Chapter 19:
I hadn't wanted it to come down to this. As the battle had gone on, I knew this was going to be inevitable. It takes all my strength to pluck the final Poké Ball from my belt. This hadn't been my choice to make. As with Goodra, I had to do as my Pokémon wanted. I am not one to deny them that.
"As you wish," I whisper to the ball in my hand, "Go, Crobat!"
I swing my arm upwards and throw the Poké Ball as high into the air as I can. High above the battlefield, my Pokémon appears and begins to glide in a circle around the stadium. Daedalus had inspired this by mentioning Crobat's second pair of wings. They were generally used for maintaining long distance flight, not battling. The plan is to adapt to that. By getting it as high as I could, I have given Crobat the flying start it needs. All it has to do now, is stay up there, out of Greninja's range.
I can't escape that Crobat still isn't fully recovered. The health bar on my Battle Gear is starting only just above half filled. Crobat isn't fighting fit which just reaffirms the need to stay out of Greninja's reach.
"For someone called Psycho you are big on sentiment," Thomas laughs, "Sentiment doesn't win tournaments! Froggo, Water Shuriken!"
"Toxic!" I shout into the sky so Crobat hears me.
Greninja adjusts its position and a number of stars appear in its grip. With incredible speed, Greninja darts forward and throws the stars into the air. One after the other, they shoot harmlessly past Crobat's rear end and fade into the atmosphere. Greninja immediately turns its attention to the lumps of purple sludge raining down from above. It has no difficulty dodging them all, but finds itself having to navigate the battlefield awkwardly.
Hitting Greninja had never been the priority. The strategy of avoidance was one I had decided upon with Crobat the previous evening. Whatever opponent we were to face today, we would have used this tactic. All Crobat can do is try to avoid attacks and rain poisonous sludge down on the battlefield, restricting where the opponent can move and hopefully force it to start taking damage despite being unable to use Crobat's main attacking moves.
Greninja dances over the toxic puddles to a clear patch of the battlefield as Crobat continues to circle. A ring of poison surrounds Greninja. Sadly, Greninja is the kind of Pokémon that will have very little difficulty moving due to how agile it is.
"Flight pattern mapped," Thomas says as he and his Greninja hold their heads up to watch Crobat, "Froggo, knock it out of the sky with Ice Beam!"
I bite my lip. I had hoped it would take longer for him to catch on. Crobat's flight is predictable. Without the use of its main wings, the complex manoeuvres that normally make Crobat so hard to hit are near impossible.
Greninja picks its spot and fires a thin blue beam into the sky. Crobat flies straight into the path of the attack and is thrown off course. I spot a small chunk of ice clinging to a wing, but it makes no difference. This was going to be the decisive blow either way. Crobat flails about trying to regain its flight but its injured wing causes too much discomfort.
In a brief and unusual moment, Crobat manages to make eye contact with me. There is a sudden understanding between us. I know what it's planning and it knows that I approve. Crobat tucks its wings in to the side and begins to plummet.
"Brave Bird!" I shout just to confirm I know what is happening.
It is a long shot. Greninja is still in good enough condition that it should be able to dodge an attack launched from such a great distance. However, if the attack can connect, that distance will translate into some amazing power. Crobat twists to direct itself. Greninja watches on with a look of horror and tries to jump at the last second in hopes of catching Crobat off guard. Crobat had pulled up, seemingly expecting this, and slams straight into Greninja's chest.
The two Pokémon fly across the battlefield and crash to ground. The momentum keeps them going and they skid to a halt in a puddle of the toxic sludge from earlier. The stadium falls silent in anticipation. Neither Pokémon move. The poison will be seeping into Greninja now. I look to my Battle Gear quickly. Two empty health bars.
"Both Crobat and Greninja are unable to battle!" the referee declares, "By Official Pokémon League Battle Regulations ruling 17B with regards to recoil damage, the winner is Holly Wexler!"
I can't quite believe it. Against all odds, I forced a tie with Thomas and, through a ruling I am only vaguely familiar with, I have won. I look across the battlefield as the crowd goes wild, some celebrating my victory while others expressing their continuing dislike of me. Thomas looks just as shocked as I am. He almost seems on the verge of losing it until he closes his eyes and calmly claps.
Then, Thomas' eyes shoot open. He yanks the Battle Gear from his arm and holds it away from his wrist before looking to me.
"Take it off!" he shouts.
It takes a moment to register what he means. I reach for my wrist, but, as I do, I feel weaker. I start breathing heavily. I am suddenly exhausted. I slowly look up from my wrist back to Thomas. He shakes his head. The referee looks at us in bewilderment.
With our Pokémon returned to their Poké Balls, we walk forward to meet in the middle of the ruined battlefield. Thomas offers a handshake. I raise my hand to take it only to realise it is bandaged up and not a good idea for him to grip it. I hold out my other hand and he takes it.
"Congratulations Psycho," he says.
"Thanks, you did…" I begin, but he cuts me off.
"We need to talk," Thomas says quietly enough that I can hear but presumably no one else can.
"About what?" I ask.
Thomas twists his hand and extends a finger to tap on the Battle Gear still on my wrist. I nod in understanding and we part. It is obvious that he doesn't mean to talk out here. As I make my way back to the tunnel, I am intercepted by a woman with a microphone and a man carrying a TV camera.
"Congratulations Holly, that was a truly amazing battle, how does it feel to be in the final?" the woman asks and then sticks the microphone in front of my face.
"I… Uh," I stutter, struggling for words and breath, "It hasn't really registered yet. I'm sure it'll feel great later, but I'm just tired at the moment."
"Your relationship with your Goodra is sure to be a big talking point; why didn't it listen to you before and just what did you do to regain its trust?" the woman asks.
"This seems rather personal…" I say awkwardly.
"Of course it is, you're one of the best trainers in the world. The public want to know everything they can about you," the woman says with a menacing smile.
I do what I can to try and dodge or politely decline the questions. I indulge a couple of less personal ones just so I can be allowed to leave. I don't know what sort of quality answers I give as I'm so exhausted. Thomas is waiting for me in the tunnel. He seemingly had less difficulty with the press or there was less interest in him as he lost.
As I catch up to him, he sets off walking deeper into the tunnel. I follow him until he looks around and decides to stop again. There is no one else around. This is where we will be talking it seems.
"Idiot!" Thomas shouts as he turns to face me.
"What?" I ask, taken aback a little.
"Why did you do that?" he asks.
"Do what?"
"Win," he says bluntly, "You were about to surrender at one point, I could see it in you. It was the right thing to do. Why didn't you?"
"What? I'm sorry for wanting to win, but…" I am once again cut off.
"I was trying to protect you out there," Thomas says.
"Protect me?"
"You said it yourself yesterday. I heard about what happened when you went to find Rhianne. There's something going on here. It's pretty obvious, even I've caught on. Whatever it is, it's going to all kick off with the final. I was trying to stop you reaching the final to protect you," Thomas explains.
"I don't need protecting, certainly not like that," I retort.
"You clearly do," he says, "You're predictable, sentimental and you couldn't even control one of your Pokémon. You didn't deserve to win today, you can't deny that, and you won't win the final."
I want to argue, but the words catch in my throat. In truth, I can't argue with him. I didn't deserve to win. He was the far better trainer. I got lucky that Goodra's rampage was taken out on half of his team. I swallow any argument I was going to attempt and try calming myself.
"Anyway, what did you want to say about the Battle Gears?" I ask.
"Whatever is going on has something to do with them," Thomas says, "They're pretty dodgy. I disassembled mine. Now, I'm not great with this sort of stuff but some of the things I found in there clearly have nothing to do with what we use them for."
"You don't mean…" I begin.
"You've noticed, haven't you?" he asks, "After every battle, you feel weaker and tired. You and Robin have both passed out after battle with these things on. I'm pretty sure they're draining our strength. I don't know why, but it can't be good."
"You took yours off, you're fine," I say.
Thomas nods. It all seems to make sense and fit together. Now I am worried about what will happen when I face either Mark or Flourette in the final battle. In hindsight, I feel like I should have let Thomas win.
"What happens now?" I ask.
"We just have to prepare for what's coming, whatever it is," Thomas says.
Nothing more is said. We make our way to meet the others and head back to the hotel. I am greeted with a number of congratulations from the eliminated contestants, mostly Robin and Elin. Daedalus gives me a brief passing comment. I want to talk to him properly, but I know it'll be impossible with other people around. I will just have to control my thoughts and bide my time until we get a chance in private.
On the journey back, I tell Robin and Elin what Thomas told me about the Battle Gears as discretely as I can. Elin immediately tears the Battle Gear from his wrist and treats it like it has been infected with the plague. This draws a little unwanted attention from the others on the bus, but no one seems to ask questions.
By the time we get back to the hotel, it seems like I am going to have to talk with Daedalus sooner rather than later. I am struggling to control my inner rabid-teenage-girl. I decide to split off from the others, saying that I'm tired after my battle and want to rest. People are a little upset by my decision to go off on my own but understand.
I take a longer route through the hotel than I normally would. I want to give Daedalus time to actually get to his room before I turn up there. Eventually, I reach the room, remembering where it was after my late night wandering earlier in the week. I pause and then knock.
"Holly? Come in," Daedalus calls from inside the room.
I push the door open and slip inside before carefully closing it behind me. Daedalus is sat on the corner of his bed. He slips a bookmark into the book in his hand and closes it.
"How did you know it was me?" I ask, "You don't strike me as the kind of person who would want other people to know a girl might be visiting you."
"You haven't taken your eyes off me all day," Daedalus says and gets off his bed to put his book on the bedside table, "It was inevitable you were going to come to me."
"I'm sorry I didn't do as you wanted," I say quietly, "I didn't make an example of him, I didn't listen to your advice, I didn't listen to my dad's advice and I made a fool of myself."
"No," Daedalus says and places a hand on my shoulder, "Your victory today was an advert for the bonds between trainer and Pokémon. You showed that if a person truly cares for their Pokémon then they can overcome any challenge. Yes, Thomas probably deserved to win, but you still won."
I disagree. I want to argue with what Daedalus has said and yet his words have comforted and reassured me. I don't understand. I can't control myself. I throw myself at him, flinging my arms around him.
"I'm sorry… I just…" I try to say.
Daedalus pauses before placing a comforting hand on my back.
"Since last night," I begin, "I can't stop thinking about you, but I don't understand how I feel."
"I understand," Daedalus says calmly, "It is all so sudden. It's so confusing for us both. We don't really know each other yet, but we're having these feelings. Perhaps we should try to get to know each other before we go too far."
"Sorry, I'm just being stupid and emotional," I say and let go of Daedalus, "You're right, maybe we should get to know each other first."
"How about a trip into Nimbasa on the rest day between the semi-final and final?" he suggests, "Or would you rather be preparing for the final?"
"We could do both, if you don't mind training with me," I say, "You were a great help yesterday."
"Then it's a date," Daedalus says with a smile, "Now, I think it's time to clean ourselves up. Your Goodra made quite a mess."
I freeze for a moment and then look down. I see that I am still covered in the slime from Goodra's hug. It has dried since then, but is still sticky and has passed onto Daedalus' clothes now too. I hurriedly apologise, but Daedalus makes out that it's fine. It isn't, he's just being nice to me.
We bid farewell and I head back to my room to clean myself up while Daedalus has his own change of clothes. As I reach my door and fumble for my room key, I notice there is someone else in the corridor. I turn to see Lancelot Elderidge stood looking at me. He is wearing that same white suit as always and brushes his hair away from his eyes with a hand.
"Miss Wexler, just the person I was hoping to see," he says. His tone is pleasant, it seems about as cheerful as someone like him can get.
"Mr Elderidge," I say politely, turning to stand facing him.
"I hope you are not too busy, I would like to invite you for a short walk," he says, "There are things we must discuss."
"Discuss?" I repeat curiously.
"I would like to congratulate you properly on your victory today, a narrow one indeed, but superb nonetheless," he says.
Lancelot turns and holds out his arm gesturing for me to follow him. As much as I would like to have a shower now that I have realised how much of a mess I am, Lancelot is a powerful man of influence. I am in no position to refuse him. I am definitely cautious about this meeting though. It isn't by chance and the obvious conclusion to make is that he is the one behind whatever is happening with the Battle Gears.
Reluctantly, I walk alongside Lancelot as he leads me through the hotel. Our first port of call is the lift. He has a destination in mind and it is downstairs. I listen, nod and occasionally give the one word responses expected of me as Lancelot discusses my battles so far in the tournament. He says that he is impressed by me and my unique style. This feels like idle conversation to keep things going until we reach wherever he is taking me.
Eventually, Lancelot invites me into a room. There isn't much in the room, just a few armchairs and a coffee table in the middle. There is a counter at the side of the room which is where Lancelot immediately heads to.
"Please, take a seat," he says, "Would you like a drink?"
"No thanks," I say as I awkwardly try to sit down without getting Goodra slime on the chair.
Lancelot prepares himself a cup of tea in silence before taking the seat opposite me. He places his drink on the table and looks over me. His eyes are examining me. I feel like I'm being judged and about to be dealt my sentence.
"Did you know that eavesdropping is wrong, Miss Wexler?" he asks finally, "Did your parents not teach you that?"
I sit in stunned silence. I stare at Lancelot Elderidge as he continues to examine me with his now cold and emotionless eyes.
"Did it not occur to you that there might have been security cameras in the stadium?" he continues, "Yes, I've heard all of your little discussions with your so-called friends. You think there's something going on at my tournament. You assume that I am the one behind it. Well, my dear, you would be correct."
"What is going on then?" I ask.
"You need not worry about that," he says, "That is why I brought you here. I want you to understand that there is nothing for you to fear. Destiny will run its course and all shall be well. You could say that I want to put your mind at ease."
Lancelot reaches inside his suit jacket and carefully removes a Poké Ball. I start to panic. All of our suspicions seem to have been confirmed. I want to run, get away before Lancelot does whatever he is about to do with the ball in his hand. I want to warn everyone. The tournament is a lie. It is a cover for some kind of scheme. I can't though. I am paralysed by fear.
"I just told you, there is no need for worry," Lancelot says. His voice is calm, but it's a sinister calm. "One of your friends, the frail girl, was worried. She tried to stick her nose in places it didn't belong. She was scared too. She worried, but I put her mind at rest."
Lancelot flicks his wrist and releases the Pokémon inside his Poke Ball. A yellow humanoid creature appears hunched over next to him. The Hypno begins to swing its pendulum and I instantly know what he's trying to do. I try to avert my gaze, close my eyes, anything. Nothing works. My body is no longer mine to control, I am stuck following the pendulum with my eyes. All other thoughts seem to fade away. Then, I hear Lancelot's voice.
"You have no reason to be suspicious of the tournament. You are a competitor and wish to win. Let all memories of so-called suspicious activity drift out of your mind for good," he says in a calm and soothing voice.
With each word, I can feel my mind slipping away. I am relaxed now. I don't remember why I wasn't relaxed before. What is happening?
"You will forget this meeting ever transpired," he says, "And now, sleep."
My eyelids feel heavy. My mind is too clouded to think. I slouch and slowly slip out of consciousness without a care in the world.