6 - The Strong and Weak Wills of Women
"Let's go visit the battle facilities," I suggested on a whim. Ned, Leto, and Carol gave each other confounded looks, wondering what their boss was up to.
In truth, I was worried about my proposal. The gym system had been lackluster as of late, and not for the first time. The issues were cyclical. The gyms simply did not register on the radar of the corporate heads. They earned practically no revenue, and many of our more unimaginative pencil-pushers constantly questioned their value. Without attention, the gym system typically falls into neglect and disrepair. Leaders get lazy, their talent slacks, the gym buildings themselves stop receiving proper maintenance, the league becomes flooded with bad and/or gimmicky trainers, the trainer-base becomes disgruntled by poor competition, the fanbase is turned off by the lack of parity, etc. and etc. Only when the whole thing verges on collapse do the officials pay attention, and even then they only do enough to avoid disaster. My proposal was the largest concerted effort to bolster the gyms since they were co-opted into the Pokémon League some sixty years ago.
Now I was questioning whether the effort was worth it. I would have to fight many vested interests to push it through. There were no guarantees that, even if it was smooth sailing, the League or the public would see any significant improvement.
Could I do it? I'm not sure.
Doubt. It's a powerful enemy.
The younger men were chatting casually with each other. Carol stood close by, evidently noticing the growing stress building inside of me. It's like she wants to touch me, comfort me, but professional etiquette kept her hands at bay. The poor thing.
"Let's go to the battle facilities," I repeated. "Aren't they holding training regimes today?"
"They might be," Ned answered.
I needed to take my mind off of the political battle ahead of me. I was thinking visiting the arenas and watching Gym Leaders in action would help relieve some stress and remind me what I was fighting for. Most days of the week Gym Leaders were invited to train at our facilities; hopefully that would be going on today.
The three of us strolled through League HQ. Bright and shiny corporate chambers gave way to dimmer, moldier hallways. Florescent lighting yielded to yellow incandescent bulbs, impressionist paintings to white-and-black photographs of ancient (1960s), famous battles. Between the battle facilities and corporate offices, it was obvious which one had received priority for renovations.
'Good. Leave it that way,' I caught myself thinking.
We were on a third floor corridor stretching two hundred yards long. Along either side bay windows looked out over a series of battle arenas, six on each side. These were used for everything from supplemental tourney sites to tactical safety assessments. Today only four were occupied, and two of those were casual battles between employees.
"Carol, what's going on here?" I asked out of curiosity, motioning to the latter two matches. At first glance, it didn't appear to be the Gym Leader training rounds I was expecting. For one, two of our League officials were lined up as opposition. For another, these appeared to be full-fledged battles.
"Gym Leader qualification assessments."
"Oh, interesting."
Gym Leaders are appointed in a myriad of ways. The position can be inherited from a family member, voted on by the town council, recommended by the regional Gym Leader association, or seized via ritualized battle. The one common denominator, however, was the League's licensing. Every candidate had to be vetted by the Pokemon League before they had the right to distribute badges. This meant an arduous testing regime, culminating in a live battle exam.
"Hmm."
"You look like you're going to ask a lot of questions," she offered.
"You know me so well," I told her. She looked away, as if embarrassed. I pointed to the two middle-aged men in uniform coats. "Are they scaling the score to their opponents?"
"Right, one second." Carol collected herself and brought out a tablet computer. "No, actually, the candidates are facing a strictly regimented opponent. The League officials' Pokémon are pulled from a pool of Pokémon specifically bred and trained for this task."
"So there's no variation. Huh."
In other words, standardized testing. The candidates would have to face a generic team of six Pokémon representing different challenges they're expected to overcome. Even the League official is restricted to a standard set of stratagems and commands. In other words, no curve balls; this would be only a slightly-challenging battle for a full-fledged Gym Leader. On the other hand, that meant this was a pass/fail situation. Moral victories wouldn't be enough, the candidates had to win to earn their position.
"How many battles?"
"It's based on a 5 battle regiment, 4 victories needed to pass."
"I see. And the candidates?"
We were looking out over the first of the two occupied arenas. A man, maybe in his late 20s, was just sending out his first Pokémon.
"He's Victor Monarche, from the Fleureille Region. He's attempting to become Montfougere Town's Gym Leader. He's been known to have a diverse team, but has recently tried to specialize in Dragons. He's 1-0 right now."
I watched the man battle for a few minutes. He had dressed handsomely for the occasion, donning a kingly overcoat with gold trim, tassels, and buttons. His demeanor was a little giddy, although I couldn't hear what he was saying. His only recognizable Pokémon was a Deino, which put up a poor showing against a Rhydon. His other Pokémon were unknown to me, which was a surprise. As a former world champion, I had seen my fair share of the world's Pokémon, not just the 485 species endemic to my native Nihon nation.
What appeared to be two mature Dragon types followed, and were also easily beaten. It seemed to me they were poorly commanded and insufficiently trained for this match. Victor was beside himself, before finally resorting to differently-typed Pokémon. A rock-electric monolithic-thing conducted itself well, taking out four Pokémon on its own before being recalled only half-damaged.
"Eh. He's middle-aged, not too interesting. Why did he come all the way here to qualify? Lumiose, or even Castelia, are much closer to Fleureille." Carol shrugged, as puzzled as I was. Growing bored, I strolled to the second window, with another match in progress. Even at this distance and with the arenas' insulation, I could feel shaking coming from the battle. Something seismic was occurring. Leto was already watching the battle- or rather, he had his eyes fixated upon the candidate.
She was in a simple white summer dress and sandals. Her hair was curiously arranged into two short, spiky pigtails that were propped up at an improbable skyward angle. Her demeanor was calm and stoic, deftly commanding her Pokémon through battle. Not un-pretty; Leto certainly was interested.
"She seems familiar," I said aloud, but mainly for Carol's benefit.
"She should be. You already watched her today," my secretary replied.
"Did I?"
"Yes. You asked for a specific match involving her to download onto your phone."
"Really?! Because I'm drawing a blank."
I trust my secretary to be right. I blame the workload for not being to recall this young woman and where I had seen her today. Young! She can't be older than twenty! She's right in that age group that I'm targeting for the Gym Leader revival project. Revival Project. Nice name, I just made that up. Make a mental note on that. Where was I? Oh yeah.
"I give up. Who is she?" I begged of Carol. She handed her tablet to me while explaining.
"Jasmine Mikan. You know, the same Gym Leader who upset Vito Winstrate. You were going to show that battle to Yarld to make a point."
"Oh! OHHH! Do'h! I did show it, and I think it did make a difference, thanks for finding that vid for me. Ah…" I didn't pay much attention to who it was that actually upset Vito. Even in defeat, the big-shot tourney trainers tend to be more memorable than their underdog opponents. "Why is she here then? Shouldn't she already be a Gym Leader?"
"Read," Carol insisted. I turned my attention to the profile on the computer screen, and began reading and commenting aloud.
"Jasmine Mikan, female, age 18… oh, 18, that's young. That's the minimum age for a Gym Leader, isn't it? Oh I see. She's been the acting Gym Leader of Olivine City for the past three years, with her father as legal and financial custodian of the gym. Her situation was sponsored by a senior Gym Leader, so the League was willing to make an exception concerning her underage status; but now that's she's 18 she wants to take full custody of the Gym Leader title. So that's why she's here. Geeze, that makes the victory over Vito that much more impressive- taking down one of the greatest of Hoenn when she was, what, 16? Mmhmm. Hey, cool, she's a Steel-type specialist, like me.
Thank you." I returned the computer to Carol and my attention to the battle.
Our official was using a Fire-based team, one of the standard challenges to type specialists: pit them against their type disadvantage and see if they could adapt. Currently fighting was an Arcanine. I did not see the candidate's Pokémon.
Arcanine was darting around frenetically, as if attacking or retreating from an invisible opponent. At second glance ,the reason for the shadow-boxing became apparent: furls of earth were being plowed to-and-fro, chasing the Fire-type. A Dig attack. Whatever was pursuing the Arcanine from beneath the surface was big, really BIG, judging by the building's shaking.
"Hope the building doesn't fall on top of us," Ned commented.
"I'd die happy," Leto responded.
"What, she your type?"
"What, you don't think she's beautiful?"
"Nah, kind of plain, kind of vanilla. No boobs. What say you Steven?"
"I am a married man, I am not at liberty to discuss other women's attractiveness."
"Keh." Ned and Leto both waved me down. I noticed Carol flinch at the mention of the "M" word.
Our official yelled something out. Arcanine dashed to a hole that had opened in the earth, breathing a searing stream of fire into the gap. It was a trap. All the ground in a ten yard radius of the hole collapsed, half-burying the fire dog. It struggled to break free, uselessly. The Dig wasn't meant to hit the foe, it was to prepare the ground. Clever. The female candidate shouted, still showing no trace of emotion save for cold, hard determination.
BRUUMBRUUMBRUUMBRUUM!
Woah! I thought the building was shaking before, but now it's rocking and rolling and I'm about to fall off my feet and damn! That's some Earthquake attack! I ended up leaning on the glass for support, steadying myself just in time to watch the Arcanine's health obliterated. A massive Steelix (even larger than usual for its species) emerged from the rubble, roaring mightily in celebration.
"That's win number four for her," Carol stated. "She passed."
The newly-titled Gym Leader finally showed some emotion, or rather, buckets of emotion, as she jumped for joy. Several of her friends rushed onto the field to embrace her and carry her off. It was a little comical for the official to shout after them, forcing the group to reverse course, as if she were driving her friends like a car. The girl and our official conducted final business like that, then the friends set her down so the two opponents could shake hands.
"See guys? This is precisely what I was talking about. Look at this," I gestured happily towards the field while tapping on the wall computer. Statistics from the battle appeared on the screen. "She had 24 KO's to her own 3. 22 of those KO's were done by only two Pokémon, a Steelix and Magneton. I love it. This is what we're investing in. She is just the kind of trainer I want to lead our next generation."
"He's about to give a speech."
"Uhuh."
Leto and Ned exchanged nods.
"Watching that, I feel vindicated. Gym Leaders are not merely a filtering device. They're so much more than that. They're the face of the League. They're our arbitrators, our emergency responders, our muscle, our conciliators, our ambassadors. When the public thinks of the Pokémon League, they think first and foremost about the eight members of each region that they interact with on a daily basis. If we ensure that we recruit the best possible talent, and then give them the tools to succeed, ten years down the road we will be in an incredible- Hey! Where did you guys go?" I flipped around, to find my male audience halfway to the far exit. "Get back here! Listen to my large-hamminess! Argh!"
Face-palm for dramatic pose.
"At least I still have you," I said, facing Carol.
"I have to stay, I'm your secretary," Carol said softly. Her eyes avoided mine. A sudden, flickering thought passed my mind.
"Don't kid yourself. You want to stay," I told her.
"No I…"
I raised my hand to her cheek, barely caressing it. The petite, mousy-haired lady went still, limp. I stepped closer, till I was practically breathing into her bangs.
"You do hope, don't you? For you and me?" I whispered.
"No… No…"
"What if I said there was hope?"
"Truly?" She looked up, glistening, quivering eyes, the unmistakable signs of adoration. Her head melted further into my touch.
"Ms. Valiér, do you love me?" I asked.
"Ye-" and I put my hand up to her lips and stepped away.
"Don't. Don't say it."
I swiveled on one foot and began adjusting the hem of my sleeves. All pretense of intimacy dropped from my voice.
"It's only a crush, an infatuation, caused by my good looks, my money, my domineering personality, and my position of power. It's a false attraction. You're like a Venomoth to the flame, my dear. I am no good for you. I married my wife because she is the only woman I know who can stomach my arrogance and ego. Indeed, she has an ego to rival my own. Contrary to popular opinion, opposites do not attract. Meaningful relationships are built by commonalities- and, to be blunt, and I am willing to be blunt and hurtful, because that will help you get beyond this crush that much faster- you and I are nothing alike. It would be disastrous to even hope for so much as a pity-fuck. Do you understand?"
"Y-y-yes sir."
"I applaud you for keeping your composure through that."
She is fighting back tears, successfully. Her posture is held high, and she is still ready to listen to orders. She must've known, since the moment we met, that her crush would be unrequited. That foreknowledge is helping her get past this painful, but necessary confrontation.
"Now, focus on your duties. Have a good cry tonight, if you need to, take a few days to curse the unfairness of the world and the pitiful, fickle nature of the human heart. Then turn your affection towards one of the numerous desolate males who litter the world, good-hearted but just a tad too cowardly to ask you out. You'll be so much better in the long run. Now, compile a list of all pending candidates for Gym Leader titles and bring it my office. Can you do that?"
"Yes, I think I can." She paused, as if gathering courage. "I just want-"
"Shh!" I silenced her. "If it's not business related, it need not be said. It will just hurt. See you in a few." I waltzed off down the corridor, leaving my secretary a little pile of mush.
Breaking hearts. It was a habit of mine, and rejecting the poor souls had become a carefully scripted procedure. What I did not tell Carol, what I could not say to her, for fear of playing on what lingering strands of attachment she held for me, was this:
I did like her. She was attractive, in her own way. She was a nice girl. And, most importantly for a man, she was into me. It is one of the most enjoyable feelings for my gender, to be admired, to be loved. It's everything in my willpower to not take advantage of the situation, and not allow myself the pleasure of Carol's body. But, sadly, though rightfully, it was not permissible.
That was the vow I took on my wedding to day, to be faithful to one woman and one woman only- that wonderful, immeasurable, frustrating, exciting, preposterous woman with the platinum bangs.
Oh Cynthia, the joys I sacrifice for my love to you.