Rosa's POV:

There is nothing nearly as satisfying to Armstrong as smacking around his opponents with style and fearsome strength.

"Quick! Armstrong! Get his Lillipup with Counter!"

With pleasure, he states, taking Lillipup's attack and doubling the power, effectively throwing him across the battle field.

"Nice work. Finish him off with Quick Attack!"

Without a lot of effort, Muse, Armstrong and I have taken on and defeated one of Cheren's best students, a scrappy-looking boy called Pedro. From the back end of the field, said Gym Leader watches with eyes that reveal nothing. In spite of his cool demeanor, he's fidgety, and occasionally he tugs at his tie, particularly when Pedro takes a tough hit. I sense that the mistakes that Pedro makes bother him. He doesn't like that one of his underlings isn't doing his best.

Analyzing this observation, I notice that he's a perfectionist. Maybe I can use this to my advantage.

Pedro, after being handed a nasty defeat by Armstrong, gives a sigh and kicks at the ground. "Well, darn. You're pretty good," he says. By the sound of his voice, he is on the cusp of puberty—maybe twelve years old? Before I can thank him for the battle, he points at the next field, where a slim, dark-eyed girl who bears startling (if a much cleaner and sleeker) resemblance to him stands waiting. They're definitely siblings. "That's Silena over there. Beat her and you can battle Cheren." He sprints off the field.

"I sense he drinks a lot of Red Tauros," I mutter to my Pokémon. Muse gives me a confused look. Armstrong, being too high and mighty for such expressions, merely rolls his eyes. It's doubtful as to whether either of them know about the energy drink popular with middle school boys.

Regardless, we make the short trip over to the second arena. Silena doesn't spare a lot of chatter before sending out her own Lillipup.

"These Normal-types, I swear to Arceus," I mutter to myself. "Which of you wants to take this one?"

Muse hops onto the field, her eyes shining. How did I end up with two Pokémon filled with elated senses of bloodlust?

In about two minutes and thirty seconds—the exact amount of time it takes for me to precisely tune my upright bass without my piano—Muse flattens her team. I don't understand how she can take a command as simple as "Water Gun" and turn it into something tactically brutal and efficient, but I'm pleased with it.

As Silena returns her downed Patrat, I hear a low cough from the end of the field. I glance to see Cheren gazing at me expectantly, as if to say, Well? Are you coming or not?

I exchange glances with my Pokémon, who have hard, ambitious eyes, and we cross the fields until we reach the platform that Cheren stands upon. At this close proximity, I can now see that the platform itself is a small battlefield, maybe only thirty feet long and fifteen feet wide. Is this really where I'm going to battle for my first Gym Badge?

"Nice work," he congratulates coolly as I walk up the steps. "Are you prepared?"

"That's what I'm here to find out," I respond.

His mouth twitches a little—I don't suppose he smiles a lot. Then, tugging at his tie in an official manner, he says, "Just as this is your first Gym challenge, this is my first Pokémon battle as a Gym Leader! Let's both do our best and have a battle we can be proud of!"

With that said, he sends out a Patrat.

Armstrong paces forward. I will take this fool, he tells me. I catch Muse shaking her head off to the side, but I merely nod.

I decide to let Armstrong beat the crazy-eyed Pokémon to bits. "Quick Attack," I say, but before he even reaches Patrat, I hear the order for an attack called Detect.

A strange sheen blooms between Patrat and Armstrong, and suddenly Armstrong is thrown back mightily, slamming into the ground and rolling back onto his feet. Dirty battler, he curses. How uncouth.

"It was a fair move," I growl to him.

"Patrat, use Tackle," Cheren orders coolly, and Patrat races toward my Riolu with a defiant look on his little face.

I decide that, once again, patience is a virtue. "Use Counter on it," I breathe. Armstrong's ears prick at the sound, and he lets Patrat tackle him before using the moment to crush the Pokémon into the ground. The move doesn't faze Patrat as much as I'd hoped…perhaps his level is much higher than Armstrong's?

"To have chosen that move…" Cheren states as Patrat clambers to his feet. "I see! You'll be a powerful opponent!"

You mean a girl who's been training Pokémon for twenty-four hours is a powerful opponent? I think, repressing a bark of laughter as Cheren orders Patrat to use an unfamiliar move called "Work Up". Patrat's cheeks glow brightly as he clenches his paws. "Pat, rat! Pat!" Patrat cries, eyes wilder than they were before.

Armstrong makes an odd hissing noise. His aura is flaming red. I caution you to be careful.

"Thanks for the warning. Hit him hard with Quick Attack before we figure out what it does," I say, and Armstrong takes off after him. Another "Detect" attack is ordered, and Riolu is sent skittering across the platform again.

I gasp. "Are you all right?"

I suggest, Miss Rosa, that we use caution in our next attack, he wheezes. I sense that the move "Feint" could be of use when that bastard with psychedelic eyes uses Detect.

I frown. He had asked to learn the move "Feint" just earlier today. But I don't understand the use of it. "Go for it," I say.

Armstrong clambers shakily to his paws and then charges at Patrat, who once again uses Detect. "Uh…Feint!" I cry. With a fierce paw, Armstrong breaks through the barrier and punches Patrat square in the face. Shocked by the change in strategy, Patrat is floored by the hit. This time, he's the one who staggers back onto his feet, clutching at his head painfully.

Cheren growls, "Don't let him take you so early, Patrat. You're better than that."

"Rat!" Patrat declares, nodding in agreement.

I hope to deal him a blow he shall never forget, Armstrong says, his eyes flashing. Nearby, Muse cheers in agreement, watching her new friend with admiration in her eyes.

"Then go get him," I say, feeling myself grin. I feel so lucky to have these two Pokémon who are so willing to work and fight for me, particularly when I'm such an unknowledgeable greenhorn. "Quick Attack!"

Patrat falls soon after this attack, inflating Armstrong's already overinflated ego.

"Hmph. Good work," Cheren mutters, and I'm not sure if he's talking to me or his fallen Patrat. He returns Patrat to his Pokeball. "Lillipup! It's your turn!"

Unlike the other Lillipup I've seen so far, with silly, sweet little expressions, this Lillipup has a hard-eyed look in his eye. He wants to please his Trainer, and he will do it by any means possible. "Armstrong, do you want to keep going?" I ask.

Let Muse take this one, he says tiredly, his voice haggard. I am exhausted. Please excuse me. He walks toward me, and for the first time, he allows me to scoop him into my arms. His weight is similar to that of a three year old child, and I can sense nearly all of this weight is muscle.

I smile and pet his head kindly. "Fair enough. Muse?" I inquire, and she looks at me with a spark in her eye. She's more than ready to show Lillipup what she's made of.

Cheren watches us, and then straightens his tie again. He worries about that silly piece of fabric an awful lot. Simply, he states, "Lillipup, Work Up."

"Muse…" she glances back at me, waiting for an order. I simply hold up my hands. "Do what you need to do, sweetie. You're raring to go."

"Wott!" Muse cries, and she throws herself into a battle with the sort of dedication I throw into playing piano. It's at this moment that I know I'm going to emerge with my first-ever Gym Badge, even if it has cost Armstrong his ability to stand for the time being.

Cheren doesn't seem too surprised that he lost to me. With a quiet, barely-there smile, he walks over to the edge of the platform. "Sit with me a moment," he says. Wondering what he could possibly want with me after Muse curb-stomped his Lillipup (to put it lightly), I follow him and we sit there together. Armstrong, still resting in the curve of my arm, protests at the jostling from my movement. Unharmed, Muse cuddles up to me, high on adrenaline yet.

Cheren leans back and gazes up at the sky, laden with gray clouds and laced here and there with glints of sunlight, and he says, "That battle has made me feel really glad you were my first challenger as a Gym Leader…" Reaching into his pocket, he pulls something out of it and extends this item toward me. With the first note of enthusiasm I've heard him ever use, he declares, "I give you this in honor of the strength you and your Pokémon showed!"

I accept the item. It's a tiny brown and gold rectangle. A lump forms in my throat; I recognize this shape and material, but I don't have the breath to acknowledge my recognition of this item.

Noticing my expression, he gives a light, almost mirthless sort of laugh. "This is your first Gym Badge, the Basic Badge. This is an important milestone, Rosa. With this Badge, Pokémon up to Lv. 20 will obey you, including traded Pokémon."

"Wow," is all I can murmur.

"And I want you to take this, too." He deposits another item into my free hand. This is the disc for a Technical Machine. Continuing in his explanation, Cheren says, "TM83 can teach your Pokémon the move Work Up. When you use Work Up while battling, it raises the user's Attack and Sp. Atk. By the way, TMs can be used as many times as you want!"

"So if I wanted to, I could have all of my Pokémon know this move?" I ask, just to make sure. I know that different regions have different rules concerning these machines, and as a new Trainer, I'm not very clear on Unova's standards just yet.

Cheren nods. "Of course." Looking at me more seriously, he states, "In the Unova region, there are eight Pokémon Gyms and eight Gym Badges. If you're a Trainer, you could collect all of them! That will make it easier to fill the pages of the Pokédex as well."

"I suppose that would help on my journey," I say, stroking Armstrong's head.

I notice that faint, barely-there smile touch Cheren's features once more. Quietly, he states, almost to himself, "Yes, two years ago, Pokédex in hand, I left on a journey with my friends." Glancing at me, he straightens his tie. "Cherish this. Even if you aren't travelling with friends, you certainly are going to meet a lot of people and Pokémon worth your time. It might even challenge and change relationships that already exist in your life." Standing up, he dusts off his jeans, and I follow suit.

"Cheren," I say, catching his attention. "You said earlier that you were expecting someone named Bianca. A blonde Bianca with a floppy green hat and glasses gave me Muse. Is…is that Bianca one of your friends?"

"Yes. And I'm guessing she's lost as always," Cheren retorts, his tone on the borderline of patronizing and affectionate.

I think back on things she's said. It feels like it's been such a long time already since I saw her yesterday afternoon. A light bulb flicks in my mind. White. Ex-Champion White. Whirling, I demand, "Cheren, was the former Champion White one of your friends?"

"Does Bianca go and announce that to just everyone?" Cheren sighs. "Yes. White is a friend of mine."

What a power trio! I think, aghast. How can that many people in one friend group be that powerful? Cheren sighs at my facial expression. "I know. Professors, Gym Leaders, and Champions all being friends. So outlandish."

"I'm…just going to go…and keep training now…" I say, astonished by the thought. "Thanks for the battle!" I add, glancing over my shoulder.

"You're welcome," is all Cheren says.

With Armstrong in my arms and Muse at my heels, I head back toward the school. I pocket the badge for the time being, and I grin. "Guys, we got a badge!" I whisper excitedly.

Yes, exciting. You have a shiny trinket, Armstrong retorts, whacking at me halfheartedly with his paw. And Muse, with all of her chattering, would like to tell you that we have to get more of them.

"Yeah! Of course!" I respond to Muse, high on a mixture of adrenaline and success. "I won't stop you two now!"

Pushing through the doors into the school, I find myself colliding directly with yet another dark-haired individual—and this one is Hugh. It's by the grace of gravity and Arceus that I don't knock him over as well. "Rosa?" he questions, and he steadies me, though I feel as though I've probably almost floored him on accident.

"Hey," I greet, glancing away from his intense, wine-colored eyes. His hands are still on my arms, and their heat drags me back down to earth again. "Are you here to challenge Cheren?"

"I had to show Bianca how to get here," he responds in a bored voice, releasing me to gesture to the afore-mentioned blonde, talking to a freckly little girl with a Pidove. Glancing at Armstrong, his eyes widen. "Where'd you get a Riolu?"

"Floccesy Ranch. According to him, there are others, if you'd like to find one for yourself," I say. "His name is Armstrong."

"Like the last name of that one singer you like?" Hugh asks, seemingly amused.

I nod, unashamed. Nearby, Bianca notices that I'm here and gasps loudly. "Rosa!" she squeals, darting over to me. "Oh my goodness, look at you! You don't really look like a greenhorn anymore! Did you already beat Cheren?" she asks, practically burying me in a plethora of things to respond to.

Sort my thoughts from melodies and emotions, I merely say, "Muse and Armstrong fought very hard for their victory."

"That's perfect!" she squeals before enveloping me in a brief but congratulatory hug, earning a growl of indignation from Armstrong. I barely know Bianca, and she's already treating me like such a good friend. "I'm so happy for you."

"You're not doing too shabby, Rosa," Hugh remarks.

I smile, ducking my head at the barrage of attention. If only I got this much support and encouragement with music, I think wistfully.

The door opens behind me and Cheren enters the school. His eyes widen at the sight of Bianca. Cool expression thawing, he breaks out into a broad grin and cries, "Bianca!"

"Oh Arceus, it's you! Cheren!" she squeals, nearly bulldozing over me to throw herself into his arms. They hug, squeaking things that are utterly incoherent. By no means is Bianca fat, but she is a curvy girl and dwarves her slender friend, though they're about the same height. Hugh catches my eye, and he looks mildly disturbed by the almost out-of-character reunion near us.

They separate, and Cheren straightens his tie as Bianca shoves her glances back up on her nose. In a more sober voice, Cheren says, "I apologize for that. We haven't seen in each other in a few years, not since White took off." He looks between Hugh and me. "Rosa, is he your rival?"

"Friend," I say, but Hugh immediately states the contrary, shooting me a rare, cocky grin. I sigh. "I guess he is my rival, because apparently a friend who trains Pokémon, too, can't possibly be a buddy."

"Cheren is one of my rivals and he's still my best friend," Bianca says, "but if you look closely you'll see that he bristles when I say that."

Sighing, Cheren pushes at his nose as if he has glasses, and then stops himself mid-push. "I have to remind myself to be grateful that White is too busy searching for that idiot so that you two can't gang up on me anymore," he mutters.

Bianca chuckles before turning her attentions to Hugh and me. "Well, anyway, the point is, if you two were friends before, you're still friends. You're not just rivals or just friends; you're both," she says, planting her hands on her hips.

"That sounds real hunky-dory," Hugh mutters, earning a chuckle from me.

Cheren gives him a steady look. After a moment, he says, "Battle me sometime. You seem like a worthwhile challenger." Then he looks at me. "Rosa, do you have an Xtransceiver?"

"Of course." Only every sixteen year old in the Unova does, you know.

He notices the mildly sarcastic look that must have crossed my features, as he rolls his eyes. But then, he asks, "Could we exchange numbers? I'd like to keep in contact with the first person to defeat my Gym."

I nod. As we swap numbers, Bianca exclaims, "Hey! Can I get your number, too?"

It becomes a triangle of number swapping, and it soon becomes a quadrilateral of number swapping when Bianca somehow draws Hugh into it, too. I already have his number—he's really one of my only human friends, so of course I'd have his. After this has occurred, Cheren sighs. "Well, in case we need to tell each other stories about who caught the cutest Pokémon, we have each other's numbers."

"Cheren…did you just make a joke?" Bianca gasps.

Ignoring her comment, Cheren turns to Hugh and me. "Truthfully, I think that you two have great potential, and I will offer you any advice or help that you need on your journeys. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." He turns to walk away.

Bianca begins to follow him before pausing. She declares, "If you two are concerned about your Pokémon, call me. I know all about behaviors and things now!" Without a goodbye, she trots off after her longtime friend.

That leaves Hugh and me alone, aside from an unusually quiet Armstrong and Muse. Hugh watches me with a curious expression as I crouch down to pet Muse's head, and after a moment, he says, "I think this suits you better than music ever will, even if you have probably one of the most beautiful voices I've ever heard." Before I can remark or react to the idea that Hugh likes my singing voice, he turns away and leaves, too.

That was a botched flirtation on his part, Armstrong says to me.

I flick his ear. "He wasn't flirting!" I say defensively, but I don't know if it's incorrect to assume such a thing. Hugh certainly did become very touchy and protective whenever his friends called me cute or hot.

"Wott, osha!" Muse declares, which Armstrong translates as, "That Hugh boy is stinky with hormones!"

"You two are incorrigible," I mutter, standing up. "Come on. Let's go get you two healed up. Then we can figure out where to head next."

Hugh's POV:

After getting wrangled into escorting that clueless Bianca woman around and garbling dumb things at Rosa, I decide that maybe I need to stop for the day and maybe go home for a while. I did leave without a lot of notice. Mom is probably on the verge of hunting me down with a two by four at this point.

I walk toward home. It's drizzling again, and it flattens my hair into my eyes. Fantastic. "Instead of a Qwilfish I'll look like a Deino," I grumble to myself.

"Hey! Hugh!" I turn at the familiar voice. It's one of my friends, a dark-haired, dark-skinned guy named Marcos.

He leaps off the front step of the apartment building he lives in and darts over to me, a fireball in spite of the rain. "What're you doing back here? Your mom said you left on a journey," he says, his tone almost accusatory.

"When did you talk to my mom?" I ask warily.

"This morning. I was getting some people to get out and play basketball, but you were gone. Rosa, too. Her mom said the same things yours did," he says wistfully. Marcos is a self-proclaimed "worshipper of Rosa's legs", and tended to use our friendship solely for the purpose of catching glimpses of them.

I give a wry smile. "Well, she's off on a journey with Pokémon."

Marcos laughs, his voice filled with disbelief. "Yeah, right," he scoffs. "Rosa? The music geek? Did you finally develop a sense of humor, you little shit?"

Ignoring his comments, I reply coolly, "She has a Badge and two Pokémon already. They don't even write fiction this farfetched, Marcos."

He stares at me, his mouth flapping without a single noise passing his lips. Maybe I'd had little faith in Rosa, too, but I guess I never constrained her to being solely a musician like Marcos had—yet I was fairly certain that I also never kept her around just to worship her legs, either. I decide that it's time to head home. Almost more to myself than to Marcos, I say, "She's tough. Rosa is really tough. If she decides that she is able to be a Trainer, she can damned well be a Trainer, and our prior thoughts and ideas about her have to change along with her." I turn back. "See you 'round, Marcos."

"Oh. Um…yeah…see ya," he says, looking at me as though I've sprouted an extra head.

In the same way that Rosa has turned herself into a Trainer in the past day, I, too, have felt my views on her change drastically since she decided that she would become a Trainer, although, at the very heart of it, she's still the same quiet girl with a killer sense of humor and a fantastically warm smile.

A/N: Yo, so I didn't update for three weeks and suddenly the doc manager and editor is totally different? I'm mildly frightened. So I have no idea how this works, and if suddenly my formatting is really messed up, I apologize profusely (I want the other version back). Anyway, so I'm terribly sorry about the slow update. I lost inspiration, started writing on a few other side fics, and also I'm in the process of writing short stories for my creative writing class. Plus...LOTS AND LOTS OF HOMEWORK. YIKES. I feel like I haven't slept in weeks!

So first and foremost, I'd like to apologize to the people who read the last chapter and noticed my dumb error in which I called Steven the Champion of the Johto (or some other region that is not the Hoenn) and quite honestly I meant Lance. Plus, I was referring to the wealth and strength of the dragon clan he's from with his home description. Hehehe. Perhaps I shouldn't ad lib like that anymore.

Also, admiration of Rosa's legs is considered a Unovan pastime. She and White had some fine legs. That was just a generation of women with lovely legs. Like, damn, look at those Unovan legs.

So, in short, I apologize once again for the slow update. And it wasn't too good of one, either. ;A; Nor was it particularly long. Please forgive me. I hope this slow update thing doesn't become a habit, because, man, I feel really guilty!

Please read and review! It's kind of funny, watching you guys pick up on the mistakes I make when I write at 1am on three hours of sleep from the night prior.