A/N: Chapter three up! So what if my few days turned into a week? It's just like I promised, with lots of action. In fact, one might say there's too much. I want to hear what you think of it — what am I doing that doesn't make sense? Where can I improve and what suggestions can you give that you think will make it more engaging?

The feel for the battle was difficult to keep sped-up. I had to go through several (dozen) revisions, but I finally got it to a point where I'm satisfied. I had to do a lot of research on this one, mostly on the little science bit near the middle. It's not much, but it will make you think.

I have the next few chapters mapped out; have had for a long time. I just need to write them out, in full, then you'll be able to read them.

Oh, for future reference, the title of trainer school will be capitalized only when used as a proper noun, referring mainly to the Violet Trainer School. Think of it in the way you would write high school, or university.

I'm going away for a few weeks (not like you'll notice, with my update record), so I wanted to finish this before then. Aren't you glad I did?

Disclaimer: Nothing to update yet.

This chapter is approximately seven pages long, or 2,330 words (not including title). This is a big one, but I'm sure I'll serve up much longer in the future.

Chapter 3: The Unconventional Attack

Right away, Ryan knew that this would be a problem. The first round of the final match was about to go off in the worst way, with Ryan's Marill vs. Karen's Meditite. Not exactly a thrilling scenario, is it? Well, Ryan thought, I'll just have to adjust. He quickly snuck a glance at the referee, to confirm the flag positions.

Paying attention to the referee is sometimes just as important as the match itself. They don't force themselves between combatants like boxing referees do. Trying to stop a pokémon attack in that manner can be a very risky (not to mention stupid) move. Even so, they have to be in control of the match at all times, and they exercised this control through the pokémons' respective trainers. Trainers, likewise, had to keep a constant track on him or her, knowing where their attention is as well as their focus, to react immediately to their signal. The repercussions for not doing so . . . well, let's just say many matches were lost due to a trainer's carelessness.

It was Karen who made the first move.

"Just like we practiced—charge in and don't give them room!" Karen yelled to her fight-type. Ryan grimaced. With a pokémon like Meditite, close combat was the preferred method of engagement. Marill, on the other hand, with its stubby arms and legs, needed some space to gather momentum. Space Ryan intended to gain.

"Give it one-two!" Karen shouted. The Meditite charged in, fists raised. It (Ryan failed to identify the gender) would cover the distance to the Aquamouse in a matter of seconds. When it reached its target, Ryan's Marill would be pounded into the ground, and the match would be over before it really even got started.

For those few precious seconds, Ryan didn't do a thing. He didn't need to.

Marill was prepared.

The views of the combatants is perhaps the most unique and thrilling of views a story could be told in, but for now we must take a step back. Aspiring teenage trainers have their own problems, and while Ryan's were more immediate, for the moment, the opinions of one particular spectator of this match took precedence.

Professor Coy had been sent by the Pokémon League Supervisory Committee, the joint authority (alongside the Champion and the Elite 4) which oversaw League finances and resources allotment. His duty, as a part of this collective whole, was to assess the capabilities of the selected trainer schools' graduates and determine their eligibility for League grants and assistance, both financial and material. It belittled him to say it was why he existed, but distributing pokémon to new trainers was his job.

Five minutes before the match began, Coy arrived at the stadium's presidential box to sit beside his old colleague Prof. Henry Brash. The accommodations weren't glamorous, seeing as the only luxury separating it from the other seats was the comfort of having a roof over your head.

"Glad to see you've decided to come out," Prof. Brash said, more sincere than mocking.

Coy nodded, assuming his seat. From what he had heard, this match was special because it pitted the School's two top students against one another.

Coy looked down into the arena, focusing on the student whom even Brash praised as the best battler the school had produced in all his days as principal. In truth, he didn't hold high hopes about this kid, but if Brash was bragging about him then he must have some potential. Still, Coy had to wonder how much of it was exaggerated.

His friend patted him on the shoulder while resting the drink from his hand onto the table beside him.

"Sit back, relax. I guarantee that you will enjoy this . . . "

And he was right. The match began in a way that surpassed Coy's expectations. He watched in amazement as the Meditite swung, witnessing as the Marill simply rolling to the side.

You heard me. He rolled.

And he continued rolling, picking up speed as he reached Karen's end of the field. Faster, faster he rolled, even as he made the tight turn to come back around.

Meditite had regained its composure from missing earlier. It stood now, facing the onrush of Ryan's little blue Aquamouse Pokémon. The situation from only moments before had completely reversed itself. Prof. Coy was duly, truly impressed.

Impressed, but not quite satisfied.

Karen, at least, seemed to be catching on.

"He's trying to build up its momentum! Intercept it!"

The Meditite had assumed a new stance, with legs spread and arms raised palms-forward, ready to meet the onrush of the water-type head-on.

That's good thinking, but not quite it, Ryan thought, inwardly smiling at how well this was going. She understood that even a Marill can be strong, provided it gains the proper amount of momentum. But Ryan wasn't waiting for momentum—Marill had already built up enough to deliver a hard blow.

He smiled, openly now. Karen was playing right into his hands.

The rollout technique was designed to overwhelm an opponent with a full-frontal assault, but it wasn't Ryan's style to attack head-on. It just wasn't the way he played it, as Karen would soon find out. A person who perfects textbook-case attacks would never be able to outwit him, for they think in such a restricted and straight-forward manner.

"Steady, Meditite!" Karen kept her pokémon on their toes by talking to them, encouraging them. At times it amazed Ryan how different he was from her. Conversely, Ryan never had to issue a command. When the time came, the Marill didn't wait, didn't falter. It had trained this maneuver countless times, and its form was dead-on.

In mid-flight, it unrolled, delivering a powerful roundhouse tail-slam to the stunned Meditite. The oil-filled ball at the tip may be lighter-than-water, but it was massive enough to knock the Meditite off its feet.

"Meditite!" Karen practically yelled its name. The Meditate Pokémon looked winded—its hand clutching its stomach. But it was sitting upright, a less-than optimal outcome.

It was able to endure the tail slam, Ryan thought, a little taken aback. Karen had obviously been working on her pokémons' stamina. It seems that even she understood that attacks were only a part of pokémon battling, and that being able to stand up to them was just as vital to victory as being able to deliver them. If there was one thing he had to give his rival, it was that she covered all the bases. It was what set her apart from the other students.

This was why she was his only worthy opponent.

"Are you ok?" The Meditite nodded, getting slowly to its feet. "Then get back at it! Just get in close, then you can overpower it." Karen had wasted no time. The Meditite was standing now, anxious to continue. She was giving it her usual pep-talk, encouraging it while directing its frustration in a constructive direction. This was nothing unusual. What unnerved Ryan was what was said at the end, when she gave it a grin and a thumbs-up. "Remember, use that special move!"

The Meditite nodded, then turned toward Marill.

Ryan did not like the look in its eye. That kind of determination was hardly normal in a school-trained pokémon.

"Stand your ground, Marill," Ryan said through gritted teeth. He had been preparing that move just for this match, and he was more than disgruntled that it hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. He couldn't pull the same trick twice, so this left the second confrontation strategy—the more frequently used one.

The Meditite charged forward, fist raised to pummel the Aquamouse. Marill responded by releasing a flurry of bubbles, temporarily distorting its vision, and used the diversion to roll to the side. But even so, the Meditite's fist grazed him. The water-type squeaked in pain as it rolled before finally coming to a stop in a kneeling position. Right away, Ryan noticed that it was suffering from minor spasms that inhibited its movement.

Ok, that was definitely not normal.

Ryan glared over at the Meditite, who had its fist raised in the strong-arm pose, a smug look on its face. There was only one move a Meditite could learn that could cause such effects, and it was a rare trait at that. But then, it was so like Karen. He should have expected it.

Thunderpunch.

Ryan frowned. It was time to adopt another strategy.

Prof. Coy was completely absorbed by the spectacle, especially on the Marill's rolling counter. It was a complex maneuver that must have taken weeks to perfect. This little demonstration had piqued his interests. How many more strategies like it did this kid have?

"I told you that you were going to enjoy this," Prof. Brash, who had been sitting beside him, commented. "It was a neat little scheme." He glanced over at Coy. "Too bad it didn't quite work."

Coy nodded, absently, but at the moment he didn't agree to anything. He was in observation mode, a condition his mind set itself into whenever he encountered a situation that intrigued him. It was the same way when he was studying a specimen in a lab.

Sighing, Coy crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair for a more comfortable position. Of course, it was a one-shot deal. It relied solely on the element of surprise, and even then the Marill didn't have the force to pull it off. All the time spent teaching it might as well have been wasted.

He was intrigued, yes, but not entirely pleased.

The true danger behind electricity is amperage, not voltage. A person could survive having a thousand volts of electricity running through his or her body, but it only takes 0.1 amperes to stop their heart. What Marill received was definitely less than 1000 volts, but its resistance was weakened due to its moist skin. The blow was also current-limited so it wasn't lethal, but it went without saying that Marill was shocked by what happened, and in more ways than one.

Marill struggled to stand up, finding his body slightly less than cooperative. The blow had done a real number on his nervous system. Ryan only hoped that he would be able to maintain his balance, because it looked like Karen would soon turn this into a brawl.

"Attack it again! Get in close and knock it back!"

Gee, isn't she predictable?

Every pokémon needs a good brawling strategy. You never know when the two combatants could collide in a tangle of limbs and various other appendage (like vines or tentacles). There are also times when distance simply cannot be gained. Marill's strategy was less than optimal, having only its body and tail for delivering any significant physical blows, so Ryan didn't have many options open to work with.

"Marill." The Aquamouse turned to face him. "Slow it down with your water gun."

It wouldn't be the huge torrent of water like what's shown in the animated television show, but it certainly wasn't something you wanted to get hit by, owing to the fact that it packed as much force as a fire hose.

Marill complied, spitting a significant amount of water at the charging foe, managing to catch the Meditite on the shoulder. The blast must have stung, but the Meditite didn't slow. It continued it charge, fists at level with its waist.

Ryan clinched his teeth. He had seen this move demonstrated before, in an instructional video during Mr. Costello's Battle Coordination class. The Meditite was using the full length of its arms to create room for a thrust. When it was close enough, it would swing those arms forward, the momentum drastically increasing. . . .

"Marill, roll!"

Marril complied, but the Meditite's speed had allowed it to catch up quicker than expected. Even so, it looked like Marill would clear—

A feint!

Ryan looked on as the Meditite's fist connected with Marill's torso in a right hook. The added drive blew Marill off the ground and into the air. He landed in a slump several feet away, and lay there.

After the dust settled, Marill made a visible effort to rise. However, after a few moments of struggling to push himself up, he let himself drop. The referee wasted no time in declaring a decision.

"Marill is unable to battle!" Unwavering, the referee raised her red flag in the direction of Karen. "Round one, finished. By K.O, the first round goes to Meditite!"

Oh well, Ryan thought as he recalled his fallen pokémon. He didn't have that much faith in the Marill anyways. He was loyal, yes, but not very adaptable. Not to mention the fact that he only had three months to work with the little guy. Ryan had given him a shot, and he gave his best in return, but it just wasn't good enough. Raising his head high, he passed the ball to the sideline medical professional, simultaneously pulling the second one out of his pocket.

He looked over at the Meditite, who was beaming at Karen's praise. Or was it from winning the battle? Well, why shouldn't it be happy? It had been able to recognize and anticipate Marill's movements. Was it the pokémon's fighting skill and experience that pulled it through, or had its psychic skills developed to such a degree that its abilities bordered the precognitive?

Ryan glanced down at the center of the field. He didn't care. The source of its power was irrelevant.

It wouldn't last long enough in the next round to test either theory.

White-knuckled, Ryan gripped his second sphere for a throw. This one would not be like the previous. Out of all the pokémon he trained here in the School, this was his best. This was a fighter he could depend on, with strength to back it up.

The ball flew. He would not lose.

"Round Two!"