24.

Soldering Iron

Everything counts
in large amounts

WAYLON - DRAGON * BERTHA - GROUND * VERNA - GRASS * LUCIAN - PSYCHIC

"Every person in this world is born inevitably unique," said Lucian Ted-Walden Adcock, on the day he ascended into the Sinnoh Four.

"In every mind," he said, "is an experience that cannot be replicated. No impulse of memory fires in the brain the same as any other. No two pairs of eyes ever see the same sunrise, and if they should, it is reasonable one will always look with disgust while the other is lost in admiration. Never mind musings on which is wise and which is foolish. Thus, though we may find ourselves unimpressive on the surface, it should rather be noted that any quest for diversity, I daresay even cohesion, is naught but a facade and a farce. What we already have is no careful tesselation of colors and strengths. For all time our world has been a broken mirror. A place of natural discord. People vary as much as Pokémon, and just as new Pokémon are still discovered today, there will always be someone we have never met, who is different in ways we cannot possibly imagine."

That was Lucian's talent. He was a psychic, a scholar, and a master of uninspired speeches on diversity.

"Man, I can't understand a word he's saying. Rewind to the battles again."

That was Flint Perilla, twelve years old, that year's Lily-of-the-Valley Conference champion. He was sitting on the bed in his best friend Volkner's room shirtless, a towel twisted up tightly around his wet red curls and his toenails bouncing all over the plain gray comforter as he clipped them.

It was well past midnight. The only light came from the little blocky television set up in the middle of the floor. Volkner sat against the bed watching with tired eyes, a pudgy Aipom sleeping soundly in his lap. Around him were the dregs of chip bags and plastic trays of cookies. His fingers briefly brushed the sticky patch of carpet where Flint had spilled his orange pop. Where was that can? Someone was going to kick it over before morning and spill the rest. Hopefully not on the new soldering iron he'd bought with part of his prize money for making it to the semi-finals.

"Flint, where'd I put my soldering iron?"

"W'll, where'd you see it last?"

"It was on the carpet somewhere."

"Oh, I thought you meant it was in the garage. It's not gonna come on and burn us, is it?"

"Nah, it's not plugged into the battery pack."

"Now I'm gonna be scared of that all night too," Flint said, giving the smoke alarm above the door a brief glance. He could never get over how the occasional red flash looked like an eye that judged him while he slept.

Better to judge him, Flint thought then. As conference champion he'd won a chance to officially challenge the Elite Four, either for one of their seats, or for the coveted title of Pokémon League Champion. Waylon, Bertha, Verna, and Lucian had treated him like a little prince at dinner, buying him pop and extra fries and cookies for dessert, and the very next day his first opponent was Bertha, the Ground Grandmistress, who stifled all his flames in a matter of seven minutes and sent him stinging back to his squalid Sunyshore apartment.

It stung all the more knowing the previous year's champion had been Lucian, and he'd taken a seat no sweat.

"I can't take the batteries out," Volkner was saying. "The last time I did that my parents thought I was trying to cause a blackout. That's why I can't have any tools in my room either."

"Oh… so the soldering iron shouldn't even be in here then."

"No, it's in here. I just can't remember where I put it."

"Will you look for it?" Flint said, worry rising in his voice. "I won't sleep unless you look for it."

"It's not gonna burn you, Flint. The tip cools down when it's not in use."

"I'm gonna find it in the bed and try to put it back, and then your parents are gonna catch me and say we can't hang out anymore. That's what happened when we tried to make that bomb."

"You wrapped electrical tape and zip ties around a tennis ball and threw it into the neighbors' backyard."

"You called it a bomb. I got caught telling Magby to light it on fire. Come on, VJ, I can't even have my Pokémon out when I'm at your house anymore. We're just watching battle tapes and talking like girls."

Volkner sighed, wondering if that comment had any weight when they'd spent a solid month on their journey playing dress-up and decorating ball capsules. Flint couldn't afford to buy a suit. He'd gone into the contest halls in flip-flops and a shedding yellow feather boa. By the end of it there were zero ribbons between them and one smelled like burnt plastic all the way to Snowpoint.

"I'm sorry about that. I think it's just… like… you're from the bad side of town, right? My parents just think you're a hooligan."

"Oh yeah? Could a hooligan win the frickin' championship?"

Flint clenched his fists, kicking the nail clipper off the bed. There was a clink, and Volkner's toes were suddenly cold and wet.

"You're a little… aimless," Volkner admitted.

"I'm just not smart like you are."

The blond boy pulled apart another sandwich cookie and scraped off the cream with his bottom teeth, still in braces and crowded with folded bits of popcorn shell.

"I mean… I didn't say anything when you decided to spend all your prize money on junk food."

"And a trampoline," Flint stressed.

"That you have to go to Darius' house to use, 'cause you don't have a yard, and I'm not allowed on it anyway."

"Darius would let you jump on it."

"Darius isn't my parents," Volkner said. He passed up Aipom for Flint to cuddle and lay down on his side, fishing under the bed for his missing power tool.

"Man I got no reason to even be friends with you," Flint moaned. "You don't even talk about wanting to be Champion anymore. I don't care about your soldering iron. I don't even know what it's for."

"I wanna be an engineer like my parents, okay? Why's that wrong?"

"'Cause it's boring."

"You're boring."

"I'm not boring!" Flint shouted. "I'm… I'm still gonna be somebody!"

Volkner thought he was somebody already. There was the Poké Chic cover story. He got dinner with the Elite Four. Shook their hands. The other kids even said he kissed Cynthia on the lips under the bleachers — the pretty girl with the long blonde hair who dropped out. Also she gave him her training bra, some said. And Flint was ugly.

But he didn't bring it up. There wasn't time. All that shouting and there was movement out in the darkness of the hallway. Quick as lightning, Volkner turned off the television and jumped into bed, pulling the comforter over both of them, as well as the sleeping Pokémon sandwiched between. Even still, Flint's breath was hot and huffy, and Volkner's head was out the other end of the covers next to his feet before he found himself remotely comfortable. He pretended to sleep while a shadow peered in from the doorway, then gave a deep breath out when it passed.

"A soldering iron is for…" he whispered. How to make it sound interesting? Flint was only jealous, but all the same…

"Ya use it to melt down this alloy called solder so you can use it to stick different components together. It's like metal glue. More useful than welding, 'cause it doesn't take much heat to melt as the copper or silicon, and you can always remove it if the bond doesn't work right."

There came only a sleepy whimper in reply.

Carefully, Volkner slipped out of bed. He retrieved a stool from downstairs, and without the aid of even a mundane tool, he removed the batteries from the smoke alarm. Then he set to work searching for the soldering iron until he found it tucked safely in its case in the garage where it belonged.

"There. Nothing can hurt you," he said, giving the big red head a smack. "Are we still friends?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You're takin' the fall for that stain on the carpet, though."

BERTHA - GROUND * LUCIAN - PSYCHIC * COOPER - POISON * NATTY - NORMAL

It was morning in Sunyshore City. A golden-red sparkle was painting the brightening east, and the moist sand was frigid between Volkner's toes as he stepped barefoot into the surf.

With a deep breath, he stretched his arms high above his head, then bent the elbows and clasped his hands around the opposite shoulders. He arched his back, feeling the soreness of a long night lying crooked on lumpy pillows. The bed in his dorm back west was so much nicer. But he wasn't a mattress engineer, and the numbers were all falling out of his head anyway as he breathed in that salty summer morning air.

With a smile, Volkner grasped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up off over his head, tossing it on top of his flip-flops behind him. He waded out waist-deep, paused for a moment as the biting cold splashed against his stomach, and then let it take him up to the shoulders until he was treading water, a spiky yellow head bobbing languidly amidst the blue.

The beach beneath the Vista Lighthouse wasn't meant for swimming. There were pits in the sand beneath the waves, and when the tide came in the water crashed against the concrete retaining wall, high enough to spray the sandals of those looking out from the pier at approaching ships. But it was a calm morning, and the water was much lower, so Volkner found himself gliding over toward the corner where the lighthouse stood tall.

His muscles itched as his body warmed up. His chest began to strain. Was he that out of shape? Just for fun, he thrust his head under and kicking down as far as he could before the pressure bore down and a plume of bubbles broke from his lips.

Then back up he came, spitting, spluttering. Splashing and shaking off the seaweed from his hair. The world was blurry and slightly stung, and he struggled to stay upright.

"You tryna find my dad's keys down there, or what!?"

Through the salty blur Volkner saw a bright puff of scarlet behind the guardrail on top of the concrete block. Beside it was a plume of flames, and both were waving long, skinny arms to get his attention.

"You can't hide from the Skarlet Wildfire. I know who to look for in my city," called Flint, the Sunyshore Gym Leader. "Also, quit it with the keys, man. That's brutal."

"Hey, Flint!" Volkner spat amidst his struggling. "I thought with a pyro in charge around here the water'd be a little warmer!"

"You're cold? I thought lightning was as hot as the surface of the sun."

"Luxray doesn't like getting wet."

Flint broke into a scratchy laugh. "I've waited so long for you to come back. Get up here. We'll getcha warm."

Volkner obliged, swimming slowly back around to the beach and crawling up to where Flint slapped a towel over his head and vaporized every drop of water on his body with a quick command to Infernape. Volkner's hair poofed in every direction, then sparkled and spiked.

"I know you got home last night," Flint was babbling, "but I know you like to sleep and I didn't wanna startle you. Also I thought you might go for a morning swim, and the lighthouse is your favorite spot, and also I brought you an éclair. Ya like the vanilla ones, right? It's not totally fresh 'cause I bought it a few days ago when I got the message you were really coming back, and last night was my birthday party and I knew I wasn't gonna be sober for long. Man, you shoulda been there. Rapidash finished off the cake. That's probably why the éclair is nibbled too. I can buy you a new one. Wow, the dynamic duo's together after what, eight months? I still can't believe I'm looking at you in real life! Frickin' engineering major extraordinaire or whatever the frick."

Volkner raised a brow. "Engineering? My major is GIS. You know that."

"Eh… sure," Flint said, not knowing that.

"Data mapping. City planning. With my internship this summer I get paid to build drones for a company in Jubilife City and help survey where the most crime takes place. I can't wait to do something similar here in Sunyshore. I think with you as Gym Leader and me heading technology we could really make a change. We'll make people actually wanna come here and hang out."

"Right... Volk, there's something I need to get off my chest. Let's go to the gym, and I'll explain."

Volkner shrugged as he slipped his shirt back on. "You made it sound like an emergency when you called. I'm super busy this summer with the internship, but if you need me to stay a few days I think I can manage."

With his eyes cleared up he got a better look at his friend. Flint's hair had gotten longer, bushy curls hanging in strings past his shoulders and greasy in his face. The gray eyes were more smokey than steely, heavy like cinders long after the blaze. His back was stooped. One leg was shaved. His tank top was wrinkled and stained, and he smelled like sweat and mouthwash and something disgustingly bitter. The rubber thong of his left flip-flop was torn off the left side, only held in place by a strip of tape, and the sole of the other one was flapping as he trod back up the beach.

"Some twentieth, huh?" Volkner said, trying to stave off more worrisome thoughts.

"These girls from Hoenn were there," said Flint. "They wanted to battle me topless."

"Nope. Don't need to hear it."

"No, no it's cool. They had a Torkoal that breathed out smoke to cover up their—"

"Stop it."

"You're so boring."

"You're…" Volkner sighed. "You're lucky you got me as a friend."

"You wanna try some Hoennese weed?"

"What, you're a stoner now?"

"Nah, I just take a hit, then hand it out the rest of the night. I'm the life o' the party. You should really try some o' this, though. I bet once you get Blaziken'd your brain will invent a time machine or some crap."

The Sunyshore Gym was on the other side of the pier — small and ramshackle even with Flint's hasty renovations the previous year. The League symbol above the front door didn't light up at night. The flames spray-painted on the walls were covered up with more sinister tags and curses. Currently there was a half-melted leather recliner in the front yard and a number of broken bottles scattered in the grass. Flint walked past these like he couldn't even see them and led Volkner inside.

And then tripped over a toilet plunger, faceplanting in what looked like a puddle of tomato soup that dripped all the way down the hall to the Gym Leader's Lounge. Volkner pulled him up by the elbows, wincing at the stickiness.

"Let's… maybe not hang out in the lounge," Flint muttered.

"You really trashed this place. Does Darius know?"

"Darius is still gone on his voyage. I don't think he'll be back soon."

"Darius is the type to blow in unannounced. Is this what you want him to see of his successor?"

Shivering, Flint took the towel from Volkner and scrubbed as much soup and cheese dust as he could off his face. He gestured then to the arena doors. The gym was too tiny for a pit. Its battlefield was the smallest allowed for official matches, and the only seating was a set of twenty metal folding chairs which were strewn about a mess of shredded pillows mixed with shoes, balloons, plastic cups, and drywall. Flint's Lopunny lay asleep in the middle of a mattress drug across the Gym Leader's podium, a feather gently rising and falling on its nose with each breath.

Volkner placed a hand on Flint's shoulder and squeezed. The gray was burning deeper, flaking, crumbling to ash and going cold.

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

"I remember drinking orange pop out of the toilet with a curly straw," Flint whispered. "I remember Infernape doing a line of—"

"Okay, I don't need to know everything. Now, uh… what did you wanna talk about?"

Volkner sat down on the nearest dry pillow. He patted a folding chair, and Flint took his place there, looking oddly in-place with the disheveled everything.

"I'm quitting," Flint said. "I can't be a Gym Leader anymore. It's not gonna work."

"It's been eight months."

"What do you think I've done all that time? Partied? Um… okay, I've partied… a lot… but I've also challenged the Four and Champion Cynthia two hundred and twenty-three times. Multiple times per day. Sometimes in the middle of the night. I… can't beat her. I can't… I'll never be strong enough. I'm not gonna be anybody. I'm… just aimless."

"You are insane."

"I don't have a cool gimmick. My gym is literally trashed. Trainers avoid this city. I don't think they even know they can win a badge here. And if they do, they don't know I once won Lily-of-the-Valley. Volkner, I can't do this."

"Yes you can! You're a great trainer!"

"I can't!" Flint shouted. "I thought I'd figure it out, but that's just it. I'm a nobody! I'm a guy in flip-flops! I'm a hooligan! I'm not smart! I'm not interesting! This isn't my destiny!"

Volkner leaned over his knees, clenching his fists. "Well, what do you want me to do about it? Because I'm sick of listening to you talk like this. Why did you call me here? Just to have a body you can dump your sucky attitude on?"

Flint huffed. He reached a shaky hand into the pocket of his swim trunks. Then he pulled out a small object, which he placed in Volkner's hand. It was his version of the Beacon Badge — a fiery red corona emitting from a black tower. And it was polished up like a gem.

"I'm leaving Sunyshore, and I want you to take over the gym."

"Not gonna happen."

"Please, VJ."

"I'm in college! I don't wanna be Pokémon League Champion! That was always your dream!"

"You don't have to be Champion. Just be the Gym Leader. Make it an Electric gym. Be electrifying."

"What, your dream doesn't work so now I can't have mine either. Is that how it goes?"

"I thought your dream was to make Sunyshore safe and happy. You can do that as Gym Leader. You can battle and tinker. The League pays you for all that."

"By… Don't you guilt me into this. I'm not cleaning up the mess you made. And I'm not gonna sit around while you find yourself either. What's wrong with you!?"

"I don't know. I feel like a lit fuse inside."

"You're sure acting like a hooligan if I've ever seen one. And I have. Fighting them off with you when we were kids."

"I know. I'm an idiot, and I can't help it. My emotions are just all over the place. That's why I know I can't stay here. I need to leave home. To get stronger. To find out who I'm really supposed to be. And you… you'd make an incredible Gym Leader. You're everything a Gym Leader's supposed to be. You're kind and creative and intelligent and interesting—"

"And I don't hate myself?"

"That's a plus."

The sharp angles softened in Volkner's face. Flint was shaking, hugging himself on the folding chair, or maybe just clutching an upset stomach from whatever he'd consumed at the party.

"Maybe I just clung onto you as a kid because you were more interesting than me," Flint said. "Because I knew you'd be somebody."

"Is that what you think our friendship is? Clinging? You think you're, what, soldered to me?"

"Well, we're not welded."

"Yeah. We're not. Because you have your own brain and you can use it to be a real person if you want. Why am I so special?"

"You're a genius."

"For frick's sake. I came all the way here because I thought you were in real trouble. Now where's the fire, huh?"

"It's… my fire's out, Volk. I'm quitting. And I guess… I'll find someone else to be the Gym Leader if you won't do it. Because I really, really can't stay. I just thought I'd offer it to you first because you're my best friend."

Volkner stared up at the ceiling. The three-pronged fan was turning slowly, hanging by a dripping strip of plaster where a hole had been punched… or burned.

"Battle me," he said. "You. Me. Beach. Now."

"Why?"

"With all your power," said Volkner. "Show me why you can't be anyone. Prove it. Let my lightning defeat your fire, or defend your own dignity. Who are you?"

"You want a battle of succession?"

Volkner shook his head.

"No, Leader Flint. I just want a cheap thrill kicking your ass."

BERTHA - GROUND * LUCIAN - PSYCHIC * COOPER - POISON * AARON - BUG

No one had ever managed to take Volkner's breath away like she did, right in that moment, under the bright, hot white buzz of the strip lights hanging precariously from wire coat hangers above his workbench. Pressed between the rubber-coated fingers of his work gloves, winking up at the iridescent teal smear of patina on his collarbone while he leaned ever closer, ocean eyes flashing beneath the safety glasses and straight brows pinched in lightning focus.

It wasn't Leader Jasmine. She was sitting cross-legged on the concrete by the empty propane canisters reading a book and trying to forget the hem of her sundress was still dripping with neon green spray paint. No, Volkner was staring down at the delicate circuit board freshly soldered and stuck with a shiny new silver cylinder where he'd pried the corroded one off with pliers.

He pulled off the mask and let the elastic snap against his neck, freeing up the dirty-gold wings of hair sticking with sweat to the sides of his jaw. Then he wiped the tip of the iron on the wet sponge and sneezed at the putrid puff of smoke.

"She's a beauty, this one," Volkner said.

"Did you isolate the issue?" asked Jasmine.

Jasmine had been hopeful he'd "isolate the issue" for the past three hours while he tore up the trade machine and tested every component of the motherboard with his multimeter. The sunset had come and gone. No time to enjoy it now on a barefoot walk down Sunyshore Beach.

"Busted conduit. I guessed as much, but sometimes I like a more thorough job. It gives me ideas."

And she forgave him for his "thoroughness," her pale face going pink at the smile he flashed. The Sunyshore Gym Leader was in his element. Circular saws were bolted to scraps of their own sliced-up two-by-four. Severed ends of copper rods lay idly on the floor. That stack of shredded cardboard boxes in the corner was all little black plastic cubes of circuit breakers. Five gallon buckets held red and black wire connectors like candy.

There were bins and containers of cords and plugs and hunks of metal and rolls of tape and drills with bits and pliers and wires and cutters and crimpers and mugs of nuts and bolts and washers and screws and squirt bottles filled with paint and distilled water and coffee mixed with motor oil and switches and servos and mason jars shaped like light bulbs.

And actual light bulbs. A collection of hundreds, still packaged and stacked on a shelf made out of a dented tonneau cover hung from the ceiling with chains of hot pink zip ties.

Leader Volkner had wanted to build a new gym. His own gym. And he'd built it. And he was still in the midst of building it, when the workshop attached to the arena wasn't cluttered with gutted machines.

"Yeeep, I can flip pretty much anything," he mused. "Tradecos, SwapMeets, Roulettes, those novelty Pory Traders… These kids keep bringing me their Poké Dexes to fix. Yesterday I made fifty bucks on this sweet old thing from Johto."

"Volkner!" cried Jasmine.

"Hey, I gave him a gym battle, too."

"Did you go easy on him?"

"Of course not."

The Olivine Gym Leader popped up from the concrete and smoothed her white dress like a flower in the spring, then crossed the floor to where he leaned back against the bench. She poked him playfully in the stomach and pouted.

"You're not supposed to be mean to your challengers."

"I'm not mean. I'm not mean, Jasmine! I got myself a reputation to uphold. You know what they call me."

"I bet they call you a big jerk," she said, hugging him close and resting her head on his chest. He ran both hands down her long soft waves of chestnut hair, humming in his throat — that famous breathy tenor sending static down her spine.

"I bet you're not so nice once they see you got a Steelix up your sleeve."

"You don't think my Rusty can be gentle?"

"Well, what do you think a gym battle is? You're not s'posed to be gentle when you're the obstacle to overcome."

"It's not like you're fighting another Gym Leader, though. How many kids come up to you all nervous without a single badge? You terrify them."

Volkner shrugged, glancing once more down at the beautiful circuit board. When he felt Jasmine start to shift, he placed both gloved hands on her shoulders and pushed her slightly back, just so he could lean in and brush his lips against her neck.

"There is no room in my heart for mediocrity. The Beacon Badge only goes to trainers who can shock me."

"Some celebrity you've become in only a year," she whispered. "The Electric Engineer. The Shining, Shocking Star. To think you almost turned the offer down."

"I saved the city by saying yes," Volkner purred between kisses. "I'll rule this place 'til I stop having fun, and then as soon as I figure out how to get past the Ground Grandmistress I'm gonna challenge the Four and zap that little Bug catcher who inched his way in."

"Leave Aaron alone. He's gotten enough flack already this week with those cheating rumors."

"Officials said he didn't cheat."

"Yeah, well the Four are saying he did. Especially Cooper. He's saying the officials are bending the rules so Aaron can be the first Bug user among the Four. The amount of publicity that's getting is 'poisonous,' he said."

"Cooper's a slimy loser. I watched all five of Aaron's matches live and studied the tapes after. Those moves were legal, and way too easy to counteract with a little Electric Terrain."

Jasmine giggled, leaning into his touch. "It won't thrill you to squash a bug. You're smart enough to win Bertha's seat. She's been there forever."

"No matter how smart I am, if it's Bertha I can't finish with Thunderbolt."

"Do you have to finish with Thunderbolt?"

He pulled back, smirking, incredulous, and she rose on tiptoes to kiss him gently on the lips.

"I want a walk," Jasmine said then, pulling away. She scampered over to one of the many black rolling creepers, where she picked up the even more famous blue jacket with the six gold electrodes soldered to the sleeves and put it on.

"S'pose if I inhale any more fumes I can't compete with the guy in your romance novel," Volkner said, and followed her out the sliding screen door into the moonlight. The new Sunyshore Gym was hidden away among the trees of a sandy cove. Sharp shells bit into Jasmine's bare feet. Volkner's strong arms held her back from stepping on the hidden pincer of a Krabby in the sand.

"Oh, I love the smell of the ocean," she said, gazing down at the waves lapping cheerfully on the shore. "And the lighthouse beaming at night. Is this really such a horrible place to live?"

"No, of course not. I was born here," Volkner replied. "It's just not very pretty. Or safe, really, for outsiders. But I've got plans for it. We're gonna start with the solar boardwalk, and then—"

He stood suddenly still, and clutched her close, her breath hitching. They'd both heard it — a loud, shrill shriek not too far up the beach from where they stood, and then a long, haunting cry of anguish. Not a Pokémon, but a human cry.

"Oh my god, Volkner. What… what is that?"

"Luxray!" Volkner commanded, throwing a Poké Ball and releasing the cat with glowing golden eyes. "Show me who's hurt and where. Jasmine, go back inside."

"No, I wanna stay with you."

"Jasmine," he forced, all the suaveness of earlier replaced with an aura of steel. "Sunyshore is dangerous at night, and as its sworn protector I am not gonna have you out here when somebody's screaming."

She didn't respond. Just pointed. Something was writhing on the sand before them. A large, green shape, dragging itself along until Luxray lifted it by the hood and brought it swiftly to Volkner's feet. By his command, the cat rolled it over onto its back with a paw.

It was a lithe and lean young man, still moaning in pain, both his spidery hands clasped over a sticky wet puncture in the side of his tracksuit jacket. He convulsed, legs kicking out and shoulders rapidly twitching before seizing in paralysis. A sickly purple bloomed beneath the skin of his face. All at once his fingers slipped, and a gush of slimy purple bubbles oozed from the wound in his stomach.

"Jasmine, call an ambulance and bring me an antidote from the medicine closet. He's been poisoned."

"Right," she cut, dashing back into the workshop, and Volkner was right behind her, scooping the injured man up in his arms and kicking open the screen door.

Seeing no soft spot to lay him, he set him on a creeper and hastily sliced through the jacket and shirt with a boxcutter. The whole torso was smeared with red, quickly changing into purple as the poison spread. Rising, Volkner kicked the creeper over toward the work bench. He gripped the still-hot soldering iron in his right hand and snapped the mask back up over his nose with the left.

"All right, buddy. We gotta cauterize that."

"Volkner! Don't!"

"I'm gonna use the wood-burning tip! It's got more surface area! Okay, relax and think of your favorite Pokémon. This is gonna hurt like a Bidoof."

"Just tie the jacket really tight around him. Or rip my dress or something."

"That's a nice dress!"

"You got green paint on it!"

Green paint. Neon green. Like the frazzled hair and glazed eyes of the man bathed in sweat and heaving below him.

"Aaron?" Volkner whispered.

It was Aaron, the Eterna Gym Leader, who only days before had stolen Natty's seat with the Elite Four and was spending the rest of the week in Sunyshore City before he was to officially ascend. An Elite lay before Volkner suffering from some cruel attack in the night. And there was a flash of recognition in those green eyes before they clouded and closed. Purple spilled from Aaron's mouth. It leeched from his pores and bubbled beneath Volkner's gloved hands as he struggled to get a firm grip on the paralyzed limbs. A slimy thumb reached back in his pocket to click the button on another Poké Ball, and the yellow ape coalesced above him.

"Electivire, zap the bug catcher," he sighed. "Keep his heart working. We'll keep him alive by sheer voltage if we have to."

The two tails zapped and spat out sparks like a welding torch as they approached Aaron's chest.

"Gentle," Volkner stressed.

Strange how gentle he could be if he tried.

LUCIAN - PSYCHIC * BERTHA - GROUND * AARON - BUG * ? - ?

Alola in August was a blue-hot blowtorch.

Volkner supposed it was the same way in every other month, the four islands lying near the equator, but in only a day his whole back was burnt and baked, and the skin of his arms and face was completely crisped, and the beach was too crowded, and the air conditioning was broken in his hotel room.

Nonexistent, actually, as the concierge informed him. It was part of a region-wide eco-friendly architecture initiative. An engineer like him should be thrilled. Would he like to see the solar panels on the roof? Or a demonstration of the heat-deflecting blinds and the hydro generator?

"No thanks, I'll just retrofit the mini fridge into an AC later," Volkner snapped. It was his most Volknerish sentence all day. Yes? No. Definitely behind "Why can't I conceal and carry my soldering iron on the plane if I want to" and "Dammit, do you even know who I am."

That was at… three in the morning. Now it was noon. A weird Alolan Lahaina noon, with the sun directly overhead. Streetlights didn't have shadows and everything looked fake and it bothered him. Volkner yawned and stared at the hot white sand through his sunglasses. He accepted a malasada from Raichu, whose cheeks were stuffed with at least ten. Took a bite. Winced at the extra heat in his mouth, but softened at the fluffy, sugary sweetness.

"That's the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," he sighed. "Did you get more?"

"Rai-rai!"

"You're my only good friend, Raichu."

And Raichu would've shared the malasadas with its trainer, if not for Ambipom bursting out of its Poké Ball and snatching them all up with both of its nimble tails. The greedy monkey finished them in seconds, slumping down into an immediate sugar crash.

Volkner whipped his left arm out, slamming the capsule into the middle of Ambipom's forehead and relishing the squeak it made when it disappeared inside.

"This is so stupid," he grumbled, storming off down the beach through the maze of towels and umbrellas and pungent puddles of spilled sunscreen. "I was in the middle of building the solar boardwalk. I was drawing plans for my gym. I had a battle lined up with Lieutenant Surge. I was gonna bring Jasmine to the League Gala. I should be the one in that castle getting ready to ascend! What the hell even…"

He stopped, the searing sunlight bearing down on the back of his neck like an actual weight. For a moment, his heart had faltered and lagged in his chest. He grasped the front of his shirt with both hands, twisting the fabric, pressing his wrists tightly into his sternum.

"You know what. No. No, I'm not doing this. I'm going back to Sinnoh, I'm gonna march right up to them, and I'm telling them her choice is a mistake. It's not him they want. It's me. I'll ascend with Aaron. There'll be no more of this stupid waiting around for somebody who's not even gonna show up. They wanna shock the world? Let me shock the whole damn world."

"Raichu."

"WHAT."

Raichu had twisted its tail up around Volkner's jeans, squeezing his legs together until it hurt. It was pointing a paw down toward the water, at a lone figure lying prostrate in a shallow pit of sand.

"Nope, not doing it," he said. "Not my place. Not my choice."

But his partner wouldn't let go, and some darkened part of Volkner's heart had sparked when seeing that person lying alone. A kinder, softer, more patient part, that swelled and grew and won him over before he could even form a coherent objection.

He tapped Raichu's head, and it loosened and let him move forward, toward the surf. Toward the fake-looking water resembling fake blue raspberry punch painting and staining the floor of a battlefield.

Dripping from the ceiling fan.

Soaking into the carpet.

"Hey, Flint," Volkner said, nudging the pathetic man awake with a sandal. Lahaina noon was slipping away, just enough to make his shadow spill forth a few inches, from a perfect circle to a sliver of darkness cast across his best friend's face.

Flint's eyes opened wide, incredulous. He choked, then coughed. Sand spilled out his nostrils and sprayed from his hair. It was a shadow of Flint, anyway, with red peeling skin and a rag of a tank top hanging off his skinny frame.

"It took a while to find you. They were convinced you were still in Hoenn, but I knew you came here. This suits you better. A lot more… heat."

He was going to say a lot more nothing. A lot more absolutely nothing. But he held back. Kept the wires from connecting in his brain, though he could taste the magnetic pull. The iron twisting. Copper wanting. Silver bearing solder melting.

"Volkner. Hey," Flint said softly. "It's been a while. Are you on vacation?"

"No, Flint. I'm here on Sinnoh League business."

Flint sat up, pressing his palms into the water behind him so he could stretch his shoulders.

"Damn. You're so fancy now. Gym Leader Volkner on official Sinnoh League business. How's that going for you? I, uh, I haven't kept up with… crap. I'm sorry. I should've called you."

And I tried calling you every week for a year and had to settle with circling your name in battle ranking magazines watching you make progress like a dusty candle, but sure. Sure, Flint. You should've called.

"They got you on a sponsored tour, or what? Hey, sit down with me. I'd getcha a drink, but I got banned from the cabana again with the literal monkey business. I just kinna chill on the beach most days. I'm in paradise."

There were a thousand questions Volkner could've asked. Do you know who you are now? Are you stronger now? Are you drunk right now? Are you serious right now?

"Do you have any idea what's going on in Sinnoh right now?"

Flint flopped over in the sand again, a low moan building in his throat.

"Maybe? Like… Volk, I'm really sorry. I was in Hoenn for a long time. Forgive me if I'm a little slow on Sinnoh."

"There's been a turnover in the Elite Four."

"Really? That's incredible! Who's the new Elite?"

"Aaron of Eterna City. He's the first Bug user to join the Four in Sinnoh's history."

Flint rolled over on his back and grinned before realizing he was staring directly at the sun and throwing himself on his stomach.

"He won his seat fairly. And then Cooper, convinced Aaron was cheating, sent his Toxicroak to try and murder him while he was out for an evening run."

Flint sat bolt upright. "You're kidding," he said.

"I'm not. I saved Aaron's life that night. He was badly poisoned and would've died if I hadn't forced electricity to keep surging through his heart."

"A murderer in the Four?"

"Not anymore. Aaron knew the Pokémon that attacked him and Cooper was forced to confess. The guy was crazy. As Top Elite Lucian made him abdicate, and he was arrested soon after. So… with the empty seat there's going to be a double turnover."

"Sweet. That's sweet! They gonna pick a super strong Gym Leader to step up?"

The sun beat down. The water seemed thick. The air was like dry ash in Volkner's mouth, and the wires connected for an instant in his brain, lighting up the current that could end it all now. Turn back. Make it make sense.

Shock. Thrill. Electrify.

"They want you to have the seat. I'm… here to take you back to Sinnoh so you can ascend."

He expected a laugh. He expected a noise of annoyance. Of "Leave me alone," or "Don't give me that crap," and a grown man rolling off into the sea and then spluttering back up to land.

But Flint Perilla rose, sober, and nodded, solemn.

"I accept," he said. "I am honored to become one of the Four."

I walked five miles round-trip to the Home Depot to ask about soldering irons. The guy in Electrical smiled when I said I was a writer. Then we had like a two-week long conversation in my friend group about whether it's legal for an eleven-year-old to purchase one and how to wield it and whether it could be used to cauterize an assassin's poison claw wound. And then I asked "Do you think Flint looks like a stoner?" and the consensus was "No, but he's an idiot."

So tonight at the dinner table I told my dearest friend "I finished the chapter. Our conversation about soldering irons is over."

"They are no longer relevant to our interests," said my dearest friend.

And we sat in uncomfortable silence.

Published by Syntax-N on FanFiction . Net November 7th, 2022. Do not repost on other sites. Thanks for all the faves, follows, and reviews!