-4-

A Taste of Freedom

Enjoy!

"A lot of trainers, especially in the last ten-fifteen years, had been snapped up by Universal Battling Association teams (UBA teams). As in, multiple tournaments around the world every year, and these UBA-endorsed teams would sign competing battlers and pay for their travel and lodging fees in exchange for representation and merchandise profits and all that fun stuff.

Officially introduced and recognized as an organization around twenty-three years ago, it was only when a competitor by the name of Catherine Rivera, an at-the-time nineteen year old, had won the World Championship while signed with a UBA team. Reports came out that the team had paid for her boarding and any additional fees she had incurred, enabling her to focus her entirety on competing and training.

And, just like that, the organization exploded overnight.

Dozens and dozens of teams started popping up all over the different regions, attempting to cash in on this exposure, causing a massive and volatile power dynamic shift, until finally the International Pokémon League (IPL) stepped in and forced the Universal Battling Association to instate guidelines and rules, with three fundamental rules being enforced over anything else.

Each team had to individually register with the UBA and pay multiple fees for consideration and acceptance, finally tempering the onslaught of newly-formed teams immediately folding due to lack of initial funds.

They also had to be from organizations or, at least, owned by a group of private, wealthy individuals, ensuring that no abuse of power would occur.

And, finally, battlers signed to contracts with these teams would be guaranteed and ensured a percentage of their agreed upon salary, with no exceptions bar law enforcement and the court systems ruling that the battler in question is undeserving or voided the contract in any way due to their own illegal actions.

And thus, the modern-day tournament systems were born.

The regions themselves only have one tournament a year that is hosted and ran by the International Pokémon League, which would be each region's independent league conference tournament, such as the Indigo Plateau Conference in Kanto, or the Silver Conference in Johto.

By and large, these were the most important tournaments that factor into the IPL offering trainers jobs, but they would also factor in UBA tournaments as well. If you performed well in one, or multiple, league conference tournaments, then you better bet your behind the IPL will be sending you at least a notice of interest for a potential career for you.

However, in the eyes of the public, the Universal Battlers Association tournaments were where the big bucks were.

As it was with the rise of modern sports in the regions, such as basketball or baseball, the UBA tournaments attracted big crowds whenever they were in town. Normally the tournaments would be hosted for roughly a week, and it was the ultimate family event. There would be battles, a bunch of exotic and fascinating Pokémon to observe and watch, different audience events, and normally the entry cost was relatively low, so actual attendance numbers weren't an issue either.

Eventually, a hierarchy of the tournaments were formed, with the biggest, most prolific tournaments, viewed as the most prestigious and competitive in the eyes of the public (and the UBA teams) came into circulation. The very top tournaments, the most prestigious and competitive, were dubbed "Master" tournaments, or, unofficially and in slang terms, "S-Tier".

Normally, in a single year of trainer circulation, less than fifteen Master tournaments occurred, making them the rarest and most coveted championships. On a battling resume, these tournaments would stand out the MOST, and if you could claim any Master tournament victory, you were rolling with the big dogs.

The rest of the tournament hierarchy went as follows: Premier, Central, and Fundamental tournaments. In the eyes of the public, they were called "A-Tier", "B-Tier", and "C-Tier".

The Premier tournaments were highly-respected and seen as the second most important tournament type to win, while the Central and Fundamental tournaments were seen as respectable and impressive, but not world shattering.

However, absolutely none of them held a candle, in regards to respect, legacy, prestige, or importance, than the World Championship.

If the Master Tournaments were S-Tier, then the World Championship was a complete letter of its own. Just in a completely different universe.

These 'World Tournaments' existed long before the United Battling Association was even a thought, with the tournament itself entering its fifty-eight year of existence, at the time of this book's publishing. Meaning that, for the last fifty-seven years, people from all over the world would gather around their TVs (or even better, fly out to see it in person) and watch as the very best trainers each region had to offer duked it out for their entertainment.

The World Championships happened once a year, but literally every trainer that wasn't working for the League in some capacity would show up and vy for the title of World Championship victor. The entrees would easily stretch into the hundreds, most likely the low thousands, which led to the tournament normally taking a whole month to get through to the end.

And if you were one of the luckiest, most determined people in the entire world and happened to win one of these? You could basically sign with any team you wanted, and be respected for the rest of your career.

It was the most sought after award in the world, not even behind a League Conference championship." - Anthony Long, International Pokémon League analytical reporter, in "Understanding the History of Competitive Battling in Modern Society".

And Malcolm Payne, even if he bled and cried and stretched his muscles until they could go no further, breaking his mental limits, losing his entire mind in the process, even if he never won a battle again, knew one thing and one thing only.

"Malcolm Payne" would be engraved in a World Championship trophy some day.

After surveying their options, which weren't that many, they found a decent mom-and-pop seafood joint to dine in, the gentle waves of moonlight slowly beginning to wind the city down into a slumber.

The restaurant was dimly lit at the moment, the walls a soft crème color with a shade of gentle teal accentuating the floorboards and the edges where the wall met the roof. Paintings of Pokémon and different landscapes throughout the world hung around, normally next to a window that allowed the streetlights to look in if they wanted.

The roof was a triangle, slanted upwards and in, creating a hollow ceiling area, with horizontal support beams looming over the seated guests.

It took them about twelve minutes to be seated, which wasn't bad at all, and the aroma coming from the combined efforts of the line cooks had convinced the teens that the wait was definitely worth it.

"What do you want to catch next? You already have two." Malcolm asked as the waiter brought them their menus and some glasses of water. Vincent took a sip and cracked his neck, a small hiss escaping his lips.

"If I'm being quite honest with you, man," he said after a moment, flipping through the menu briefly. "I think I'm going to try and defeat this gym with only two Pokémon."

He didn't immediately reply, as Malcolm was busy looking at the menu ("Kickin' Krabby? With a side of mashed potatoes and Hoenn-style fries? Sounds amazing!") but sure enough, the statement Vincent gave him was processed in his mind.

"You are planning on taking only a Grass and a Fighting type into a Flying-specialized gym?"

And sure enough, Vincent paused to think.

Malcolm stared at the boy across from him with a heavy stare.

"Yeah, you know what, on second thought, I'm not sure what Pokémon I want to catch next. Do you know what's around the area?"

He began to rack his brain for the answer. Sure, a dual Ground-Flying, paired with a pure Fighting type weren't the best options to have, but it was hell of a lot better than what Vincent was working with.

He didn't have his map on him, but off memory, he knew they approached the city from Route 3…6? He thinks? From the western entrance, in any capacity, so that was a start. He knew that he'd really be relying on his third Pokémon, and sending in Gligar, if anything, to clean up the last Pokémon.

"The Eastern and Southern entrances would be your best bet in order to get a third member, if I had to guess. You could most likely find a Fire or an Electric-type if you really look, but your best bet is the Fire-type."

Vincent nodded in thought, his brain working overtime, and his eyes flickered to the waiter walking up. It was a start, but nothing concrete.

"Yeah, I'll have the Slowpoke tail stew with a Viridian-style salad, and a cookie malt shake."

Nodding to himself and scribbling the order down, the waiter turned to Malcolm.

"Yeah, just the Kickin' Krabby order, and can I get some melted butter on the mashed potatoes, please?"

And that was that.

"And what about you, mister? You have a Fighting type as well, not like you are going to do major damage to Falkner when you fight him."

A very valid point, but Malcolm had a plan. It wasn't the most glamorous of plans, but damn, he at least had something.

It wasn't very likely to work, but he'd try his best no matter what, that much was for sure. The ghost type he would be hunting was actually well-known for being easier to train for newcomers to the League, not as hard as some of the more abrasive Ghost types, but Malcolm would still need to be careful once he manages to capture it.

And who doesn't love a goofy Ghost type?

"Gastly."

Vincent's eyes flashed up from his beverage and stared, almost hauntingly so, into Malcolm's visage.

"Now, I know you mentioned it before, but really? A Ghost-type is going to be your third party member?"

There was something about his tone that wasn't judgmental, but it was still off to him. It didn't sound exactly friendly either, that much he could say.

The waiter dropped their food off and left.

His immediate thought was "Damn that was a fast turn-around from ordering to having the food in front of us."

His second thought was-

"What's wrong with having a Ghost-type?"

Vincent took a spoonful of soup into his mouth and shook his head. After a moment, he swallowed.

"First of all, where would you even get one?"

He was prepared for the question though, having researched the city. Malcolm fished through his pockets and brought out the map the guards had given them. "Sprout Tower, open from six AM until midnight every day except Saturdays and Sundays. They apparently, besides holding Bellsprouts like the name implies, house a few ghosts, including multiple reports of Gastly there."

"Hold on, hold on, just when the Hell did you have time to research this? We were literally in our room for like, a few hours at most! I didn't see you reading once!"

"I read while you showered."

Vincent let out a rather ungraceful guffaw at that, but didn't bother to refute or argue that. Instead, he moved topics.

"And you expect to just catch one? You have a Fighting-type."

"Yes, I am aware of that fact, but I still think I can do it. I have Gligar."

Vincent frowned. "Who has, to my knowledge, only been in one actual wild Pokémon fight, against something it could actually grab onto."

"Ghosts can still be hit, they aren't intangible."

"Yeah, well, I still don't think it's a good idea. Why not start with something more calm, more peaceful? Like a Mareep. Those are nice."

At this, Malcolm frowned in return, his eyebrows scrunching in apparent thought while debating what he heard. "What's so wrong with having a Gastly?"

"It's not the Ghost-type itself, it's the principle of having a Ghost-type be the third ever Pokémon you handle in a meaningful capacity. They are notoriously finicky to be around and train, even for seasoned vets."

Malcolm, in return, took a bite of his mashed potatoes and savored the taste, a slightly salty, spicy concoction of flavor swirling on his tongue.

"I can handle it, I'm confident in my abilities. The only worry I have is if Mankey will enjoy fighting something he can't hit exactly whenever he practices. I think I'll be fine, honestly."

But his partner wasn't entirely convinced.

"My grandfather handled a Dusknoir in his days, and I met the thing a few times on his ranch, that's an absolutely terrifying S-O-B to be around when she was pissed, and I can only imagine any other Ghost-type. I can't stop you from trying to handle a Gengar, but you should consider some alternative Pokémon."

It was all the same to Malcolm.

"I think I'll be fine."

"If you say so."

The silence was awkward.

Finally, neither of the teens could bear it. This was supposed to be a pleasant dinner, not a tense one. So, they broke it the only way they knew how.

"Man, let's just eat our food and talk about Pokémon tomorrow."

"Now that, I can agree to!"

Their conversation changed, mellowed out in a sense, the two of them going back and forth. The food was delicious, more-so than they honestly expected, even with the intense aroma that met them when they entered.

They'd need to hit up this food spot again if they ever found themselves in the city after this. They took the time to really savor the moment.

The night was dimming down.

"You hear Ryan and Jessica O'Reilly are expected to retire this year?"

Malcolm took a huge bite of his delicious mashed potatoes and swallowed it whole. "No shit, huh? I mean they had a fantastic career, regardless of their recent years."

The other boy slightly frowned at this, dabbing his mouth with a napkin to clean the residual food off.

He took a sip of water, and cleared his throat after. "They won a World Championship in duos six years ago, that's more than what most competitors or battling franchises can boast, I wouldn't say their recent years have been rough."

"Ah, technicalities and such, they are washed up. You can argue all you want about their early results, at the moment they are struggling to even make it to top 8."

Vincent's face creased in exasperation and shook his head very slightly.

"Their down year was two years ago, last year at The War Games they made it to top 4 before losing to the Diaz sisters, but then they beat the sisters at - and won entirely - Slugfest Prime 9, an S-tier by itself. I think they have a good chance at taking the World Championship this year in Duos."

Malcolm could only raise his eyebrow in thought. "I'd be surprised if they win the World Championship, if I'm being honest. Top 8? Sure. But not going all the way. The Diaz sisters are most likely going to be ranked number 1 in the world for the third year in a row, if I had to guess."

Malcolm chuckled and rapped his fingers on the table. "Are you a fan of these sisters?"

"I mean," the teen grinned very slightly, turning away to hide his face. "one of them is a cutie."

"Aw, so you are biased then, okay loser I'ma ignore everything you said, and just for that you are paying tonight."

"Hey!"

The lodging they were staying at was bigger than they initially thought. There was a training area on the ground floor for anyone staying to use, and there was even a community pool for any Water-types under the guideline height to swim in freely, with no actual people to interrupt.

While neither of them had a Water-type to let free, Malcolm scanned through the training equipment they had on hand and started taking mental notes of what training regimes and exercises he could use with his Pokémon to make them stronger, or even prepare them for combat, League-sanctioned or not.

A few punching dummies, some timers for gauging speed and endurance, and some targets you throw in the air for precision testing for moving targets. All-in-all, not a terrible selection.

Beats using trees.

Tallying up inventory, Malcolm put the tools away and began to get ready for the day. He'd have a training session with his team in the afternoon, but at the moment, it wasn't even eleven in the morning and he wanted to experience what the city had to offer.

"Let's hit up Empire Silks yo, I need some new pants."

Browsing through the shirts, Malcolm passed through a variety of graphic tees, nothing really catching his eye. Vincent had picked out a pair of jeans and was looking for another pair to qualify for the "Buy One, Get One Half" deal they had at the moment.

He moved on from the shirts and browsed their jackets.

Malcolm had always been more of a pullover hoodie than a zip-up kinda kid, and that still rang true for his teenage years.

He picked out a medium teal hoodie for $45 and got another hoodie, this one baby pink, and bought it for half-off. In total, it was roughly the price of a brand new video game, so it was a good value, all things considered.

Black jeans, teal hoodie, a beanie of his favorite basketball team. Yeah, he was looking ready to be a professional trainer.

It was crazy to him at the moment. His whole life all he had experienced was the occasional family vacation to another town or city, and he had no freedom due to his parents planning the entire trip out, but here he was basically on his own. Of course he couldn't do anything crazy, like drink or go to dance clubs, but by all accounts he could explore the city how he wanted.

He didn't have his little sisters to worry or harp on.

That was always good.

They went back to their rooms and put their stuff away. Their next stop would be the Pokémon gym.

"Just watching? And why do you need a notepad?" Vincent asked, slight confusion seeping into his voice.

Malcolm scratched his Mankey's head and idly watched as Machop and Gligar wrestled some more. Oddish continued to sunbathe.

"I'm not challenging a flying-gym with only one usable Pokémon," he said after a moment. "I need to at least catch something useful. I also want to study his attack patterns and tactics, to plan ahead of time. On the pamphlet it says the gym's operating hours are eight in the morning to six in the evening, we have plenty of time to maybe watch a few matches."

Taking his words into consideration, Vincent 'hmm'd in reply and tapped his fingers across the desk he was at.

"That's unrealistic for battling, though, in regards to watching a battle. Sure, it works in a gym setting, but if you apply that same line of logic in a blind tournament then you'll be quickly overrun or outplayed."

"Maybe," Malcolm conceded, albeit undeterred. "but I can learn how to read opponents on the fly over time. For now, though? I'll stick to planning ahead."

They put their Pokémon back in their balls and left their lodging, walking towards the flying gym.

It was something of a monument at first glance, but upon further inspection, the building had rather odd architecture. The back, which they assumed is where the actual gym matches took place, the front was strangely low, a little less than two stories if they had to guess?

The building was a dull brown, a few windows in the front, and had a giant mural of a Noctowl on the side, looming menacingly across the foliage surrounding the gym.

Opening the door to what appeared to be a reception area of some kind, Malcolm eyed across the room curiously, attempting to soak in any information available. He could idly make out the noises of various Pokémon and training going on inside the gym.

From the reception desk was against the wall to the door's left, centered so that you could turn and walk right up and sign in for a battle. To the right wasn't a door of any kind but an arc of open space that let them view in and see a training mat and a group of… little kids? And a bunch of young Pokémon?

"Hi, welcome to the Violet City Gym, home of Leader Falkner and his flock, how can we help you today?" The receptionist said with a shimmer in her voice, gently smiling at the duo.

Malcolm was a little stunned. He was expecting birds flying high in the air but not exactly, uh, little kids and their babies following them around. However, Vincent did notice that there were two adults - or at least, teenagers at the youngest - gently guiding the kids and their Pokémon and making sure all of them were safe.

Not quite sure how to start the conversation, Malcolm merely smiled back in slight confusion.

"Hey, sorry, just a little overwhelmed. Uh, my friend and I are kinda new to training, we are just wondering if we could, like, watch some of the gym battles, maybe?

Typing on her computer, she scanned over the forms for a moment.

"So, Falkner's next battle is in roughly 15 minutes, if you want you can come back in that time and we'll guide you to the arena, or you can browse the gym until the match is announced."

"I have a question," Vincent cut in. "so, those kids in there, right? Are they, like, in a class?"

The receptionist wrinkled her nose very slightly, tilting her head to the side. "All gyms offer training classes to anyone and everyone of all ages. Right now we just have more kids but later on in the day, we normally have elderly students. It was instated roughly two years ago by Champion Clair."

"What exactly does it achieve?" Malcolm asked after a moment, hoping not to sound rude.

"Well," she said after a moment. "ideally, it allows different generations to understand Pokémon better. It was only recently that Johto broke off from Kanto and we established our own league, so Champion Clair is hoping to connect more with her citizens and allow them the chance to learn more about Pokémon as a whole."

"And does it work?"

She nodded, typing a bit into her keyboard.

"If you want to read more about it, we have a few listings at our local library. I'm terribly sorry to cut the conversation off but my job requires my attention. I appreciate the questions regarding our gym. Have a great day!"

The two boys nodded dumbly and wandered off, watching as some of the kids played around, sparks of joy and excitement dancing on their faces as they chased their friends and ran around, their Pokémon following close behind them.

It made the two boys happy, seeing those little kids, innocent and still protected from the stress of growing up, just having a fun time and living in the moment. Reminded them of their own childhoods, in their own unique and individual ways.

"We basically just got told to screw off in a business tone." Vincent said as they grabbed a seat in the stands, the stadium being prepared for a new gym battle. The construction workers were putting up new platforms and cleaning any debris from the floor, installing and constructing new tiles into the ground.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she had a job to do."

The construction workers, surprisingly, were putting up big rock pillars at various points in the arena. Rough in texture, with various protrusions and jagged cuts lining the surface, the pillars almost appeared as if they were built to climb.

There appeared to be six pillars, three on the challenging side, two on the leader's side of the court, and one huge rock pillar in the dead center.

They roughly reached halfway to the ceiling, if he had to guess based on a quick glance. It was apparent that they were built to allow flying Pokémon, or really any Pokémon with claws, to climb and use as cover, or for aerial attacks.

Malcolm supposed it was to teach new trainers how to prepare for aerial combat, and dealing with any flying threats, looking at a combat situation where your entire body is in danger from a setting where you normally aren't looking.

With three pillars on the challenging side, it seems at first as an inherent defensive advantage, but thinking about it a little more, it covers visible ground and allows for Falkner to guide his Pokémon more freely.

Of course, if Malcolm had to guess, Falkner knew damn well how to guide his Pokémon in and out of battle, and if he really wanted to, he could wipe the floor with most challengers, but that's besides the point.

The point of a gym leader is to assess and judge if trainers are progressing at a suitable rate or not. It mattered less if they actually won or not, more-so the actual process of how they won or lost.

It prepared trainers for professions and careers outside of training. Some trainers chose to continue traveling the world, exploring, catching new friends and battling new rivals, while others were snapped up by the International Pokémon League for more 'in-house' jobs, such as the coveted Ace Trainer position, or even as a Pokémon Ranger, which was a highly respected and honored career path.

But, like Malcolm was reading earlier, the IPL faced heavy competition from the UBA.

If he was faced with the choice, he'd most likely sign with the International Pokémon League, but maybe if he figured out he actually enjoyed battling a lot, he'd sign with the Universal Battling Association.

He was nudged out of his daydreaming by Vincent, and when his vision came back into focus, he saw why. Falker had walked onto the floor, and if Malcolm was being honest, he looked a little… younger... than he had thought? He knew gym leaders could be more on the youthful side, but he wasn't expecting it, and if you pressed him about it, Malcolm wouldn't be able to give you a straight answer.

Falkner had long, greenish-blue hair, with a large bang covering his right eye, and he wore a blue jacket over blue shorts, and a blue t-shirt.

"Hey, I think this guy likes blue." Vincent whispered to him. Malcolm chuckled.

"Really? I was thinking he was a fan of orange, myself." The teen replied in jest, and Vincent let out a hearty laugh, but the gym leader didn't pay it no mind.

"Yeah man, it's a common mistake, don't sweat it."

They turned back, and across from the gym leader was a boy. He looked around twelve, and was definitely younger than the two spectators. He had bright, frizzy deep orange hair, as if he dyed his hair after the color of carrots. The boy held three Pokéballs on his waist strap, and a callous grin was on his face.

The two stared at each other for a moment. Silently, a ruling official took her place on the side, and the two boys didn't even notice it at first, but there was a referee stand that was moderately tall, maybe eight or nine feet in the air. The back and sides were secure, so there was no threat of the referee falling out of her seat.

"Johnny Kimball… This would be your first gym badge, correct?"

"Yes, sir." The boy replied. Malcolm blinked in surprise at the respect shown. Based off his smirk, he was expecting a more cocky answer.

"And do you have, in your possession, the minimum required amount of healthy Pokémon - two?"

"Yes, sir."

Falkner nodded, more to himself than his opponent, and traced his beltline. "The visitor has the right to decide whether this is a two-Pokémon fight, or if the visitor wants to include a third Pokémon. What is your decision?"

"Two, sir."

"Very well. I shall make first decision, and the visitor will be allowed to send out their first Pokémon."

The man unclipped a Pokéball from his belt, and twirling it back and forth in his palm, he casually unleashed it. "Hoothoot, fly our gym to victory!"

A small, brown owl-like Pokémon popped out, hooting into the air and stretching slightly. It chirped loudly, attempting to gather its senses, and finally seemed to calm itself. The visage on its face was rather intense, and it stared in concentration and alarm at its opponent, the boy, who was quiet to start.

Slowly, the boy hovered over a Pokéball, before flashing his grip onto a different ball. He went back and forth, repeating the process, and Malcolm could see the gears in his brain whirling around, trying to figure out the best approach to this.

Finally, his hand rested.

"Totodile, let's get this party started!"

"Do trainers normally have a catchphrase? I guess I gotta think of one now." Malcolm thought to himself, watching as the two Pokémon stared at each other. Neither made a move, waiting for the apparent signal.

Finally, the referee raised her hand into the air.

"This gym battle between challenger Johnny Kimball and gym leader Falkner will now commence. Each side has two Pokémon, and the win condition is defeating the other side's two Pokémon. Challengers, ready."

The two adjusted their positions slightly, and Malcolm subconsciously leaned forward in his seat, excited to see a live-action Pokémon battle.

The woman finally swiped her hand down vertically. "Begin!"

"Hoothoot, fly up!" Falkner's voice bellowed out into the gym, his voice harsh but not cruel. His immediate intensity of the fight was not something that Malcolm expected. The Hoothoot, as it was named, started flapping its wings, and the Totodile immediately spit out a burst of water that was aimed at the bird, but said bird managed to swiftly shift out of the way.

"Totodile, run behind one of the walls and wait for my command."

The little guy obeyed, and waddle-ran behind one of the towering artificial rock walls, staring upwards, waiting patiently.

The Hoothoot had landed on the nearest rock formation, and flapped its wings once, before gliding effortlessly to the rock wall horizontal from it. Falkner was still silent, not allowing the challenger to immediately know his next move.

Johnny - the challenger - narrowed his eyes at the bird but said nothing.

"Hoothoot, Air Force!"

Air Force? Was that a Flying-type move? Malcolm sure hadn't heard of it, that much was certain.

The owl flew over to the same rock wall that Totodile was hiding behind, and peaked its head over, before a sudden burst of water caused it to immediately hop back, the water missing its mark.

The bird did it again but immediately sent a gust of air at the Totodile, and it clashed with the water, and Malcolm watched as the bird immediately jumped off the side and began to glide around the wall, and descend into a-

"Hoothoot, Wing Attack!"

The bird pushed forward and extended a wing, and the Totodile, barely turning its attention to the side, was smacked straight on by a powerful Wing Attack, causing it to go stumbling back, groaning as the attack had hit its chest area.

"Follow up with a Tackle!"

The bird charged forward, but Totodile had sat up.

"Totodile, Bite when it gets close!"

"Hoothoot, stop and use Air Slash!"

"Water Gun!"

Malcolm was amazed at what he was watching.

The two were going back and forth, and a sudden, creeping thought broke into his mind.

Can I even keep up with this, if that was me?

A lapse of insecurity. He had always dreamed of being the challenger, rocking the gym and capturing the attention (and hearts) of the audience, before being congratulated by the gym leader.

But this? This was way faster than he was expecting. He knew it would be a learning process, but this would be barely his first badge, and it was already exceeding just how fast he thought it'd be.

Malcolm tried his best to push that line of thought out of his mind. He could learn, he could adapt, and he could push himself to the limits.

He had phased out for a bit. When his vision focused back on the fight, Malcolm blinked in surprise.

Totodile was down for the count, the eyes on the croc swirling, and Hoothoot sat in front of it, huffing at an apparent hard fought victory.

And just like that, he was feeling insecure again. If all it took was a simple, small second lapse to miss a critical, vital part of the fight, then what hope would he have?

"Johnny, please recall your first Pokémon, and release your second."

The boy grimaced at the unconscious blue gator, and a flash of red light encompassed the creature before it disappeared. Hoothoot hopped over to its side, in front of Falkner. His hand rested on the Pokéball, but he made no indication he was going to release it. This lasted roughly ten seconds, before he sighed and unclipped his next attacker.

"Hoothoot, you are up against one of your own. Have at it!"

Malcolm and Vincent were resting on their beds. They had a small training session together with their Pokémon, and despite the both of them proclaiming they'd go looking for a new party member, they both laid in bed, just relaxing, chatting softly, shooting the shit, so to speak.

Gligar was curled up nicely, enjoying a snooze, while Mankey and Machop tumbled around the room, their hearts not in it, but also just trying to entertain themselves. Oddish was settled gently into a potted plant, soaking in nutrients.

Suddenly, Vincent shifted up and glanced at Malcolm, who saw it from the corner of his eyes.

"Not so glamorous, is it?"

At this, Malcolm raised one of his eyebrows. Vincent coughed into his hand and motioned his hands in front of him.

"The gym battle, I mean. You saw it, how the boy, Johnny, left the gym all sad and disinterested despite hearing how Falkner had complimented his technique and style of battling. I saw it a lot, y'know."

Upon hearing this, Malcolm's eyebrows knitted together slightly, scrunching up in thought. Mankey chopped Machop's neck lightly, while Machop tried to wrestle his rival to the ground.

"You have a family member that was a gym leader or sumn?"

Vincent shook his head negatively. "Not really, it was - Choppy don't pull the monkey's tail - it was my mother who would take me to local gym battles, explaining to me the ins and outs, and I saw it multiple times a day, whenever we'd go. She had won the Unova league conference in her prime - the Vertress Conference - and she wanted to instill the love of battling into me - Machop I said stop!"

Vincent had lost Malcolm halfway through his explanation.

"Wait, wait, wait… your mom won a League Conference championship, and you didn't tell me this?!"

It wasn't something that people normally kept hidden, if he was being honest. Normally, people would gloat and spread how their parents were world-renown battlers, and how they wanted to live up to the legacy or whatever.

However, Vincent frowned at this and crossed his arms, apparently annoyed, and Malcolm could read it on his face too.

He waited a moment, calming himself down, before continuing.

"That's all I ever was growing up. The 'son of Amelia Kane' or 'the grandson of Russel Kane and Sofia Alexanders.' I, pardon my language, fucking hated it. I was tired of being compared, but my family never really understood it. They always talked about if I'd be able to surpass my mother, or even my two brothers."

Malcolm's eyes widened considerably. Russel Kane and Sofia Alexanders, respectively, each had two World Champion titles under their belts, so, if he was keeping track, Vincent's family had, at minimum, two multiple-time World Champions and a League Conference champion.

In fact, Sofia Alexanders was the first woman to repeat as World Champion, as the first two battlers to win back to back championships had been men. It was a rather historic victory, and if he was remembering it right, it was roughly forty years ago that it had happened.

So, it made sense that Vincent was a little testy about his family.

"I'm sorry, I had no clue."

Vincent waved him off after a moment. The two sat in silence, neither really wanting to break the silence, enjoying the solitude that the other gave.

It was a small solitude, one that wouldn't last nearly as long as either wanted, but to them, nothing was better. As long as they knew they had each other. Malcolm couldn't help but smile, a soft grin on his face as he laid back on his bed, idly listening to Mankey and Machop grapple and casually throw each other, and he couldn't help but wonder if the neighboring trainers could hear them go back and forth.

In all truthfulness, it was serene to him. For the first time, in a long time, Malcolm felt at peace. He loved everything his parents gave him, and the opportunities they gave him, but this? The traveling, the Pokémon, the eventual friendships he'd make, and of course the heartbreaks coming his way?

That's what really hit close to his heart.

However, the night was still young, relatively speaking. While he didn't look for a Pokémon that day, he still had the night to look for something. And, he had said that he wanted to raise a Gengar...

"What time is it?"

Vincent glanced at the clock on the wall. "8:12. Why?"

Grinning to himself, Malcolm sat up in bed and rolled over to the side, reaching for his socks. He put them on, and reached for his shoes. The comotion had stirred Gligar out of his slumber. The pink bat yawned.

Machop and Mankey temporarily glanced at the boy, curious. Malcolm flopped off the bed and started lacing his shoes, and after he tied the knot, he glanced upwards, towards Vincent, who was still staring at him curiously.

"I'm gonna catch me a Gastly."

At hearing this, Vincent chortled to himself, shaking his head, before laying down and rolling over. Oddish sighed in its sleep, enjoying the nutrient bath, and almost… purred, as Vincent idly ran a finger over the forehead of it.

Gligar's tail swished in place, apparently remembering the struggle of fighting Mankey, while said Pokémon hooted and howled at hearing this. Malcolm frowned slightly, knowing that Mankey would basically be able to do nothing against a Ghost-type.

He'd still bring him along, but wouldn't expect much. Mainly just to placate the quick-to-anger pig-monkey creature.

"Alright, well, be back before 11:30, because I'm sleeping at 11:45 and I'm gonna be pissed if you wake my ass up."

Malcolm nodded at this, before glancing at Gligar and Mankey, who now had both moved to near his bed. "You two, we are going to try and find a Gastly. It looks like a purple ball of gas, and it's a ghost. Be cautious."

He recalled the both of them and slipped out the door, barely avoiding Vincent throwing one of his shoes at him, the piece of attire bouncing harmlessly off the door. Malcolm laughed out loud and began to walk down the hallway, ready to try his hand at catching a Gastly.

Watching the automatic door open for him, he stepped out into the night air, admiring the fireflies that lit up some of the treeline surrounding them, and glanced down the cobblestone road that led the rest of the city to the lodging.

Occasionally, spread out sparsely on the side of the road, there were streetlights that lit up the path dimly, and every now and then, a wild Pokémon would howl.

The air was fresh, and the butterflies that thrashed around in his stomach were beginning to settle, resting for the night as he took a deep breath. The nightlife was small, quaint, and he didn't see many people active.

It made him happy.

Taking his time to admire the environment, he walked slowly, savoring each step of freedom that he was granted. It wasn't anything he was used to.

Whenever he'd be taken on a family vacation, his parents would have the entire itinerary for the trip, planned and ready, and there was very little straying from that. But now? He could - and decided to - just go, without checking in with Vincent, and it was fine!

Vincent didn't fight him or try to argue, he just… let him go. And he had yearned for that so much. It was the sense of freedom, the sense that he was maturing and could do whatever he wanted - in moderation - and decide his itinerary for the day, every day.

Oh yes, he definitely could get used to this.

Took a long ass time, I'm sorry. I actually have written a few chapters in advance, so I can try and upload on a more consistent schedule.

I want to clarify this since I feel like it will confuse some people, and I know this is a bit of an alternate take on the Pokémon universe, but it's rather simple (at least, in my mind).

There is only one actual, official, united governing body internationally, and that is the International Pokémon League, or IPL. Each region has their own governing body/system in place, but each 'champion' works ultimately for the IPL in my story.

I figured if I did a little worldbuilding, it would make a lot of sense to have an overarching, united government eventually pop up. Each region works with the IPL to ensure that the regions are funded, maintained, and function properly, and that Pokémon gyms and Elite 4 and all that fun stuff are up to standard. Basically, the IPL is just a body of government that makes sure all the regions play nice with each other, they won't be huge or a big factor in my story at all, I was trying to worldbuild a bit for the audience.

The other big organization I mentioned is the Universal Battling Association, or the UBA for short. This is not a branch of the IPL, but instead they organize and run tournaments all over the world, in each region, for the general public to be able to attend and watch, and generate revenue and interest from Pokémon battles.

As it stands, we've only seen, really, only one BIG BIG tournament in the anime, and that's the League Conference that Ash participates in every year. It made absolutely no sense to me that these would be the only big tournaments people watch every year. I feel like Pokémon tournaments would be HUGE in the world, and it would be like sport competitions, or like eSports, more accurately, so I decided to implement that a bit.

The UBA only hosts and schedules tournaments, they don't have anything to do with the governing bodies.

To summarize: IPL is the actual international governmental body, while the UBA is just an organization that runs tournaments for the public for revenue and merchandising.

I'm sorry if you think this is stupid or whatever but I've been toying with this idea for awhile, and I'm happy with it. I promise that while Malcolm will partake in tournaments, it won't be a huge focus - Except for the World Tournament ;)

Cheers for anyone who reads this lmao. Stay safe!