Say what? We reached 250 Favorites and 350 Follows. Thank you so much! I know this chapter is late. Without going into details, I must inform you that I am changing the upload schedule. I will try to post every other week instead of weekly. I simply don't have that much time anymore.
Regardless, Thank you for reading so far!
Azalea rolled her eyes as her grandfather began the tale of Shiro-Obi yet again. She had heard the folk story a thousand times over the years. Supposedly, Shiro-Obi's village was threatened by wild Pokemon, so he embarked on a journey and discovered martial arts.
As Motobu recounted the familiar tale, the villagers' lines rang out in Azalea's ears like a broken record:
"Build higher walls!" urged the carpenter for the hundredth time.
"Dig deeper pits!" the farmer demanded once more.
"Forge stronger weapons!" cried the hunter again.
On and on the villagers squabbled, voices blurring together, each insisting their own solution was best no matter how many times it had failed.
To Azalea, the whole thing sounded like utter nonsense - a kid's fable with little to do with reality. She failed to see how it related much at all to the actual origins of Ora-Ryu, beyond the superficial connection of Shiro-Obi using fighting techniques against Pokemon. As Motobu droned on, Azalea had to resist the urge to scream out in adolescent frustration.
"Shiro-Obi traversed raging rivers, scaled towering mountains, and crossed vast plains on his valiant quest!" Motobu proclaimed theatrically.
Is... Is that guy actually listening to the story?
Glancing over, Azalea noticed Daniel was utterly enthralled by her grandfather's folk tale, hanging on Motobu's every word. He seemed as rapt and wide-eyed as a small child being told a wondrous bedtime story for the very first time.
Azalea could hardly believe a grown man would listen with such focused attention and awe. Surely this guy must realize these were exaggerated fables? Yet his captivation persisted unabated as Motobu's narrative voice rose and fell.
"As Shiro-Obi pressed onward, he encountered a mysterious blue-furred Pokemon whose body was wreathed in dancing flames of an otherworldly azure hue. The creature's sleek form radiated with an energy, unlike anything the lone wanderer had witnessed in his adventures thus far."
Azalea fought back a groan, the exaggerated delivery grating on her ears.
Ok. I can't take it anymore.
"Grandma, may I please be excused?" Azalea asked, forcing an innocent smile to mask her true aims.
"Of course, dear," Sakura replied absently, not detecting the girl's underlying motive.
Azalea hurriedly excused herself from the table and retreated to her room, pulse quickening as she shuffled down the hall.
It'll be alright. Grandpa has a new student now, and he cares way more than I do.
She could take the ferry to One Island, invent some emergency at the school that required her to leave. Anything to escape the suffocating confines of her grandfather's antiquated dojo life and become a Pokemon trainer. This was her chance to finally break free.
I'm sorry, Grandma.
The thought of leaving her grandma without warning pained Azalea. A pit opened in her stomach, and her mind weighed heavily with guilt.
She'll understand. She always takes my side. I'll call her once I'm in Sinnoh and explain. It'll be fine.
Despite her attempts at rationalization, Azalea's conscience continued to plague her. From the dining room, she could hear her grandfather's theatrical voice rising and falling as he reached the story's climax.
"Shiro-Obi returned with a great power. One that could protect his village. The Aura that we still carry to this day."
Backpack in hand, Azalea silently crept from her room, resisting the urge to glance back. Lingering would only deepen her doubts. She slid on her shoes, gazing upon the tidy rack holding her family's footwear, neatly arranged and waiting for their return.
The front door creaked open with a groan that thundered in Azalea's ears. Yet it drew no attention from the others still engrossed in Grandpa's story. She slipped outside, hesitating before gently easing the door closed behind her.
Azalea's gaze fell upon the ferry at the dock, its pristine white hull seeming to glow under the radiant sunlight. The open water beyond beckoned, the promise of escape and new horizons shimmering just out of reach.
Azalea hurried down the road, the looming presence of the house like a weight pressing between her shoulder blades. She could almost feel its disapproving gaze following her retreat. Breaking into a jog, then an outright run, Azalea fled blindly onward. She breezed past familiar neighbors without acknowledging their friendly waves, fixated only on the path ahead.
It was not until she reached the crowded town square, panting and flushed, that Azalea finally slowed her frenzied pace. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, she felt the stifling scrutiny of home begins to lift from her conscience. Here she was just another face in the crowd, not Azalea, the Ora-Ryu Inheritor, Azalea the coward.
"Shiro-Obi focused his aura, manifesting a pulsating sphere of pure energy between his palms. With a fearsome cry, he hurled the Aura Sphere forth. It collided with the giant Onyx in an earth-shaking explosion, toppling the massive creature to the ground with a resounding crash," Motobu proclaimed. "The awestruck villagers stood in dumbfounded silence, marveling at Shiro-Obi's might."
Motobu's tale sparked a torrent of questions in Daniel's mind. Could the lore be true - did a Lucario truly mentor a human in manipulating Aura? How many miles did Shiro-Obi's journey span exactly? Was it even possible for a mortal man to harness such power against a towering behemoth like Onyx?
Daniel pondered the blurred boundaries between myth and reality. Perhaps the fable contained kernels of truth, origins lost to time now swaddled in imaginative embellishments. Or maybe it was pure fiction, crafted for entertainment rather than historical accuracy.
He yearned to peel back the layers of hyperbole and uncover the core facts. There seemed to be genuine wisdom encoded in this parable, hints of an attainable skill beyond mere fantasy. Daniel hung on to that hope as Motobu continued.
"The astonished villagers tentatively approached the fallen Onyx, its massive body sprawled lifeless before them. One by one, they reached out to prod its grey hide, as if confirming this was not some illusion. The skeptical hunter took his spear and rapped it sharply against the Onyx's head, but its impenetrable armor held firm even in defeat. At last convinced, the people turned to Shiro-Obi in awe. The impossible had been achieved - their champion had vanquished the fearsome beast."
"And so Shiro-Obi, the legendary founder of Ora-Ryu, shared with them the mystical art of aura - imparting its secrets so that man need never fear Pokemon again," concluded Motobu, eyes twinkling.
To punctuate his tale, Motobu clasped his hands together and manifested a flickering blue flame of aura energy. Sakura applauded at this display, confirming to Daniel that the abilities described were more than mere fantasy.
"So lad, what did ye think?" Motobu asked as he dismissed the flame.
"Well, I thought it was an amazing story," Daniel eagerly replied.
"No, I meant what did ye learn from it?"
"Oh. Well, I learned that humans and Pokemon didn't always get along. Apparently, humans can learn moves like Pokemon can. And also that Aura is probably fighting type."
"Huh. I see," Motobu said slowly.
"What. Did I say something weird?"
"Well lad, everyone knows that people and Pokemon weren't always together," Sakura chimed in. "In fact, it's well known that people and Pokemon were once the same in some way. Then some disaster befell us and we became separate from Pokemon."
"What kind of disaster?" Daniel asked.
"We don't rightly know. It happened far before history as we know it," Sakura responded.
Daniel sank into pensive reflection as Motobu's tale faded. He was struck by the realization that all those he had encountered and would yet meet in this unfamiliar world shared an innate commonality - one that fundamentally set them apart from him.
But, I used Aura. I can use Aura. Why?
Maybe there was more to Aura than just descending from Pokemon or Pokemon-People. If there was an answer, Daniel had nowhere to start.
"Daniel, tell me again how you came to Three Island," Motobu requested. His gaze indicated he wanted the truth, the entire truth.
Daniel sighed, bracing himself. "Ok. Here it is. I woke up under a palm tree on a deserted Island with absolutely no memory of how I got there."
Motobu nodded, confirming that this was the truth.
"After panicking for a bit, I had to start surviving. So I climbed coconut trees, gathered berries, and went fishing."
Thoughts of Wilson came flooding back to Daniel. A pit opened in his stomach as he recalled befriending the Oddish.
"I... I made friends with an Oddish and I hatched Lazuli from an egg. I got attacked by some Krabby, built a shelter..."
Against his will, Daniel's thoughts drifted back to the horrific attack. He saw Wilson's body sprawled lifeless on the beach and felt that paralyzing mix of despair and fury threatening to swallow him once more. The tempest raged unchecked in his memory, mirroring the inner maelstrom that had gripped him under its onslaught.
Even now, days removed from the trauma, he could recall with perfect, excruciating clarity the clawing helplessness of that moment. The need to act, to protect, to lash out warring with the awful futility of it all. Painful as it was, some insecure part of him felt compelled to revisit that degradation, that complete loss of agency in the face of such savage indifference. As if only by reliving its sting could he inoculate himself against again being so profoundly unmade.
Lost in his grim reverie, Daniel felt a sudden soft brush against his back. He turned to see Lazuli gazing up with her big, guileless eyes, radiating innocent affection. As he lifted the tiny Pokemon onto his shoulders, Daniel's bleak ruminations began to dissipate, like dark clouds parted by the sun.
Lazuli's gentle warmth surrounded him in a comforting glow, easing the icy grip of remembered terror and helplessness. The simplicity of this bond pierced his melancholy more profoundly than any sage advice or platitude ever could. For now, at least, Daniel was content to bask in the tranquil present, his wounded spirit unclenching its defenses as Lazuli nuzzled close.
"Now how did... she get in here?" Sakura asked, rising to her feet.
"I'm sorry. I'll..."
"It's alright Daniel. You can keep her close," Motobu interjected.
"Thanks," said Daniel, his dread replaced with gratefulness.
"I'd better go survey the damage in the kitchen and see where that Dratini slipped in," Sakura declared, a hint of exasperation in her voice as she marched off to assess the messy aftermath of their unexpected visitor.
"Aye, love," said Motobu before facing Daniel. "Lad, ye don't need to tell the rest of yer story. I can figure out the rest."
Daniel slumped, thankful that he didn't have to live through the ordeal once more.
"Under great threat to yer life, ye ignited yer Aura. It likely saved yer life, granting ye the power to overcome the threat. But it came at a cost," Motobu said sagely.
Daniel nodded silently as Sakura moved into the hallway.
"What ye endured, it's similar to what Shiro-Obi went through don't ye think?"
Upon reflection, Daniel realized the parallels between Shiro-Obi's mythic journey and his own thus far. Both had left from the familiarity of home into the untamed wilds beyond. Each found an unlikely companion and nurtured a symbiotic bond with their Pokemon. And both ultimately uncovered an inner wellspring of power that granted triumph over a greater foe.
Indeed, the lines between Shiro-Obi's fanciful tale and Daniel's own fledgling legend seemed to blur. Could it be mere coincidence that brought him to this place and set his feet upon Motobu's path? Or was there some deeper significance, some enduring truth passed down through the ages now beckoning him onward?
I don't know. This could just be a coincidence. I definitely don't feel like a powerful hero.
"Lad, the aura energy within ye shines with an intensity seldom seen," remarked Motobu, his tone turning solemn. "It is that remarkable potential which compels me to invite ye into my home, and offer to teach ye."
The old man paused, a mischievous glint returning to his eye. "And, it would do my headstrong granddaughter well to have a rival of your caliber. Keeps her motivated, lest she grow complacent!" He finished with a wry chuckle.
Daniel sat silently as he weighed Motobu's offer. This was the chance to learn about aura he had hoped for. But it also meant committing to stay and train indefinitely.
What about his dream of becoming a Pokemon trainer, and seeing the world? He still longed for adventure.
And Motobu's family - Azalea clearly resented his presence, while Sakura seemed skeptical of this vagabond her husband had welcomed in.
"Are you sure that everyone else is okay with this?" Daniel asked hesitantly. "I wouldn't want to impose on your family."
"Well, I won't lie to ye. Ye might need to sleep in the dojo for a while. But I'm sure that's better than sleeping outside. I'll even pay for yer trips to the bathhouse!"
Motobu was sweetening the deal, but Daniel still wasn't sure of the old master's motives. Why wasn't he trying to teach his granddaughter? The offer to mentor him seemed likely to only increase the simmering tension between Azalea and her grandfather.
Well, I'm not going to look this gift horse in the mouth.
"I'll do it. I'll train with you," Daniel agreed.
Motobu's face lit up eagerly. "Excellent! We can begin right away."
"Now?" Daniel asked, caught off guard by the swiftness.
"No time like the present!" Motobu declared robustly, clasping Daniel's shoulder. "Come, we must start honing yer focus before my wife can object."
Though initially hesitant, Daniel found himself getting swept up in the old master's enthusiasm. Nodding, he rose from the table with Motobu. He started towards the door, but Sakura barred the way.
"Before whose wife can object?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah. My lovely wife," Motobu said, batting his eyelashes innocently. "I was just going to teach this young lad here a few moves. Nothing too involved."
"Well before ye even think of teaching this lad how to breathe, yer going to go fetch our granddaughter. She's run off," Sakura said with a sigh of exasperation.
Motobu's face scrunched up as if he were deep in thought. "That lass will come to her senses. She'll be back."
"But ye still haven't made up with her after yer argument last night," Sakura retorted.
"She'll be back. She's got nowhere else to go," Motobu replied with confidence.
Sakura frowned, her patience worn thin. "While you sit and wait, someone needs to actually do something. I'm going to find Azalea and bring her back myself."
Without another word, Sakura turned and marched determinedly towards the front door. She flung it open with more force than necessary, slamming it shut behind her as she stepped outside. Her expression set with resolve, Sakura hurried away from the house in search of her wandering granddaughter.
Daniel stood quietly behind Motobu, remaining silent during the discussion. As a guest in their home, he felt it inappropriate to insert himself into their family matters. If he hoped to stay with them, it was best not to interfere.
"I'm sure things will work themselves out in time. For now, let's start on yer training," Motobu said with a calmness that seemed forced given the situation.
"All right," Daniel replied, eager to move on from the uncomfortable exchange.
Daniel followed Motobu out of the house and across the sandy courtyard between the buildings. Lazuli clung happily to his shoulders, peering around with wide-eyed curiosity at their surroundings.
A few yards ahead stood the dojo—a long rectangular structure composed of polished cedar beams. Tall triangular windows ran along the tops of the white-washed walls, their paper screens allowing soft natural light to filter inside.
As Motobu slid back the heavy wooden doors, Daniel paused in the entryway to take in the dojo's interior. A high ceiling towered above, its dark beams curled with age. The floors within gleamed a rich honey hue, so smooth one could see their reflection upon the polished planks.
Along the far wall, calligraphy scrolls hung neatly in intricate wooden frames, their wispy brush strokes imbued with philosophical sayings. Beneath these hung an array of polished weapons—blunted staffs, bamboo practice swords, and sparring gloves.
At the center of the spacious hall, a thick woven mat was rolled and stored in the corner. Its resilient fibers had absorbed countless lessons over decades of use. Nearby, a small mahogany altar housed an ornate incense burner, its tendrils of scented smoke winding towards the rafters in silent prayer.
Daniel lingered a moment, awestruck by the peaceful atmosphere and history imbued in every meticulously maintained detail. Then, turning to Motobu, he asked softly—"So, what's first?"
"For now, let's start with your stance," Motobu said gently.
"Should be simple enough," Daniel replied with an easy shrug.
The initial lesson focused heavily on proper stance and footwork - areas Daniel had not considered in depth before. Motobu went into meticulous detail about positioning the feet shoulder-width apart, left foot forward with the right foot back at a 90-degree angle. He emphasized keeping the hips and shoulders square with an imaginary opponent.
To reinforce the points, Motobu would test Daniel's stance by applying gentle pressure. Time and again, Daniel found himself caught off balance as the elderly man demonstrated surprising strength for his age. Each correction helped further ingrain the foundational movements that would serve as a basis for future techniques.
"I have a question," Daniel asked, remaining in his stance.
"Yes?"
"These stances seem different from what I've seen before," Daniel ventured carefully. He demonstrated a narrow position with his shoulders and hips in line with his imaginary opponent.
"Don't karate practitioners stand like this?"
"They're called Karateka, and ye ain't learning just karate. Yer learning how to grapple, strike, manipulate aura, and maybe some weapons. To do all of that, we learn this stance first."
"Oh. Ok." Daniel didn't expect to learn so much. How long would it take to master all of those skills?
More time than I'd like.
While Motobu continued his instruction, Daniel still felt the call of wanderlust in his heart. He longed to journey across the lands as a Pokémon trainer, visiting real places that had once been fiction to him as a child. Mastering aura techniques under Motobu's tutelage held great appeal, yet the thought of remaining confined on yet another isolated island also stirred restlessness within him.
He wondered if a similar sense of adventure had compelled Azalea to flee, despite the security of home and family. Daniel understood the allure of answers that might await beyond sight's edge. Still, Motobu had offered Daniel a roof to sleep under. Daniel would, at the very least, stay until his trainer card came in. That would be about a month from now.
Time held little meaning inside the dojo's walls. Without so much as a clock to track the hours, Daniel lost himself in Motobu's instruction. They covered various gaits for combat - simple steps, passing steps, and even a footwork pattern called the triangle step.
When Motobu tasked Daniel with drilling each at a full sprint, he pushed himself. Exercise wasn't the worst thing to get exhausted by. Flying across the polished floors, Daniel tried maintaining tight form as his feet flew into the new rhythms. But on one pass, his lead foot stumbled slightly as he changed direction. He threw his arms out to catch himself, heart pounding as he narrowly avoided faceplanting on the wooden planks.
Motobu nodded approvingly. "Good. Maintain good form. True speed will follow." He eventually produced a rope ladder, laying it out for Daniel to weave through. Sweat beaded on Daniel's brow as he picked his way intimately in and out of each rung. Focusing wholly on fluid footwork, another misstep saw his trailing leg twist awkwardly. Only pure reflexes kept him upright at that time.
By the session's end, Daniel's limbs trembled with exertion. Even Lazuli seemed troubled by his near-falls, nuzzling close in concern until he caught his breath.
"Fetch yer self some water. Then, we will move on to boxing," Motobu said, gesturing to an out of place water cooler.
As Daniel filled a cup, breathing still labored, he asked, "What? We're gonna fight already?"
"No, I'm going to teach ye how to punch. Then we're going to fight," Motobu said with a wry half-smile.
Daniel huffed out a weak laugh, mostly because he didn't know what to say.
Is it ok for me to fight on the first day? I'm a little nervous.
Daniel's lone combat experience had been the harrowing battle to defend himself from the rampaging Salamence, an ordeal powered more by desperation than anything else. This would surely be different.
As Motobu began demonstrating basic punches and their proper form, Daniel focused intently on memorizing each nuanced movement. Step with the blow, turn your hips and shoulders, sharply exhale, and make sure to punch in a straight line. This was merely practice - an opportunity to learn, not live or die by his skills. Still, he felt anticipation stirring beneath his calming breaths, eager to test these new techniques in a safe, controlled setting.
Motobu then equipped two large leather pads on both of his hands. "Punch these with intent, keeping good form. I'll yell which hand to use."
"Do I need gloves?" Daniel asked, poking the pads. They were much firmer than he thought they would be.
"Normal folks do, but we don't," Motobu raised a pad. "Punch this with yer right hand."
Daniel did as instructed, mindful of his form. He went so slow that his strike didn't even make a sound.
"Now, as hard as ye dare."
Daniel struck the pad with more force. This time there was an audible slap and his fist stung as he pulled it back.
"Now, ignite yer aura and strike so hard, ye would break yer hand."
Daniel hesitated, analyzing Motobu's words. Could my hand actually break?
Motobu wore a serious expression as he spoke. "Yer Aura will protect yer hand. Ye just have to get it moving first."
Daniel met the master's eyes and nodded. This wasn't the most dangerous thing he had punched, so he would trust Motobu's words.
Dropping into his stance, Daniel closed his eyes and breathed steadily. Within, he sensed his aura - a still pool resting below the surface. Imagining it as a gentle swirling motion, like a spoon stirring a pot, Daniel coaxed it to life once more.
Gradually, muted glows emerged behind his eyelids. Pinpricks multiplied into shining motes that swirled lazily through the darkness. And there, a brilliant radiance emanated from Motobu - his aura burned as vividly as the midday sun.
"Yes," Motobu said enthusiastically. "Now stir it faster, so fast ye let it loose."
Daniel focused intently, visualizing the stirring implement growing larger in size. Yet a spoon, even a spatula, still failed to adequately invoke the aura's potency.
Shifting tactics, he envisioned himself physically lifting the cauldron and swirling its contents with unrestrained fervor. A crescendo arose - light intensified around him in building waves with such brilliance that forced his eyes open with a start.
The real world appeared dim and muted in comparison to the storm swirling within. Daniel felt his aura stirring with unchecked velocity, thrumming through every limb and sensation. Power coalesced at his core, a swelling torrent begging for release.
When at last it breached its boundaries in a heady rush, Daniel gasped at the overwhelming ecstasy that pulsed through his veins. Strength suffused his being on a cellular level, reservoirs brimming with barely contained might. Each atom vibrated with potential, a thunderhead ready to be unleashed upon any adversary.
"Now strike!" Motobu exclaimed, waving the leather pad.
Daniel struck, and his hand met the pad with a crack like thunder. Motobu's arm flew back as he raised the other one. "Left!"
Daniel punched as indicated, giving in to the vigor that now filled his entire being. He felt an intensity building within himself like a tidal wave growing larger as it approached the shore.
This is amazing! I've never felt so alive before. I feel like I could sprint across the whole island.
"Left, left, left, right - keep that rhythm," Motobu directed as he backed steadily across the worn floorboards.
Daniel followed, letting his body burst with movement while maintaining a balanced form. Coordinating complex patterns while surrendering to the motion within proved a challenge.
Motobu's keen eyes picked out every subtle flaw. "Straighten yer back. Engage the hips. Bend the knees." His instructions guided subtle corrections to habits already half-formed.
Daniel felt the energy in his body quicken, allowing him to strike harder and faster. He gave in to the feeling, letting himself bask in the invincibility it gave him.
Yes! This is amazing I can...
Daniel's inner tempest abruptly calmed, leaving behind only a shallow pool of still aura. Depleted reserves drained away in an instant, all strength vanishing in their wake.
His body crumpled mid-strike, legs folding bonelessly beneath him. Daniel crashed to the polished planks, cheek slamming onto the hard surface as his lungs spasmed for air. Heavy muscles refused to obey any command.
Through a haze of exhaustion, Daniel saw Motobu's weathered face materialize above his own. The old master knelt at his side.
"Well done lasting as long as ye did, lad," Motobu said, favoring Daniel with an appraising nod.
Still struggling to regain his breath, Daniel managed between gulps of air, "You...expected this to happen?"
A wry chuckle escaped the old man. "Let's just say I had a hunch pushing yer limits might elicit such a response. But never fear - it's all part of the learning process. Now ye know firsthand the heights yer aura can scale, and the price for remaining that high."
Motobu rested a steadying hand on Daniel's shoulder as he fought to steady his racing pulse. "No need to rush full mastery in a day. Steady progress through patience and practice - that is the Ora-Ryu way. yer well on yer path, lad."
"Does that mean we're done for the day?"
"Aye. Looks like we will have to fight tomorrow," Motobu said as he removed the pads."I'll go talk to Sakura. She should be back with Azalea by now. I'm sure I can convince her to let ye stick around."
"Thanks," Daniel gasped weakly, the simple utterance requiring immense effort.
For the first time since awakening alone on that deserted shore, Daniel released control and allowed another to take the reins. Motobu gently lifted him, bearing most of the youth's weight as they moved from the dojo.
Daniel's mind drifted in a haze, memories of endless solitary struggles swirling beneath fatigue's veil. How long had it been since he trusted another with even a shred of well-being responsibility? Survival had demanded an inflexible independence, one stripped away by this all-consuming exhaustion.
Thank you so much for reading! I'm looking forward to blazing through a month in a single chapter. Pacing? what's that? I really don't want this next part to take too long. I have found that people think that Sakura and Azalea have been treating Daniel poorly. I think the ladies' attitude makes sense because Daniel is a dirty homeless man. There's room for development!