The Long Walk Chapter 29: The Balance of Power, a pokémon fanfic

Chapter Twenty Four - The Balance of Power

Evelina

Block B, Day 3

Joslyn Singer: 0

Evelina Joy: 5

Asma Jameel: 4

Block K, Day 3

Melissa Evans: 7

Florianne Favager: 0

Dione Page: 6

Eve had been waiting on Court 2 for more than ten minutes. She glanced up into the stands, where Josh was lurking in his guise as Melissa, his infant roselia securely nestled into the crook of his arm. He gave her a girly little wave. Eve raised a fist in mock defiance, trying to appear completely fearless. She'd recently cottoned on to his admiration of her as a trainer. Oh, alright. Aunt Immey had cottoned her on to that, with an expression that radiated 'I'm so proud of you'. That was Immey displaying that peculiar kind of Joy family girl power, right there. The kind of girl power you can't help but want to live up to, Eevee-girl.

Her opponent was late. This was supposed to be the last battle of the round-robin – the last chance, in fact, to earn enough points to get into the Quarter Finals. She needed a win. The certainty of that fact made her nervous, more nervous than she would care to admit.

The referee approached with a tired look on his face. "If she isn't here in the next five minutes I'll have to award you a three point win by default," he said.

"Alright," Eve said reluctantly. Winning because she had better timekeeping didn't feel much like a win at all.

Fortunately it didn't come to that. She turned up a couple of minutes later, frantically apologising.

"Sorry … sorry I'm late … I can start," she huffed breathlessly.

"Take a couple of minutes to catch your breath. Don't you even think about disqualifying her!" she told the referee. There was a flurry of spectator laughter at his expression.

The girl clutched her thighs while she caught her breath. She was an awkward-looking teenager, somewhat skinny with overlarge front teeth she'd probably grow into. The black trilby perched atop her flyway hair didn't suit her at all.

She suddenly pointed challengingly at Eve. "Now I'm ready! You'd better brace yourself, Joy!"

"Oh, sweetling, I'm always braced."

"If I might get a word in edgeways?" the referee said testily. "This Block B battle between Evelina Joy of Cherrygrove City and Asma Jameel of Fuschia City is about to begin! You know the rules. Begin!"

"Pineco, you have the honour!" Eve started.

"Arcanine, let's go!" Asma yelled.

Oh, bloody hell.

Arcanine always seemed to know how majestic they were. This one sat back proudly on its haunches, its lustrous mane rippling in the breeze. It was on the small side, perhaps – a premature evolution? The obvious thing to do would be to switch out. Hopefully Asma didn't know switching out would be a useless move, so … she would probably switch out in anticipation.

She took a chance. "Spike Cannon!"

"Dodge it, Arcanine!"

Bollocks. Out-gambitted. Arcanine casually dodged the attack, flowing easily around the flying spikes. Pin Missile would be more accurate but nowhere near powerful enough -

"Fire Spin, go!"

"Protect!"

Flames splashed around the Protect bubble and enveloped Pineco in a cloak of fire. The flames twisted into a hollow cyclone – Eve could see her hazy silhouette among the smoke.

"Return, Pineco!" Eve commanded. The recall beam split apart in a flickering red lightning-flash. Eve tried recalling her pokémon again with exactly the same result. She didn't really expect anything else. The Fire Spin was good and tight, no gaps to squirt a recall beam through. "Rapid Spin, as quick as you can Pineco!"

Fire Spin bulged out at the base, palpitating fretfully. The cyclone throbbed uncertainly and squeezed close again. Damnit. Damnit, damnit. Eve's mind was an uncharacteristic blank; for once she had no idea what to do next. Damnit. She might have got me here.

Well, she wasn't going to just do nothing. "Spike Cannon!" she ordered for what it was worth. Pineco did her best, firing a spread of spikes in Arcanine's general direction. Not one hit. The obscuring swirl of Fire Spin ruined her aim.

"Ha ha ha!" Asma declared triumphantly. "In me trap! Arcanine, finish it with Flame Wheel!"

With a sonorous, lingering howl, Arcanine enveloped itself in fire. Eve suddenly realised: she did have one option left. Arcanine charged, streaming a glowing trail of cinders behind it. Thirty feet away. Asma was grinning, totally assured of an easy victory.

Ten feet away. Close enough.

"Self-Destruct!"

The middle of the battlefield erupted in a ball of smoke and flame. The hard thump of the passing shockwave slapped into Eve. A hot wind blasted past, driving the shredded remnants of Fire Spin before it. Smoke stung her eyes, making them run with tears.

When she managed to clear her vision the smoke had mostly cleared. The Self-Destruct had punched a neat crater in the field with Pineco lying at the bottom, scorched back, her ablative bark armour scattered in a ragged flaming halo. Arcanine had been thrown into a crumpled heap, its tongue lolling out comically.

"No-oo!" Asma howled dramatically over the referee's judgement.

"- to battle! This match is a draw! Evelina, select your next pokémon."

"Return, Pineco. Rest well, huh?" she told her. She deserved it. That was a narrow, narrow escape – Arcanine could have swept most of her team by itself. "Alright Meowth! You have the honour!"

[What's up, boss?] Meowth said, as if he didn't know. He washed himself fetchingly while he was the centre of attention.

"Ha. Ha ha ha! Ha hahaha! Your second mistake, Joy! Go for it, Sneasel!" Asma yelled, a triumphant declaration that baffled Eve. Her sneasel flexed his claws, a constant wavering condensation cloud rising from his fur.

A disc of water rapidly formed in front of Meowth's face and fired off at Sneasel, bursting on impact into a wave of spray that crystallised almost instantly into hail.

"Since when can you use Water Pulse!" Eve yelled in an affronted fury.

[I'm a cat that knows where it's at.]

"That's not an answer you rotten moggy!"

"Ice Shard, Sneasel, let's go!" Asma ordered. Meowth tried to dodge off to the right, Ice Shards shattering on the field behind him. A brace of razor-edged darts sliced shallowly across his hindquarters.

"Get in there!" Eve snapped. Meowth fell upon Sneasel with savage gusto, pouncing on him claws-first. [Alright, let's have iiit!]

Dark fur flew as he ripped into his opponent. Sneasel's claw flicked out – and missed – in retaliation. The sudden fury and complete lack of finesse in Meowth's assault caught the weasel by surprise, Fury Swipes raining down on any body part that looked momentarily unguarded.

[I'll gut yer, you greasy -]

"Uh, try a Metal Claw!"

With a slightly desperate effort Sneasel created an opening, batting a paw aside with Metal Claw and knocking Meowth off on the return swing; Meowth simply dropped to his back and raked at Sneasel's belly with his hind claws. The combat devolved into a demented brawl, Meowth's black fur and Sneasel's dark blue fur blending into a chaotic blur, set to a soundtrack of hissing, snarling and yowling. Asma kept giving orders, to no noticeable effect.

Abruptly they broke apart, each circling the other warily as they fought to catch their breath. Eve couldn't tell who had come off the loser from that. Alright then, time to gain the edge.

"Flash. Hone your claws!"

"Go for it, Metal Claw!"

Flashing clouds of shifting light obscured the battlefield, the white magnesium-glare of Flash reflecting harshly off Sneasel's Metal Claws and searing after-images across both trainer's vision. Eve blinked furiously, catching incomplete glimpses of the second brawl. Meowth's howling and cursing intermingled with Sneasel's high-pitched snarling. The combatants rolled back and forth in a ball of flying claws, slashing, biting and struggling.

"Come on! Tear that sly devil to bits!" Eve yelled encouragingly. This match was rapidly turning into a battle of bloody-minded aggression. Eve wasn't sure whether Sneasel could keep this up longer than Meowth and she didn't want to find out either. If Meowth lost this one -

Somehow Meowth managed to seize the upper hand, trapping Sneasel beneath him with his hind claws digging into his lumbar and arms firmly pinned. With all his other weapons thus occupied Meowth settled for sinking his teeth into his opponent's neck. Sneasel struggled and let out strangled cries of rage and pain.

"Try to get free, Sneasel!" Asma yelled redundantly.

"Snea-arg," he snarled. Ice Shards formed above them and stabbed down into Meowth's back, the sudden sharp pain forcing him to momentarily loosen his grip. The two pokémon slowly retreated to their own sides of the field. Oh, boy. Another stalemate. Although … I'll bet my Meowth's got more vinegar.

"Your meowth's like a furry blender, it's pretty awesome," Asma called.

"Thank you, girl," Eve called back. "I have to admit, your sneasel's a tough one."

"Thank you girl," Asma said, doffing her hat with surprising elegance for a teenager. "He's tough enough to beat you! Double Team, go!"

Sneasel's Double Team was a pack of a dozen copies deployed in a neat semi-circle. An unsubtle smirk appeared on Eve's face. "We can play that game better. Double Team!"

Meowth's Double Team clowder was faster, realer, arranged not in a regular formation but in a deliberately confusing swarm. A furious mêlée broke out with over two dozen dark shapes tearing in to one another. Eve quickly lost sight of the real Meowth in the chaos. Double Teams sporadically vanished like flickering shadows. One by one the sneasel copies disappeared but for some reason the meowth clowder was undiminished.

One of the cats slunk discreetly at the edge of the field. There's my sneaky bastard. A couple of Double Teams split off him, and he dived back into the fray. That's how he managed it – hold on, that's two tricks he's thought up now. Really ought to have a word with him about that -

"Find the real one, you can do it! Ice Shard, again!"

Sodding concentrate, Eve! A flurry of Ice Shards ripped through the middle of the field, destroying meowth and sneasel copies alike. One of them yowled, staggering under the impact; the entire clowder instantly vanished.

"Arrgh!" Eve yelled in frustration.

"Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch," Asma said sympathetically as Meowth slipped off his feet, groaning.

"Hey! You alright, cat?" Eve called.

[Yeah, yeah, boss. I'm fine,] he said, pulling himself back to his feet. [Just caught me sharp.]

There were still remnants of Sneasel's Double Team on the field. For a brief moment Eve considered having Meowth repeat his Double Team – Hmm, no, not aggressive enough.

"Water Pulse! In fact," Eve ordered, "make it a barrage and close in!"

The first Water Pulse smashed down without hitting anything, splattering a fat wet V across the concrete. Hardly a second later another Water Pulse flattened a Double Team followed by another and another. Water fountained up in sheets, twisted into weird shapes by the competing pressure-waves of the bursting Pulses. What was left of Sneasel's Double Team vanished in the onslaught. Sneasel dodged around the Water Pulses with determined focus. Blasts of spray spontaneously froze around him, shattering delicately on the concrete or standing like abstract ice sculptures. He dodged beneath a rearing wave that froze into a perfect moment in time only to be immediately annihilated by a rogue pressure-wave.

"Come on, bring it back with Metal Claw!" Asma ordered.

Sneasel seemed to have trouble focusing, darting in completely the wrong direction before realising what he was doing and charging Meowth. Eve opened her mouth to give an order – too late and unnecessary – Sneasel whipped a Metal Claw at him, Meowth ducked under the attack and Slashed back with an uppercut.

Blood droplets flew, twinkling in the sun. Sneasel staggered, an unfocused, confused look on his face.

"Come on, Sneasel, I know you can do it! Asma yelled. "Sneasel!"

Meowth paced back and forth, anxious to unsheath his claws again, his tail lashing pugnaciously.

"Snea," Sneasel said thickly. He dropped heavily to one knee.

"Sneasel is unable to battle!" the referee ruled. "Meowth wins!"

"Oh, darn it. Come on back, Sneasel," Asma said resignedly.

"Whew," Eve said lightly, and giggled. Now there was a lull in the battle the jitters were rising again. The balance of power was in her favour, just about. She looked up into the stands, searched for a moment, and spotted Josh watching the battle with a thoughtful expression. She raised a fist in defiance again, rather more seriously this time. He half-smiled at her, not looking at all worried.

[Give him a kiss after,] Meowth said, contemplating his claws.

"Shut up, cat."

"Hey, Joy," Asma called, tossing a Great Ball up and down. "I gotcha no-ow! Let's go!" she flung the Ball at the middle of the field. "Hitmonchan!"

"Huh? Alright, fine," Eve said, recalling Meowth. "Lyra, you have the honour!"

As soon as she materialised Lyra buzzed up and out of Hitmonchan's reach. He guarded himself warily, never taking his eyes off her.

"But … what? Ledian? But, I thought …" Asma stammered like she'd been hit by Thunder Wave.

"Well, sure, why not?" Eve said, baffled.

"But, I thought you'd have a chansey … oh, bollocks."

"Yes, bollocks!" Eve barked. "Bollocks is the word! Lyra, Air Cutter!"

With a deft flick of her wings Lyra attacked; Hitmonchan hardly slipped aside before he was smashed off his feet in a cloud of dust.

"Uh, hit it with Close Combat!" Asma yelled desperately. Her hitmonchan earnestly essayed a leap and a swipe, but Lyra simply backed away, tracked his trajectory, and slammed down a third Air Cutter.

"Wait!" Asma shouted. "Stop. I admit defeat."

"Are you sure?" the referee asked.

"Yes. I forfeit."

"Ok, then. Asma Jameel has forfeit the battle! Evelina Joy is the winner!" he announced.

It took a moment for the words to sink in. Her fists slowly unballed. She forfeit. Eve giggled with relief and rubbed her eyes. The moment wasn't nearly as satisfying as fighting a battle to the absolute end, but – well, it was still a victory, fair and square.

[I reckon the charm worked, huh, Eve?] Lyra said, trying to land on her head.

"Hey, get off," Eve laughed, shoving her away. "You're too big for that since you evolved."

[I wanted to fight for this one. A clean sweep win!]

"Sixteen points – it's a good result for the Heats, Lyra."

[Will it be enough?]

People were leaving the stands now that the battle was over. Eve hung around her trainer's box while she looked for Josh. Lyra alighted next to her, folding her wings away with a snap. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Josh was one of the last to descend, behind a couple of reporters tapping at their tablets. He was still cradling little Megaera in the crook of one arm, lovingly feeding her from a bottle half-full of yellow juice. You could almost see the pastel pink bubbles.

Eve collapsed into a gale of laughter.

"What?" Josh protested, aggrieved.

"Y-you should have said, I'd have thrown you a shower!" Eve teased. He made a contemptuous gesture at her with the bottle.

"Look out boys, there's a new yummy mummy in the Sunshine City!" she giggled.

Josh waited stoically for her giggle fit to die down. "Finished yet?"

"For now," she said coyly.

"You fought a good battle," Josh said as they made their way from Court 2.

"I fought a lucky battle," Eve countered. "Nothing to do now but wait for the result, sweetling."

Ten thousand people were crowded into Bywater Amphitheatre again; this time, for the announcement of the quarter finalists. More than seventy Tigerlilies were standing in front of an empty podium and blank scoreboard. The occasional camera flash flickered from the stands. Whitney was in the front row again, fidgeting and chatting animatedly, like an athletic princess surrounded by her equally restless ladies-in-waiting. They look as fidgety as I feel, Eve thought. She checked the time on her phone, yet again. The wait was becoming intolerable.

The big scoreboard above the podium was blank, idling, blazoned only with the bold orange flower logo of the Tourney. Not, unfortunately, with the names of the quarter finalists. Even the journalists had run out of notes to take – one of the press photographers in the second row was idly taking extra photos.

Josh resettled his cloche on his head for the umpteenth time, trying to hide more of his face beneath the bell brim. He glanced surreptitiously at the incessant photographer.

"Shall we just slip off after the announcement?" Eve said quietly.

"Thanks," he answered tersely. "Sorry I didn't win yesterday," he continued, feminising his voice somewhat.

Eve squeezed his hand briefly. "Stop apologising or I'll have to hurt you, sweetling."

About ten minutes later Victoria Pemberton took the podium to a round of sincere applause. In that moment Eve instantly forgave the Imperial Champion for the wait. She raised her hands for quiet, a patrician smile on her face.

"I can scarcely believe that it was a mere three days ago that I last stood here, tasting the anticipation of a new tournament. Girls, you do not disappoint. In the three days since you have brought hour after hour of fierce, determined, passionate battles to Bywater Courts – the like of which would hardly have been imagined when I first took up the mantle of pokémon trainer. Today, you fierce, passionate Tigerlilies will be pruned to just sixteen blooms! For those sixteen, the fiercest battles await. But I will not keep you waiting any longer!"

The big scoreboard blinked, the Tourney logo disappearing, replaced with two columns of eight smaller logos, like bullet points. Ahhh, this is it! Eve's heart promptly skipped a beat or three; she focused ferociously on the scoreboard, mouth half-open.

"These trainers will be progressing from the Heats to the Quarter Finals -"

Laura Winters and Georgia Lovelace

Bonnie Blackwood and Ailsa Craig

Casey Lynwood and Morgan Harwich

Libby Berkowicz and Emily Warbeck

Tabitha Cheesewright and Rowan Morrison

Evelina Joy -

"Yes!" Eve roared, pumping her fist savagely. Yells and whoops of jubilation rang in her ears, along with a few despondent shouts and disappointed tears.

Evelina Joy and Melissa Evans

I made it! She grabbed Josh round the neck and hugged him tight. She realised she was squeeing incoherently, and didn't care.

"Alright, alright, stop trying to throttle me!" Josh protested. Eve let him go, reluctantly.

"I'm pleased now," she said.

"Really," Josh said. "Eye eye, Lovelace at five."

Georgia Lovelace sidled up with absurd conspicuousness. "Evelina? And Melissa Evans, right?"

"What gave me away," Eve said sardonically, tugging at her hair and smiling.

"Congratulations, you made the cut!" Lovelace said cheerfully. "Laura and me, we're getting the quarter finalists together tomorrow, 'cause it's the rest day. You guys game?"

"Yeah, sounds good, we'll be there!" Eve answered, hardly thinking about it.

Josh didn't say anything while they exchanged phone numbers. When Lovelace moved on, he took a very deliberate breath. "In hindsight, not one of your most brilliant ideas, I think."

Through the happy victory-haze Eve suddenly realised that a night out as Melissa would also mean a night of constantly keeping his guard up. "… oops. Uh. Well, it would be more suspicious if I showed up without you, right?" she said lamely.

"Well, how could I deny the Sunshine City another yummy mummy," he said drily.

"Sweetling."

"Yes?"

"We're in the Quarter Finals!"

"Yes, Eevee."

Along Brightwater Mile, the electric night was brighter than the day. Brightwater used to be a trade artery in the Grand Trunk canal system, linking Goldenrod City to towns in the east – Cherrygrove, Blackthorn, and Mulberry. Now it was the heart of the city's eccentric culinary scene. The light from hundreds of lampposts, restaurant frontages, plasma billboards and neon signage reflected scintillantly off the waters of the canal. The narrow streets on either side were crowded with the odd denizens of the Mile, the assorted tourists, hipsterish nightclubbers and food connoisseurs. Flashily-decalled food trucks were parked up in almost every available space, selling cuisines from around the world: Olivine mussels, stir-fried chestnuts, baklava, panipura, hóngdòutāng. A multitude of equally endecalled narrowboats lined the towpath. Most of them were the riverine equivalent of the food truck, converted into floating bars and canal pubs.

Eve cheerily wove her way down the Mile, sharing a long skewer of fried crickets with Lyra. She watched with mild interest as four officers struggled to arrest an especially belligerent drunk. Now … where's the Sunshine Pavillion? she thought, checking Lovelace's instructions on her phone.

"I still don't like this" Josh said as Melissa.

"Will you relax?" Eve said. "You're like, the least interesting sight on this street."

"You have a leg between your teeth," he replied sourly.

"Stop scowling. It's not a good look on Melissa."

"This was your idea."

"Sweetling," she warned him, putting a little iron into her tone.

The Sunshine Pavillion was moored further down the towpath. The proprieter had crammed a few tables onto his pitch, which were forming the focus of the narrowboat's customers. Some of the Tigerlilies were there, Sister Ginnie and her partner obvious in their black habits.

"Oh, heyy, hey again Eve!" Ginnie trilled. "And, Melissa, right? Oh, this is my buddy Mara."

Mara didn't really say 'hi' so much as vaguely nod and smile while avoiding eye contact. There was a somewhat anaemic, translucent quality to the girl, like someone had painted her in watercolours. An irate-looking murkrow perched on her shoulder, feathers all fluffed up.

The other two Tigerlilies were both teenagers, about sixteen or so. One of them wore a Girl Guide's neckerchief; the other was a Dragon Tamer, red cloaked, with a juvenile dratini coiled around her arm.

"How betide ye, Eve? I'm Bonnie," the Guide said. "From Frazerburgh. The dragon girl's my battle partner."

"Aye, aye. Ailsa Craig, from Frazerburgh too," the Dragon Tamer said, tickling her dratini under the chin. "Now. Here's a question – what are a couple of nuns doing out on Brightwater Mile at night? Sounds like there should be something scandalous in that," she jested.

"We're Municipal Sisters, we're allowed to go out! Actually, we kinda have to," Ginnie mused. "We're still forbidden to drink, mind."

"Well, I want a drink," Eve told Josh as an aside. He shrugged shallowly. Eve hopped down onto the deck of the Sunshine Pavillion – just wide enough for a row of patrons to stand at the bar – and ordered a couple of glasses of merlot. Is a glass still a glass when it's made of plastic? she wondered.

With a glass in each hand, Eve turned round and came face-to-face with a large pair of tits.

"Um … hi?" Eve said.

"Cute, aren't they?" said Georgia Lovelace. She was standing up on the edge of the towpath.

"Um, yeah, I suppose so." Eve pulled herself together and jumped back onto the street.

"Yours are pretty pretty, too," Lovelace continued relentlessly. "Hi again, Melissa!"

Eve recognised the expression Josh very carefully wasn't displaying. "Don't you say a word," she warned.

Lovelace was as talkative as Winters was quiet, eagerly engaging with all the other Tigerlilies, charming them with her Unovan accent. Ten of the quarter finalists were there, all told: Lovelace and Winters, Sister Ginnie and Mara, Bonnie Blackwood and the Dragon Tamer Ailsa Craig. The last two Tigerlilies appeared about half an hour after Eve and Josh. Eve sort-of remembered Emily Warbeck, dirty blonde with a squint in one eye, dressed in a crisp white blazer. She liked Warbeck's partner. Libby Berkowicz was delightfully, distractingly eccentric – like the parody of a film noir character, with her bright gold-blonde hair and scarlet dress, constantly wreathed in a grey haze of cigarette smoke.

"Why the white coat, by the way?" Bonnie asked Warbeck.

"Because she's a freak," Berkowicz immediately answered.

"Some people would say 'gifted' or 'different'," Warbeck said mildly.

"What's the difference?"

"It's my school uniform," Warbeck explained to Bonnie, apparently brushing that off.

"Oh, which school?" Lovelace asked.

"Saffron City Gym."

"A gifted school," Berkowicz said pointedly, taking a drag on her cigarette.

Warbeck made a snatching gesture at the air – the cigarette detatched itself from Berkowicz's lips mid-puff and flew to Warbeck's hand. She examined it critically for a moment, then tossed it over her shoulder into the canal.

"Whoops," she said.

"Ah, you're a psychic!" Ailsa exclaimed redundantly. There was a burst of appreciative chatter, Warbeck giggling amiably while Berkowicz lit another cigarette.

"How do psychic powers, like, work? I've always wondered," Lovelace said.

"Hmm, you probably knew you have to be born with them. Psychics aren't as rare as you might think, though. It's quite common for people to not realise they have latent Potential. Write off a short-period premonition as intuition, that kind of thing …"

Eve glanced sidelong at Josh, apparently shyly listening to the conversation. He hadn't said a word since they'd arrived, letting the bigger personalities dominate the centre of attention. He'd hardly touched his wine, either.

"- um, it's hard to describe what Manifesting feels like. It's, it's like dreaming – no, it's like … making your imagination real, but. You're meditating …" she trailed off helplessly.

"Where do gestures come in to it?" Josh unexpectedly piped up.

"Aha, well," Warbeck said, giggling, "strictly speaking only the mind is needed to Manifest. The somatic components … they're props, really, to help focus the imagination. Every school has its own somatic tradition -"

"It's all rather mystical, really," Berkowicz broke in dreamily.

There was an awkward silence.

"So. Er …" Bonnie said. "I cannae quite believe we've made it to the Quarter Finals."

"Official Tigerlilies now," Ailsa added. Her dratini keened in agreement.

"Aye, aye, aye. Are ye excited, Libby?"

Berkowicz exhaled a plume of smoke. "Oh, yes, I've been dreaming of this moment since I was a little girl." She paused to let that sarky comment sink in. "I'm in it for the gifted girl."

Warbeck just laughed indulgently, as if she had said something adorably precocious. "She's cranky without her vodka. You stay put, I'll get you a drink."

" … she's my freak," Berkowicz said defensively.

"Me and Laura, we've been dreaming of this moment since last year," Lovelace said. The others gave her a questioning look. "We were Tigerlilies last year too."

"Whaaat, I don't remember that!" Ginnie blurted out. "How'd you do?"

"We got to the finals," Lovelace said, smirking.

"And this time we're gonna win," Winters put in resolutely.

Eve really couldn't help herself. She couldn't let Winters' adamant tone stand unchallenged, nor Lovelace's confident smirk. "Wrong! The next Tigerlily Champion will be a Cherrygrove City girl!"

Lovelace's smirk deepened slightly. "I'm not, uh, sure your lineage is like, applicable here?" she said.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"No offence, but your family doesn't exactly have a proud tradition of turning out great pokémon trainers," Winters replied brusquely.

"Is that so," Eve said coldly. There was a subtle change in the atmosphere. Smiles became decidedly fixed.

"- being a nurse is ok and all, but it's really domestic," Lovelace commented. "A ton of feminist glory in that."

"I can't think of any elite Joys, I suppose," Warbeck said carefully.

"There's always a first time," Eve growled, though she was looking at Lovelace. "My predecessors are no reason why I can't beat you."

"Well, we're better than you," Winters said bluntly. "Better tactics, better teams -"

Josh laid a steadying hand on Eve's arm before she could rebut. "Nice try, Winters. You won't get tactical information that way."

"Shut up Mel, no-one talks to me like that!" Eve snapped, refusing to be pacified. "I – mnphf!"

Her nascent tirade was abruptly cut short by Josh's hand deftly placed over her mouth. "Excuse us!" he said brightly, towing her – too shocked to fight him – well out of earshot.

"Eevee -" he started, letting her go. He shut you up! He bloody well shut you up!

"This had better be good," she growled.

"All that's just a tactic, you know," he said, subtly nodding at Lovelace and Winters.

"I don't bloody care!"

"Will you listen? What's going to make your point better, breathing fire now or crushing them in battle?"

"Why can't I have both?" Eve said stubbornly.

"Eevee," Josh said with glacial patience, "if they want to play games, then play that game better. Let them think you're just a mediocre trainer with a hot temper, and give nothing away."

Eve scowled at him, but said nothing. That made perfect sense, damnit. "You're a cunning little bastard, at least."

"Don't you compare me to that cat," Josh retaliated. She wasn't sure whether that was a joke or not.

Eve drained her glass, and silently reminded herself that Josh was on her side. "Behave," she said diplomatically.

In the very earliest hours of the morning, a freshly-showered Eve yawned hugely and tied her hair back. Josh's Pokégear radio was on – it was her turn to choose the station. Probably Lovelace and Winters are gonna be the Tigerlilies to beat, she thought muzzily. Six Gym Badges between them, finalists last year … maybe that should make her feel nervous – it put Josh on guard at least – but instead it simply made her more eager to beat them.

Eve pushed her hands into the pouch of her hoodie dress and yawned again, feeling entirely ready for bed. Actually she was beginning to think she'd had one too many glasses of wine on the Mile tonight. Pineco was sitting quietly out of the way, completely devoid of ablative armour for the first time since she'd caught her. She seemed to like hanging around outside the Ball, just to do nothing, apparently.

"Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun,

Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around."

Josh was standing in front of the open window, gazing out west.

"Whatcha doing, Mel?" Eve asked curiously.

"… can you feel it?" he said cryptically.

"What?"

"The sea."

"I don't understand, sweetling."

"Never mind … just preoccupied," he said unhelpfully.

"Ready for bed?" she asked, deciding she felt too tipsy to figure all that out.

"Yeah, I suppose so. For the record, you're not putting me through something like that again -"

A bright light suddenly glimmered off Josh's glasses. There was no mistaking that glow.

Pineco was starting to evolve. She glowed steadily without metamorphosing. For a moment Eve worried that something was wrong – then Pineco swelled into a knurled sphere. Four stubby siphons extruded from the waist.

The new-evolved Forretress was still small for her species, hardly bigger than she'd been as a pineco. She didn't react to her transformation, staring blankly off into space.

"Are you ok?" Eve asked her. Her body language was completely inscrutable. Suddenly, she slammed her shell closed with a clang, and sat there silent, like a giant steel oak gall.

"What was that about?" Josh said from the top bunk.

"I think she needs time to adjust," she replied. Evolution seemed to have come as a bit of a shock. Eve wasn't sure why she'd evolved now; Pineco – Forretress – had been eating a rich diet, but she didn't think it was that rich.

Eve picked a leaflet off her bunk and tossed it to the floor before getting in. It landed face up, displaying the fixtures for the Quarter Finals to the ceiling: