When we went back outside merely a few hours later the sun was already beating down relentlessly; it was turning into one of the hottest days of the summer so far. Mewtwo and I were under the cover of some trees in a forest nearby, but even then the temperature was still sweltering.
"Again."
Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I inhaled deeply and took aim with my hand for what felt like the hundredth time.
"Focus," Mewtwo said, also for the hundredth time as he alighted next to me, "that tree is your enemy, you have to neutralize it as quickly as possible."
"I don't even—"
"Less talking, more neutralizing."
"Hey, that's my line," I said indignantly turning to look at him, "and I don't know what naturalizing means!"
"To 'neutralize' means to destroy. Your assignment was to burn this tree, remember?"
"Well, I don't even really want to burn this tree," I said, gesturing toward the sapling behind me, "can't we just use a different target?"
"Why does the target matter? It is an inanimate, somewhat flammable object, therefore a good target for you to practice on," Mewtwo said coolly.
"It's still a living thing, and it doesn't need to burn!"
"I do not think you understand the point of this training," he sighed, passing a hand over his face.
"You're trying to test my powers, right?"
"That is correct," he affirmed.
"This tree didn't hurt me, so I won't hurt it," I said stubbornly.
"What about when you have Pokémon battles? Those Pokémon did not do anything wrong, yet you force your Pokémon to attack them?" Mewtwo challenged me.
"That's . . . that's not what that is at all, it's totally different," I said, avoiding eye contact.
"Why? Because you are not the one doing the damage? Stop making weak excuses."
I could tell by his tone that he was just trying to rile me up, but that realization didn't stop me from wanting to call it quits then and there.
"Can we take a break?" I asked, bringing down my arm and rubbing my shoulder, "I've been standing like this for hours, my arm's gonna fall off."
"It has only been twenty minutes," Mewtwo said under his breath.
"It's been long enough, I don't think anything's gonna happen," I sighed, sitting in front of a thicker tree nearby.
"You need to stop doubting yourself. I am not surprised that nothing has worked yet, you are hardly trying."
I looked up towards his face.
"No, nothing's worked because I'm awake," I corrected him, "I've only ever done this when I'm asleep."
"Then you can do it when you are conscious as well," Mewtwo said, levitating me into the air, "you have exhibited other abilities besides burning when you are awake, right? You just need to try harder."
"But I have Pokémon for that," I said, brushing the leaves off my shorts and extending my feet toward the ground, "I don't need to learn how to do this stuff right now."
"When do you intend to learn, then? When it becomes too late? Besides, I want someone to spar with now," Mewtwo insisted, folding his arms over his chest.
"Fine," I said, rolling my eyes, "we'll keep trying for a little longer."
I wasn't expecting his eyes to light up the way they did then.
"But do we have to use a target?" I asked.
"Yes, we are using a target," Mewtwo said as a summer breeze began to sweep through my hair.
I soon realized that the breeze was his doing as long grasses blew toward us and began to interlock together, eventually taking on a humanoid shape.
"You're making a grass man?"
"Not just any grass man," Mewtwo said, lifting his hand again.
Some shorter grasses floated over and took other shapes; a tie, a hat, a small "R" on the chest.
He was making Giovanni.
I stood there for a second, worried that he was going to say something about my lack of immediate reaction; he didn't keep me waiting long.
"Why are you not attacking? Did I not make it obvious enough that this is Giovanni?"
"I . . . yeah, I know it's him," I said sheepishly.
"This is the man who has, and will continue to, killed countless Pokémon, including your own," Mewtwo's voice was rising, "and you hesitate to attack?"
"Giovanni did not kill Meganimum," I said hotly, turning to look at him, "a stupid, greedy Rocket Admin did."
"Hang on," Mewtwo said, growing more bewildered, "are you saying you look up to him?!"
"No, that's not what I meant," I said, shaking my head, "I'm just . . . I battled with him. He was the eighth gym leader in Kanto."
"Is this supposed to answer my question?"
"I don't like him as a person, and I don't agree with how he views Pokémon as things to be used, but I respect him as a trainer," I finished, looking back toward the straw figure again, "I wouldn't try to hurt even him."
Mewtwo stood there for a moment without saying anything, then he said in a low voice, "You really do not know what you are saying."
"I do know what I'm saying," I insisted.
"Do you actually believe Giovanni does not have a hand in every single thing that goes on in Team Rocket? Perhaps he did not order that Admin to kill your Meganimum, but if he was asked first, I bet my life that he would not hesitate to say yes."
"I don't believe that's true," I looked toward him again and said confidently, though his tone was beginning to unnerve me.
He blinked once, then everything went dark again.
"Hey, what are you doing now?" I cried, looking around frantically.
Mewtwo didn't answer. Instead, I saw a light begin to glow from behind me. I turned and felt my heart stop in my chest.
It was a vision of my Meganimum, looking terrified as he fought off four Weaville while a faceless Rocket Admin watched from several feet away.
"Don't damage the flower!" he barked without a mouth.
For a moment I couldn't breathe, but at last I began screaming for him to stop.
"No!" I cried, starting toward him, "Call them back!"
The vision obviously did not hear me, and my panic worsened as I watched the Weavile continue to freeze and slash at my beloved Pokémon.
"I said stop!" I screamed again, finally reaching him and grabbing onto his jacket, shaking with all my might.
When that did not work either, I turned toward the Weaville and my Meganimum, who was on his knees and struggling weakly by this point. Without thinking, I began to run toward the Weaville and grabbed fistfuls of fur to throw them off myself. To my surprise, the Weaville noticed me and began attacking me instead.
I definitely was not expecting to feel pain either; I screamed as their sharp claws dragged across my skin, but I felt Meganimum's cool hide on my back and was comforted.
"Get off him!" I cried, pushing the one in my grasp away, "don't do this!"
I started toward another one, no longer feeling my slashed arms from all the adrenaline in my body, but a third Weaville saw me and lunged from Meganimum's back. When he sank his claws into my throat, I could not draw breath anymore. He pulled them out and I dropped to the ground, blacking out instantly.
When I woke up again, I was lying on the warm grass under the trees with Mewtwo standing over me. I could feel tears on my face and my pulse still racing from the vision he just forced me to experience. I looked at my arms and touched my throat with my hands; miraculously they were in one piece.
"I do not understand," he said quietly, "all you had to do was attack the Admin and it would have been over. I even made one without a face to make it easier. What was stopping you?"
I laid there for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. Even as I slowly got to my feet, I still did not say anything to him.
"You," I finally whispered shakily, "are horrible."
Mewtwo blinked in surprise. Before he could ask what I meant by that, I began screaming at him.
"How could you do that to me? Why would you make me see and feel something so terrible?!"
He stared at me incredulously for a second, then his face relaxed again.
"You finally understand," Mewtwo said, levitating slightly, "I am horrible."
I stared for a second, not expecting him to respond that way.
"You will only attack truly horrible things, right? Attack me, then," Mewtwo insisted, backing away several feet.
"No, you're not listening to me!" I said, wiping my face, "I'm not going to hurt you, either."
"Why not? I just forced you to watch the death of your beloved Pokémon, putting you through excruciating emotional and physical pain. Teach me a lesson."
"That won't solve—"
Before I could finish my sentence, Mewtwo pushed me back with his power. I lost my balance and landed on my backside.
"Just apologize for what you did," I said, on the verge of tears again.
"You are in danger, now fight back," he commanded, pretending he did not hear my request.
"No, I'm not fighting you," I said firmly, standing up straight again.
He continued to ignore me and drew his arm back, forming an Aura Sphere in his hand.
"I said I won't fight you!" I screamed, crossing my arms over my face protectively.
There was a moment of silence before I heard Mewtwo sigh in frustration.
"Why do you refuse to work with me?" I heard him ask irritably, "I am trying to help you."
"Help me? You're just trying to pick a fight with Arceus," I retorted.
There was a pause, then he said, "No, I mean, yes, I am doing this because I want to battle with Arceus—"
"Is that why you felt okay with forcing me to watch Meganimum die? You must really hate me for being so useless," I choked out.
He stood there for a moment as if he were frozen, then his eyes returned to normal. I still didn't let down my guard.
"I apologize for doing that," he said, alighting on the ground, "and I do not hate you, for any reason."
I stood up straighter and let my arms down, feeling more exhausted than I had in weeks. He avoided my gaze, but I could see in his eyes that he did feel bad.
"Why was it so important that I used my powers?" I asked again, my breathing finally returning to normal.
"I . . . overheard your conversation with Ash."
Of course you did.
"Which one? We talk pretty often."
"The very first one, on the night you found me," he admitted.
My jaw dropped.
"You heard us all the way from here? I thought you were too weak to do stuff like that back then!"
"Listening does not require much energy, and you did see me get a glass of water from Hoenn that same evening," he said.
"I thought you were just joking about that!"
"Why would I joke about water?"
"Have you really overheard every conversation we had since you got here?"
"No, just that one . . . and also the most recent one. But only those two, I swear," he said sincerely.
"What does our conversation have to do with any of this?"
"I heard how upset you were about being unable to protect those you care about. Not yourself, not your Pokémon, and . . . not your parents."
My breath caught in my throat.
"And so," he continued, "I recently decided that I need to be the one to help you find the power do that."
"But why? My Pokémon and I are fine the way things are—"
"I know that it is always on your mind," he admitted, breaking eye contact, "and . . . I also know what it is like to be powerless. To lose the ones you . . . care about."
"Wait . . . you do?" I asked, surprised by this new development.
"Yes. I suppose being separated from my fellow clones allows me to relate to your . . . concerns," he said finally.
I almost choked on my inhale.
"Your clones? You mean there are more of you?!"
"I really hope not," he muttered under his breath before adding, "I was referring to the ones of the other Pokémon that I . . . borrowed from the trainers that came to fight me," he clarified.
"That's right, Ash told me about them," I said, remembering, "but those clones . . . they're alive, right? Why would you be so—"
"It is the best explanation I can offer," he cut me off, "I do not know exactly why, but, when I heard you talk about not being able to protect the ones you care about I just . . . something strange happened. I . . . felt something, I suppose."
I gave him a look of confusion. "Felt something . . . ?"
"Forget it, that was all I wanted to say," he said, waving his hand at me before changing the subject, "so are you quitting this training or not?"
I thought for a moment.
"There has to be a better way to train without doing this kind of stuff, right?" I asked.
"There may be, but . . . this was the only idea I had," Mewtwo admitted.
Then I looked up at Mewtwo again and clapped my hands together.
"Did you think of something better?" he asked.
"Maybe . . . I could do martial arts instead!"
"Martial arts?"
"Yeah, you know, like . . . hiyah!"
With no proper technique whatsoever, I kicked the air with my foot to demonstrate what I meant.
He scoffed, "You are joking, right? Everybody knows that Special Attacks are superior to Physical ones."
"I think you're just saying that because you only use Special attacks. Besides, having some way to defend myself is better than nothing, right?" I asked, punching and invisible target.
"But it would be useless; as it stands now you have the Physical Attack ability of that Ratatta over there," he said, indicating the tall grass nearby.
My jaw dropped in mock indignance.
"Hey! I could probably get strong enough to take you down if you didn't have your psychic powers."
"Yes but . . . I have them," he smirked.
"But what if you didn't? Then would you be easy to defeat? You have noodle arms, and six fingers."
He pondered that question for a moment, then said, "I have not thought of that before. But notion of losing my powers is ludicrous."
"But what if you did?"
"Well, it may be comparable to losing my vision or hearing. Or perhaps even both. Although even without my vision or hearing I can still see and hear with my abilities. Either way, I cannot imagine a scenario where that would be possible, so it is not relevant."
"But what if—"
"In any case, we will definitely continue with your training when I can come up with better methods. But that will be all for today," he interrupted.
He teleported to a location where he could not hear my protests. I folded my arms over my chest and started inside to make breakfast.