"That is your win ratio. You are just above 50%."
"!"
I only meant to put three exclamation points up, but ended up mashing the button down before hitting the return key. My jaw dropped.
I've done it.
"Congratulations. You may celebrate a little, but don't rest easy. You still have to hold it there until the end of probation, and you also have your written exams to complete. Oh, and I'd be chilled to think of you stooping so low, but don't do anything like win-trade or baiting the fishies, the League would not be happy about that."
"Thank you so much for this news! No, I promise I'll do my best and earn my gym back the right way!" I typed out. By now my seat was shaking from my rump eagerly and repeatedly departing it in favor of going airborne, only to be routed by gravity. In simpler terms, I'm giddy.
I pointed at the screen for Morty.
"Nice! You know, I'm pretty sure only Clair has better than you in the Johto League."
"I have to work for it, I can't slack off like you all," I countered. Yes, it is worth reminding myself that I have to keep winning in order to maintain that ratio. Not only do I have to win more than I lose, I need to keep beating all the former challengers who come in for rematches, or else that will erase victories and add losses at the same time. Still, if I can keep going at this rate, I'll be sitting pretty come December 10th. As for the written tests, everything but the facilities upkeep section will be a breeze, and even that one shouldn't be too much trouble.
Honestly, I can't describe how excited I am.
For the first time in forever, I feel like my life is back on track. Heretofore I had 'hope': vague, intangible, and unsatisfactory. Now I have 'progress': real, concrete, and believable; something I can be proud of.
Recap:
I have a positive win ratio, and the vast majority of my paperwork is finished. I have supreme confidence in myself going into the exams.
I'm surrounded by loving and caring friends. They just took me out for a wonderful, memorable night, full of horror and hoaxes and laughs and thrills. In the moment, it hadn't been any fun, but looking back I'm sure I can laugh about the whole murder-mystery/ghost-hunting experience.
My Pokémon are with me. They're getting stronger and bonding tighter than ever before.
My precious Pokémon, Amphy, has finally found happiness in the embrace of another of his own kind. Spectra is fast becoming family to us, and the love of his life.
And, maybe, very likely, I've found the love of my own life, sitting right beside me, the enabler to all of the above. Last night, we shared a kiss- uncorrupted, untainted, pure, blissful, happy, and without any reservations- a kiss that I welcomed and enjoyed. I have no regrets about it.
My life is so happy right now. I would say I can't describe it, but I think I just did!
"Besides your career, how are you faring? I hear you are being more sociable." I haven't talked with Pryce lately, but he does have a knack for getting the latest news and gossip.
"You could definitely say that."
"Was that Whitney I heard in the background? Are you two together at the moment?"
"Me, Whitney, and Morty are all at Whitney's gym for the teleconference. Long story, spook party last night. Oh… I guess Falkner's here too."
"Falkner? I've heard you were warming up to a certain fellow, might he be the one?"
"No! Heck no!"
"Oh, I must have been mistaken."
"It's Morty. Morty's the one I've been hanging out with," I messaged.
"I see."
That's all he wrote. I was wondering if he would add something onto that, but after a minute, nothing was forthcoming. Did he not approve of Morty?
"Is something the matter?" I finally messaged him.
"No. Sorry. I think it's wonderful if you've found someone who can make you happy."
"I can't tell from text whether that's sarcastic or not."
"Me? Sarcastic? I'm offended, young miss. Whatever gave you that foolish idea?"
"I don't know. Do you not like Morty?"
"He's as fine a young man as I've ever known, if typically foolhardy. I don't mean to dissuade you from a relationship with him."
Okay, what is that supposed to mean?
"Is there something else?" I asked directly.
"Well, it's all so abrupt and out of character for you."
"I guess it would look that way. My life is in kind of a whirlwind right now."
"No need to explain further. These messaging programs aren't the best way to have a proper chat."
"Yes, I agree."
Trying to text with Pryce was always a bother. If people thought I was being overly anal for insisting on correct grammar and complete sentences when texting, Pryce just carries it to a whole new level. Texting with him is like writing a formal two-way essay via Slugma-mail.
"I don't know if I'll have any time though to come meet you." Or money, I didn't add.
His answer was slow in coming, again.
"Excuse me."
"Hmm?"
"Oh, just my cold. Once I get past this bug, I'll be sure to find time to come see you then. I think it's time I shared a little piece of wisdom I was saving for you."
"That is?"
"Something private, I'm rather reluctant to share over the internet. They say the government is spying on our email now."
I smirked. Don't tell me Pryce is falling for that choke-worthy conspiracy theory.
"You're joking."
"I am."
"It's hard to tell."
"It's the texting, it can't convey feelings. That's why I wanted to see you in person. So don't go doing anything rash before I have a chance to talk to you again, alright?"
"Yes, grandpa."
His next entry was also slow in coming.
"HAHAHA! That was very funny."
Oh, so he was busy laughing. I didn't think I said anything terribly funny, though.
"Good luck on your probation endeavors. Keep in touch."
"Will do. Bye."
The window went dead, Pryce's icon showing an 'offline' tag.
"Seems like he cares about you," Morty said over my shoulder.
"Eeek! Don't snoop on me!"
"Sorry, sorry." He backed off a bit, allowing me to swivel around in my chair to face him.
"Spying on me? Curious about me?" I asked him.
"Guilty and guilty," he responded. "You two have always been close. Kind of made me wonder if you were related somehow. Grandpa? Was that actual?"
"No," I waved him off. "We're not related. He's just been very good to me over the years. Unlike most men." I glared and frowned directly at Morty.
"He is a nice guy. Helped me out when I first got the Ecruteak job, so I guess I understand."
"No, you don't. Without him, I never would have gotten my job. I would still be stuck at home and working some crap minimum wage job with no free will. He stuck his neck out really far." I puffed my chest out in pride. "Did you know I was the fourth youngest person to ever represent a gym, ever, anywhere?"
"Really? How old were you when took over?"
"Fifteen and one month."
"Freshman in high school, and you were leading a gym… dang. I wish I could have started out that early."
"You would have missed out on your precious high school years," I pointed out.
"Yeah. How'd you get away with that? I thought the League was pretty strict on the 18-year-old age limit. Was that Pryce's doing?"
"Mmhm. I was the acting Gym Leader, but he was the sponsor. He was on the hook for anything that happened in the gym." For the three years I played the role of Gym Leader, but didn't actually own the position, I was fairly nervous. Any screw-up or malfeasance I did would be legally pinned on Pryce, and we'd both take the fall. I didn't even realize how much liability he was taking, and how many hundreds of risks and infractions I could have accidently put to him, until I took the Gym Leader qualification courses for myself. Finishing my certification was an immense relief.
"I get it, he means a lot to you." Morty went silent.
"What is it?"
"I'm jealous."
"Jealous? Of Pryce?"
"Yeah. I want to be the guy you look up to like that," he admitted.
"Impossible," I said in rebuke. "I don't want to look up to my boyfriend; I want to look him level, in the eye." For emphasis I pulled Morty down by his sweater, until we were even in height.
"Like this."
Morty rolled his eyes and dropped another head's worth of height below me.
"Don't you mean like this?"
"What? No!"
"Because you seem like the kind of girl who wants to top in a relationship."
"That's a trap," I asserted. "If I say yes, I'm a control freak. If I say no, you're getting me to admit I'm inwardly meek and just want to be dominated by a man."
"You're over-thinking this."
"Get off the floor."
He did, and then pulled his chair up to mine and sat himself forward on it, close enough to talk privately, without being overheard. A glance sideways and I caught an eager Erika trying to listen in.
"Are you staying for the battle?" I asked.
"Of course."
"What about your gym?"
"It'll be fine. Danielle's there, she can take care of challengers."
"She's already back at the gym?"
"Yeah. Drove back overnight."
"And you're not worried she'll think you're shirking your duties and piling all the responsibility on her?"
"Not worried at all."
"That's inconsiderate."
"Hardly. She would think I'm lazy no matter what I do. She doesn't mind the extra work, she just uses it to justify her ambition of stealing the gym from me."
"Aren't you worried she'll steal your gym?"
"I thought you were studying the rulebook."
"Not this part."
"Or you skipped over it. I hope you're studying, exams can be tricky."
"Just tell me about the rules already."
"There are no rules for taking a Gym Leader's position. It's near-impossible. She'd have to catch me doing something criminal, or committing major infractions, and even then she's not guaranteed the spot if I get kicked out."
"That's not going to stop her from trying."
"No, and that's what I like about her. She tries so hard, it's cute. And she tends to nip a good number of the more dangerous trainers from reaching me, makes my job easy."
"Kehkeh, you make it sound so idyllic. How do you have it so easy and I struggle? I don't honestly think it's because you're better than me."
Morty leaned back in his seat, searching for an explanation.
"I bet it's because I levy charges, and you don't. Extra money makes everything easier. You have, what, four under-aged assistants?"
"Three, and only two are under-aged."
"I have twenty."
I nearly gagged.
"Twenty?!"
"It's because I made my gym a hip place to hang out. Got a lot of volunteers to work under me. They get the privilege of hanging out with the cool ghost squad, and I get cheap labor."
"Dastardly. I mostly get challengers and school kids."
Thinking on it, I do get a remarkable number of middle schoolers. I guess the free admission makes it a popular destination for field trips.
"Wow, I didn't even realize," I said.
"What's that?"
"How kid-oriented my gym is. Like, I have four classes this week, where I'm supposed to teach kids how to take care of their Pokémon. The basics: pokeballs, grooming, feeding, watering, what the different groups require, giving attention, yada yada."
"Cute," he said, looking directly at me.
"Don't say-"
"You'll make a good mother someday," he added on. I looked away, face reddened.
"Especially don't say that," I warned him.
"It's 10:50. When's your match?"
"Noon."
"Let's grab something to eat, then."
I assented, and we made to depart. I told Erika where we were headed. Outside in the main battle hall, Whitney was busy dictating to a chaotic horde of engineers, trainers, and Psychic and Electric Pokémon, trying to get them to work together in an attempt to fix the arena.
"We'll have this right as rain!" Whitney called after me.
Once out the door, Morty led me down a corner, towards what looked like a park and a row of small outdoor eateries. We made it to a corner before he pulled me aside suddenly. My back was placed against an arch, and Morty's masculine body loomed over me.
"What are you doing?" I demanded.
"I can't wait. I want another," he said.
"Really?" I rolled my eyes, huffed, sighed, and at last, gave in.
No matter how I felt about it after-the-fact, kissing is always utterly pleasant in the moment. This time, it was short, deep, hard, but as I pulled away I hesitated for a long while. Our lips faintly danced upon one another, barely touching, like a pair of feathers brushing in the wind.
This state of affairs lasted a minute, before I tore away, embarrassed. There were other humans taking glances, or stares, at us. Even young couples were gazing with mixed looks of perturbed wantonness and guilt that they could not be so brazen as this pair of crazy lovers.
"Do you need more?" I asked faintly.
"Are you willing?"
"No. I'm hungry."
"Then come on. Also, look over there."
He took me by the waist and guided me towards the diners row. His arm outstretched and pointed to a table in the middle of the plaza. There, sitting, eating, and chatting happily, was the couple who had last been seen gnashing at each other's throats.
"See? Angry sex leads to happy good mornings."
Ethan seemed at ease, responding crisply, and usually with a smile, to anything Lyra belted out. One of their Pokémon, it looked like a Vulpix, was hunched proper-like on the table. The pair took turns feeding it spoonfulls from their own desserts.
"Do you want to join them?" Morty asked.
"Could we have a meal to ourselves?"
"Of course."
And so the hour before my match was slated to start passed by peaceably and pleasantly. We ordered, ate, Morty offered to pay the bill, but I insisted on covering my share. I later found out that he lied about the tab and still ended up paying for half of my meal (gosh! inflation in the big cities is killer!). We talked about this and that and filled in the details we hadn't already shared about our lives. We played footsies. Lyra spotted us on our way out, and so we ended up joining together on the way back to the gym. She had a joke whose punch line escaped me, but everyone else thought it was hilarious and so I laughed along with them.
"We're getting a new Gym Leader in Azalea soon."
"Really? Are they any good?"
"Supposedly."
"Awesome! I ought to go down there and challenge them sometime!"
"But you have Azalea's badge already."
"Doesn't matter, I just want the competition."
"How long are you going to hang out in Johto snacking on small fry? Why not go to Unova? That's where the powerhouses are gathering this winter."
"A little while longer, I guess. I'm waiting for a few last things to finish here."
"Do you mean Red?"
"Yeah, he's one thing."
"What's the rest?"
Lyra waved her head goofily and coyly and didn't answer out loud.
"So what's the new Gym Leader like?" she asked instead.
"Her name is Jade, she's a Poison-type user, and we don't know much more than that," Morty said.
"She runs two business in Mahogany: a trainer academy and a profitable pharmaceutical company, her father and mother are both from Azalea, although she wasn't born there, her favorite attacks are Toxic and Double Team, and she would have, on average, the fastest team amongst the Johto leaders. She relies on kiting tactics to wear her opponents down before finishing them off with coverage attacks."
Heads turned my way, broadcasting disbelief.
"I actually read the bio, unlike you," I retorted, specifically to Morty. "I don't think it's prudent to rubber stamp appointments. We're going to have to work with this person for at least a few years, we ought to put more consideration into it."
"Jasmine, half that stuff wasn't even in the bio, and yes, I did read it."
"Use your brain, dummy. Aokigahara is one of the most prominent clans in the Azalea area; Toxic is on four of her Pokémon and Double Team is on three; Crobat, Venomoth, Seviper, Tentacruel, that centipede-thing, and Ariados are all fragile speedsters, a stall-and-kite strategy would be second nature to them. It's basic deduction."
"You're a regular Prof. House. Got anything more?"
"No," I said in a huff. "I don't know anything about her personality, which is what worries me. What if she's another pain in the bun like Falkner?"
"What do you have against Falkner?"
"Something that happened awhile ago. Don't ask about it. It's nothing."
"If you say so."
"On topic, the first time we would have a chance to meet her, I'm guessing, is the holiday ball."
"Sooner, for me. I'm planning an excursion down to Ilex soon, got a haunted shrine to check out," Morty said. "I can scout her out for you, see if you two would get along or get into a catfight."
"That's not necessary."
"Suit yourself."
"I'm excited. A new Gym Leader, and she's kind of a mystery. I guess I'll get to meet her and battle her before any of you. Lucky me, right?" Lyra beamed.
"Even if she changes the badge's name and appearance, though, you won't need to earn it; your old Hive Badge is still legal tender."
"I know, I just like to test myself against all the greatest trainers. She is good, right?"
"I think so, yeah. Didn't they say she's ranked seventh, or close to that, in Johto right now?"
"That's right," Morty nodded.
"Which ranking? Who's number one?" Ethan asked consecutively.
"Um… I don't remember. Jasmine?
"I don't remember either. How do they figure rankings out, anyways? Do they only count trainers from that region, or are visitors included? How are they scored? Win ratio? ELO? Power Rankings?"
"Don't know. That's the problem with rankings, they're so subjective. Even ELO is supposed to be all statistics, but based on what formula you use, you can bias it one way or another. That's why I was wondering whose system they were using."
"True. Oh I see."
"Still, hey, Ethan! Show them that site you use."
"What site?"
"That one you're always checking before matches."
"PGL?"
"Yeah, show them that one."
"PGL?" I said aloud.
"Pokémon Global Ladder. They release rankings for trainers all over the world," Ethan explained. "I don't think their system is particularly better than others, but they're the most comprehensive site, and the forums get a lot of good, smart debate."
"Show them," Lyra insisted.
Ethan brought out his smart phone, pulled up the website, and handed it over.
Pokémon Trainer Global Rankings
Filter: Johto League participants
Filter: Search- Jade
3 Results Found:
#8 Jade Aokigahara
#345 Jade Lei'shan
#1875 Tsubasa Jade
"According to this, she's ranked eighth in the region," I announced. That's pretty darn impressive, especially for a would-be Gym Leader. Very few trainers get to be that good and then opt for the less-lucrative honor of squatting in a gym all day waiting for brats to come and steal your badge. The tournaments and circuits offer too much money to pass up, and finals victories are much more glamorous. I voiced this wonderment out loud.
"Why would she take the Azalea position? She's obviously good enough to compete in the Johto League Championships."
"Who knows? Why does anyone become a Gym Leader?" Morty asked.
"Pride. Civic service. By accident, or because they can't do any better."
"Which one of those apply to you?" he put to me.
"All of them," I responded, refusing to be shamed by the circumstances that brought me to my present situation.
"It's a distinguishment, isn't it?" Ethan said. "Your job isn't just a recognition of how good you are in the arena, it's also the service you do outside of battles too, right?"
"True," I said. "BUT, I got the job because Mr. Beret picked me to succeed him. Olivinians never batted an eye; Beret's word was the word of god, no one was going to argue with him. I guess I inherited the goodwill he spent his lifetime stockpiling."
"You've lived up to that legacy," Morty insisted. "You've done pretty good by your city, I hear."
"I don't know. What have I done?"
"Made your gym into a community learning center," Morty said. "They think of it as a safe haven. Gang activity has gone down since you started letting teens hang out there for free."
"Really? How did you know that?"
"You think I'd ask you to be my girlfriend without trying to get to know you? You're in the local newspaper pretty regularly, you know."
"Well, I guess," I said. It's kind of hard to remember that I'm a local celebrity, subject to scrutiny, idolatry, unfounded criticism and ignorant praise, the same as TV stars and politicians.
"I remember when I first got to Olivine," Lyra chipped in. "Everyone thought of it as a bum tourist trap. A long time ago it used to be the place people go to for vacation, but then it became the place you'd go to in order to catch the boat or plane to your real vacation. Then you came along and pushed your Steel-type team, and that got the attention of the industry leaders. Your mayor spun it into a media campaign and the big businesses were wooed in. Now it's a high-tech industrial boom town."
"How the heck do you know this?"
"My high school courses. Johto Econ 102. I guess if I ever go to college, I want to major in Business."
Oh.
Typical school kids start their Pokémon journey at the start of summer break, and then return home come autumn. Those who are good enough to break into the circuit competitions and go pro don't go back home, they just stay on the road and keep battling. Still, education is mandatory, and they end up taking long-distance classes using the computer stations at the Pokémon Centers. Lyra was on a business track, judging by the fact she was taking a regional econ course. This surprised me.
"I never pegged you for a corporate tycoon," I told her. She beamed.
"What can I say, I want to be rich."
Ethan chuckled.
"As long as you're in sales, and not accounting," he teased her.
"Implying what? That I can't control my spending?"
He let the joke go and turned to me.
"Let's not forget, you are solely responsible for the Pokémon who is solely responsible for the safety of the shipping industry, which itself is the lifeblood of your city. Olivine has a lot to thank Amphy for; so that's thanks to you too."
A soft smile came to my face.
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
They're buttering me up. It's too nice, too much goodness. I may be blushing or otherwise showing signs of self-inflated bigheadedness, so I averted my attention back to Ethan's smartphone. There were all manner of filtering options to choose from, and so I began fiddling with them.
"Where am I ranked?" I wondered.
I typed in my name, Jasmine Mikan, in the search engine and got a "0 results found" message.
"Inexplicable," I uttered out loud. Am I so bad that I'm not even ranked? Not even the 1876th best trainer in Johto, in case Tsubasa Jade was the worst ranked trainer here? Morty looked over my shoulder and correctly guessed at what I was trying to do.
"Here, try this."
He set the search options to look for 'similar', rather than 'exact', results. My name immediately appeared on the screen.
#10954 Jasmine Hayate-Mikan
"That's even worse!" I cried. I'm not even in the top ten thousand in my own region?!
"Silly," Morty teased me. He tapped the top of the screen, where one of the filters had been reset. I got over my 'DOH!' moment quickly and fixed it. I feel better, actually, knowing I'm the 10954th best trainer in the whole wide world.
"98th," I said. "I rank 98th in Johto."
Okay, worse than I hoped, but better than I feared.
"Take it with a grain of salt," Ethan said encouragingly. "They're notoriously slow at updating recent results, and the rankings aren't that great of an indicator. The discussions are more useful."
"Eh. It's an ego thing," I admitted.
"I know the feeling. I see my name in the 300s and it hurts."
"What about me?" Morty asked.
"I'll try. Matsuba, Matsuba only, right?"
"Yeah. I don't know why they messed up your last name. Actually, that's one thing I never figured out about you. What exactly is Hayate? Your middle name?"
"My dad's surname," I answered.
"Oh? Not Mikan?"
"No. Hayate-Mikan is my full surname, my dad's and mother's last names put together. It's because-" and I fell deathly silent. Before Morty had the opportunity to inquire, I quickly entered his name in and brought the screen up for all to see.
"32nd in Johto."
"Nice!"
"Awesome!"
Curiosity overtaking us, we began madly fiddling with the settings while waiting for the crosswalk light to turn green.
"Who's number one in Johto?" I wondered.
I shouldn't have bothered. Of course, it was the young woman standing right next to me.
"I'm the best, the very best there ever was!" she began humming upon seeing her name atop the rankings.
"That must mean they're going by region of origin, and not by trainers that are currently visiting," Ethan said.
"Why's that?"
"Because Red would be #1 if he was included."
"Ah, pooey. I could beat him," Lyra insisted. This started a small squabble about who could beat who and a recap, with differing viewpoints and interpretations, of the summit battle royale that was held earlier this year. In the meantime, I browsed the rest of the Johto ranking list.
And promptly stopped, upon seeing the very next entry.
#1: Lyra Kotone
#2: Silver "Silver"
#3: Lance Cross
#4: Reena Tungstein
#5: Molly Hale
"Crap."
We had just entered the gym. Contrary to my fears and worries, Whitney had actually stuck to her word and fixed the chaos that was her arena floor. Well, 'fix' is a strong word. 'Fix' implies everything went back to normal, which was not nearly the case. Rather, what used to be a flat, tiled arena floor capable of morphing into mazes, and what had recently been an asteroid field of free-floating blocks, was now something in between. The floating blocks were now arranged into a neat, flat, circular platform, flanked by multiple, smaller platforms.
So, I suppose it would be feasible to battle atop that. It was only floating thirty feet in the air, no big deal if I or my Pokémon fell off, directly into the field of crackling anti-grav projectors. And really, I won't have to worry about getting myself, my Pokémon, or anything else dirty, as the blocks were solid metal and couldn't be used to burrow through, or crushed up into Rock Slide and Stone Edge projectiles.
"Getting nervous?" Lyra asked me out of the blue.
"Huh?"
"Are you getting nervous about the match? You're shaking," she elaborated.
"It's the air conditioner," I lied. What am I supposed to say? I just found out I'm about to battle a trainer considered to be the second best in the entire region, one who is more highly ranked and thence supposedly more powerful than Lance Cross, the legendary Dragon Master, the same Lance who had soundly defeated me at the Gym Leader summit (which, I might add, started this whole probation nonsense in the first place), and who, last night, my opponent himself had argued was the greatest trainer in the world? That's who I have to face?!
"I don't get it," I muttered to myself. "Why would he argue for Lance being the best in the world, if the whole world thinks he himself is even better? It makes no sense! Why'd I do such a dumb thing and challenge him to a gym match?!"
"Hey, it'll be alright." A big hand landed on my should. It was Morty, come to calm me down and reassure me. It worked. My nerves responded to his touch by relaxing, ever so slightly.
"I hope you're right."
Nothing in my voice was reassuring, an accurate reflection of my stressed out mind.
"He is second best in the region. Only behind Lyra," and I nodded in the prodigies' direction, "and only because she won the jackpot with that genetic freak of a Typhlosion."
I shuddered, instinctually remembering the inferno my gym had been turned into that day. It was still the worst, most one-sided defeat I had ever experienced.
"Number two, and it's for the marbles. #2 vs. #98. I'm better than that, right? I'm not so far behind him that it'll be impossible, right?"
"Relax. It's just a ranking. It doesn't mean anything," Morty tried to reassure me again.
"Of course. I know I'm better than that, I'm a Gym Leader dang it! I just wish I'd gotten some more respect."
"It'll come once they pick up on the fact that you're winning the majority of your gym battles."
"It'll skyrocket once I beat Silver," I asserted.
Argh!
I really hate the rankings system. So many people take these things too seriously, as if a single number could measure your entire worth as a Pokémon trainer. Pokémon training wasn't so simple as to be boiled down into simple components, let alone a singular integer! Success in the arena came from all sorts of metrics, like emotion, concentration, strategy and tactics, physical and mental strength, type matchups, training- a countless number of factors! So when one trainer who no one thinks anything of beats a highly-touted trainer, the public and media become all shocked and cry upset, and blame it on the higher-ranked trainer choking or having bad luck. It's stupid. Vito came into my gym with the #1 rank in Hoenn and I completely outsmarted him and beat him fair and clear. Rankings don't mean a thing once the pokeballs go flying!
I clutched the ends of my scarf with balled fists.
Argh!
You're getting nervous and scatter-brained, Jasmine. You can't even concentrate on one thing to freak out over, you let yourself obsess over multiple things at once, and that compounds your stress.
Calm down.
I breathed in, and then out, deep as I could. Morty rubbed my back again.
"You look beautiful. Go knock him out," he said, giving me a gentle push forward.
How am I feeling? Not much better, but functional.
Is Silver really better than Lance? Why does he consider him so much better than himself? Am I up to the task of even giving him a game, let alone beating him? Would we even have a fair match, or would Whitney's technical problems screw everything up?
Questions, questions, questions-
I guess I'll find all my answers once the battle starts.
Whitney appeared, bounding towards me with her usual vigor and unwelcome optimism.
"Like what I did with the place? Turns out, this anti-grav stuff is really fine-tuned! You can do anything with it!"
"It's good," I said.
"What's up with you? You're tight as a pitcher with bases loaded."
"Stop that! Yeah, I'm worried, but everyone fussing over me isn't helping!"
I don't think I'm actually scared, or lacking in confidence. I guess what's at stake is my pride, and the difficulty of the match (or impossibility, if the power difference was as large as indicated) was making me conceive of the prospect of losing, badly, and having to swallow my pride. Why is it that in the face of crisis and uncertainty, I get hung up on the worst possible outcome? I don't know. It may be I'm a natural-born pessimist.
"Do you guys even know why this whole battle is even happening?"
They shook their heads.
"I was wondering that. Silver never challenges Gym Leaders."
"It's because you wanted to settle an argument about who was stronger, Lance or Stone," Ethan said. He gave me and Lyra a rueful look, as if regretting admitting that he had been hanging out with the rooftop gang rather than Lyra.
"Not who is stronger. Who is right. I got angry when he started accusing my boss of being a heartless corporate hack."
"And I was angry that you'd insinuate that Lance is a dictator and narcissist."
We swiveled, to find Silver standing before us, arms crossed. He wore a light jacket and a heavy frown.
"A Pokemon battle won't settle our difference of opinion, but I still want to fight you," Silver said.
"Right," I nodded.
That was all that was said between us. We made our way to our respective sides of the arena. The mini-platforms were lowered in order to allow us to board, and once we did so, lifted off three stories into the air. I took a deep breath.
"Let's get this started! Commencing battle! Whitney versus… Jigglypuff!" Whitney yelled.
"Huh?"
I looked to Whitney, who was looking and pointing an outstretched arm and finger to the video display. My confusion increased. The board was supposed to show our picture and names, but instead, where I expected my face to be, I got a yellow smiley face instead. Beneath it was Whitney's name. On the challenger side there was a portrait of a Jigglypuff and the challenger's name was "Jigglypuff".
"Like I said, power surge screwed everything up. But don't worry! The profiles are the only big thing messed up, everything else is cool."
She cycled through the video board's options, showing us the six slots representing our Pokémon, and also pointed out the two Girafarig positioned on either side of the field, fulfilling the shielding requirements for the match.
"What are the rules?" Silver asked.
"Six on six, single-battle, no restrictions, usual clauses, play nicely. I'll be the judge! All set?" Whitney asked each of us.
I nodded, taking out my first Pokémon.
Silver did likewise.
"Alright! It's time for a battle!"