June 1st, 1978, 2000
"AH!"
Sula jerked awake in utter confusion as she tried to make sense of the unfamiliar surroundings. She was lying alone on a small cushion in an otherwise empty space, grasping at the fragments of a pleasant dream. In it, she had been tanning on her Lapras as they coasted through beautiful emerald waters.
She wiped the drool off her face and immediately began panicking as she remembered what exactly she had been doing before she fell asleep on the inn floor.
"Shit, ShiT, SHIT, what time is it?" Sula shouted frantically as she stood up and attempted to bring her disheveled clothes into some semblance of order. Sula crinkled her nose in distaste; she smelled strongly of wet Seel fur.
Her panic was momentarily interrupted by the soothing scent of green tea and a comforting, maternal voice.
"Hey, you, you're finally awake! You looked so comfortable it didn't feel right to wake you up like that," the elderly proprietress chuckled as she sat in one of the heavily cushioned chairs across from where Sula stood.
"Here, have a drink of this. You look like you need it." The woman delicately passed Sula a steaming mug of what she could only assume was responsible for the heavenly scent she had just caught wind of.
Sula accepted it reluctantly, carefully doing her best not to spill it as she aggressively blew the steam away from across the surface of the scalding liquid.
"Thanks, but I gotta go! Or very soon, anyway. Do you know what time it is? I'm super sorry for falling asleep like that. I promise I'll pay for a room when I return! I would normally never do that, but today has been quite a day so far," Sula explained anxiously.
"Take a moment and drink the tea, honey; rest assured you need it. As for the time, I believe it is currently…." The owner diligently looked down to check her watch, "Eight o'clock! Just about on the nose. I do try to make sure my watch is right on time. Not good for business to give customers the wrong time, you know," she said helpfully with a knowing smile.
Without a thought to the steam emitting comfortingly from the mug, Sula brought it to her lips and drained the entire cup in one fell chug.
Hothothothothothhotshithothothotohfuck, thought Sula as she desperately dashed out of the inn in an attempt to make the critical appointment she had just missed, fanning her burning mouth all the while.
What a strange young woman, mused the inn's owner as she watched Sula run off without a word. She even left all of her belongings. It must have been an important date. The innkeeper shrugged her aging shoulders before conscientiously setting Sula's bag behind the counter to await her eventual return.
Sula's lifelong training came in handy; she ran back to the gym the entire way without breaking a sweat. She slowed abruptly as she approached the gym entrance, making sure her long braids were in order and that all her pokéballs remained clipped to her belt. Sure enough, her belt was secure, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she ran her hand over the six gleaming metallic devices lovingly.
Sula took a deep breath before making her way in. She was immediately confronted by the woman she had met with before, although the receptionist seemed significantly less patient than earlier!
"Miss Seiichi, I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it!" The receptionist greeted her with a strained smile as she set a clipboard up on top of the front desk. "If you would please sign here, I'll take you to the lift for your match. I'm afraid to say everyone is waiting for you, and Blaine is not pleased in the slightest."
Sula bowed her head in forgiveness. "Allow me to apologize for my absence and any inconvenience I may have caused."
"Please, dear, save it for later; you have no time! Sign this so we can be on our way," she said with a gesture to the forms on the desk. "There is a media release form to give your permission for this match to be both televised and broadcasted nationally, as well as a waiver denying any liability on our behalf if you or your pokémon are injured. You have the honor of being this circuit's first challenger of this nature throughout the country. Congratulations."
Sula signed both documents without batting an eye; she had been briefed on how the process would go from her mother and wasn't surprised at either document. These would be standard for the remaining matches after she won this one.
"Alright, I'm ready," Sula said with a wide grin. Curious, She followed along as the attendant led her through the gym's expansive space. Things had changed a lot since she was last here! Sula was impressed; in stark contrast to the dojo-style gym at home, this state-of-the-art facility was dark, sleek, and steely, without any wood to be seen.
It makes sense since we're literally next to a volcano, realized Sula as she kept pace with the aging employee.
They passed a designated area for students and professionals to use freely. It was complete with computers, chairs, and even a small electric kettle to boil water for tea or coffee. As they moved further into the facility, Sula spotted the standard arena where she had battled against Blaine for the past two seasons.
It was a standard-sized arena with the stylized flame logos that Blaine was so fond of. Personally, Sula thought it was gaudy and attention-seeking. Back at Fuchsia, her mom's gym lacked any personal touch, and she preferred it that way. No need to call attention to yourself if you just let your skills speak for themselves.
Usually, gyms were bustling with staff going about their day-to-day obligations, but this evening, the gym was nearly silent. Sula could only hear the quiet hum of the many computers scattered around the facility. Cinnabar Gym lived up to the hype as the center of tech development in Kanto outside of Saffron.
As if reading her mind, the receptionist pointed out the reason. "All of our auxiliary employees, except for myself, were sent home for tonight. Blaine doesn't like anyone to watch any of his personal matches directly. He only allows for the matches to be released after they have been cut and edited by our professional staff here. He's afraid if he loses, his staff might lose their respect for him," she explained. "Not that it's a well-founded worry. Blaine hasn't lost a personal match in the five years I've been working here, and I doubt he's going to now, even if you're Kiriel's daughter."
Sula smiled and practically brimmed with confidence. "That's great! I'm happy that I'll be able to provide you with a new experience!"
An uncomfortable silence descended upon the pair as they finally arrived at the gondola that would bring them up to the volcanic arena that overshadowed the city. Sula didn't mind. It gave her a chance to calm herself before the match.
The receptionist smiled awkwardly. "Here we are, Miss Seiichi. You didn't take my advice about the water bottles, but I wish you the best of luck nonetheless. I'll look forward to the results of your match." She waited patiently for Sula to enter the lift, which she did without hesitation. The attendant fiddled with a couple of buttons near the edge of the door before a loud "CLICK" could be heard, and the device hummed to life.
Sula waved goodbye at the attendant as the lift grumbled its way upwards. She took the fleeting moment of calm before the battle to take stock of her situation. Fortunately, her clothes were less damp after her run, but the smell of Seel was still ever-present.
Ah shit, I forgot to change into my kimono, realized Sula as she looked down at her clothes. She wore her standard travel gear: knee-height leather boots, dark canvas pants, and a blood-red sweater with a black scarf. This was going to have to do. Next time, I'll be better prepared, but at least Blaine won't be able to smell me through the literal volcano. I would die if he said something, especially since I know he'd let that through to the final recording FOR SURE.
The ride-up took longer than expected. In contrast to the sleek modernness expressed by the rest of the gym, the lift was a relic of the past, as evidenced by the fact that it was rust orange- and unfortunately, not as a stylistic choice. This can't be safe, thought Sula as she nervously looked over the edge.
It was an open-air gondola and gave an expansive view of the city as the rider headed upwards. The sun had already set, and darkness had largely descended over the island. Hence, the only thing visible were the abundant lights emanating from the tall buildings clustered around the city center. Sula looked in wonderment at the size of some of the buildings; in Fuchsia, the tallest building was only a few levels high!
As she gazed in quiet enjoyment at the novel scene, Sula soon found herself docked in a small reception bay at the edge of a metal platform stationed on the volcano's rim. An ominous set of pristine steel doors was accompanied by two large sculptures of an Arcanine and Ninetales, respectively.
Sula gulped in anticipation. This is way more exciting than the typical gym challenge.
There was no one else there to guide her, so she cautiously continued through the intimidating gate into the arena, where her breath caught in her throat; there was a gigantic rock slab easily stretching fifty meters in either direction suspended over an enormous pool of roiling lava. It was inscribed with rudimentary markings outlining "boundaries" to the arena as if the magma below wasn't sufficient.
I definitely need to talk to mom about upgrading the gym, thought Sula gleefully as she made her way onto the platform on her side of the arena. We could do a steaming vat of poison! That would definitely do the trick. We wouldn't have to deal with all the annoying Fuchsia nothings constantly challenging us.
She fully took in her surroundings as she stepped onto the steel platform. Sula could make out various cameras spaced intermittently around the arena. The platform she was on was separated by about ten meters from the arena itself, and there was a small pedestal with a mic for her to use to communicate with her pokemon.
Many small cubbies scattered around the area were filled with League-trained Kadabra and Hypno to manage the psychic containment field. Usually, for most gym matches, only one Kadabra was required, but since they were on an active volcano, it seemed like an eminently rational precaution.
Sula promptly grabbed the device and attached it to her scarf, ensuring it was firmly secured. At that point, Sula noticed something. It was hot. Really, really hot. She could feel herself breaking into a heavy sweat just seconds after arriving at the arena. She plucked at her damp sweater, quickly becoming saturated with acrid-smelling perspiration. The thought of some cold water was appealing, but Sula pushed the thought out of her head.
It's too late now. We're here to win; I don't need any damn water, had enough of that on the way here, thought Sula stubbornly. At least my own scent might finally drown out the damned smell of Seels.
"I see you've finally managed to arrive." The voice was nasal and condescending, as if the speaker could hardly bear to respectfully address anyone. "I feel so blessed that the Seiichi wunderkind has finally deigned to grace my humble gym with her presence. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you. I know your time is so, so valuable."
Blaine's words were heavy with sarcasm as he stepped onto his side of the arena. He was wearing his trademark lab coat and floral shorts underneath. His greying hair was styled with a classic combover in a painfully obvious effort to conceal his ever more barren pate.
Shoulda stuck with the hat, thought Sula as she recalled the ridiculous straw hat Blaine had been wearing for her match last year. At least it matched those tacky shorts.
"Hi, Blaine! Long time no see! I'd apologize for my lateness, but I get the feeling that it's no use crying over spilled milk, so let's just get this show on the road. I need a nap," said Sula dismissively as she checked her nails. Blaine is too easy to provoke, thought Sula in amusement.
"Foolish, arrogant girl. For as much battle prowess as you might display, you certainly fall far from the tree. Kiriel would never disrespect her opponent so. It's unfortunate to increasingly encounter the entitled offspring of the great generation. You sniveling whelps grow fat and content off the sacrifices of your betters without any gratitude or consideration," said Blaine in disappointed resignment. "But indeed, let us "get this show on the road," as you say."
Sula stood silently, waiting for the barebones rules she expected for a private match like this. Blaine was never one to stand on ceremony.
"This match shall have no referee. I will make any and all calls as needed. The match will be a six-on-six battle. There are no switches. Since I am the challenged, I shall lead with the first pokemon," said Blaine matter of factly.
"Rapidash, go."
As Blaine made his first move, a flash of crimson light materialized in the form of a large, flaming equine creature. Blaine's Rapidash was the stuff of legend, and seeing her in the flesh didn't disappoint. Standing closer to three meters than two, the fierce pokémon pawed impatiently at the ground, waiting for a command.
Sula knew that Blaine had used the Pokemon to blitz enemies in the war, using its speed to catch them off guard and annihilate them with the rest of his team. Blaine had been an expert in maneuver warfare, and this pokemon was the one who made that method viable at all. It was exceedingly rare to have a commander capable of operating on the front lines in such a way.
The pokemon pawed the ground impatiently. Sula knew it was pretty old, but there would be no way to tell by looking; the pokemon was covered with layers of rippling muscle that gleamed in the magma light, and its eyes gleamed with unabashed violence, ready to unleash its speed.
Knowing she had sixty seconds to decide on her pokemon, Sula took full advantage of the time to analyze what she knew about Blaine. For as much as he financed technology development, the man himself was simple enough, as most fire-type specialists invariably ended up. It was in the nature of the element, and the "Fire Master" himself was no exception.
His strategy now and in the war, if her mother was to be believed, was to hit things fast and hit them hard when they least expected it. Sula knew this would be a different experience than the last two gym run-throughs. The pokémon Blaine used for his regular gym challenge were mainly there to test trainers rather than subdue them. Blaine's personal team?
They were killers.
And to fight a killer, you needed to avoid dying, thought Sula with a quiet giggle to herself.
"Grumpig, get out there," Sula called out excitedly as she flicked one of the balls from her belt to the field.
In an almost comical contrast to the fierce horse opposing him, Sula's choice mirrored it perfectly: dark, where Rapidash was bright. Thick, where Rapidash was slender. And no one would dare call Grumpig beautiful.
The diminutive Suidae bounced in place as it waited attentively for Sula's orders.
It was oddly quiet. Most matches were accompanied by a screaming commentator or a roaring crowd, crying for the blood of whatever trainer happened to have lost its favor.
On this serene summer evening, all that could be heard was the bubbling of molten earth as the two pokémon faced off.
"Rapidash, use Agility and get warmed up. Hit with Stomp as many times as you need to," said Blaine calmly. "Avoid fire moves. That pokemon is quite resilient to them."
The fire horse shimmered with a pale pink light as it took a deep breath before slowly exhaling a cloud of superheated steam. It blurred towards Grumpig, looking for any openings. The arena literally cracked from the force imparted by its sudden movement.
"Oh, Blaine, you shouldn't have! Grumpig, Trick Room," Sula ordered playfully, hoping there would be enough time for Grumpig to get the move off.
"Tsk. Stop it from finishing! Get in there quick and hit it hard. Make it lose its focus," ordered Blaine with a wave of his hand.
Rapidash jolted into action to disrupt Grumpig but was caught just short as a shimmering pink aura briefly appeared along the arena floor like an early morning mist before quickly dissipating into the platform as if it was drinking it down greedily.
Rapidash suddenly lost all momentum like she had floundered into a tub full of thick molasses. However, in the instant it took for the move to activate, the pokemon had already more than made it close enough to lash out with one of its front hooves. The hit connected, sinking deeply into Grumpig's thick belly with bone-crunching force.
Sula's pokemon grunted in pain and heaved for a moment but maintained its position, exhibiting a newfound spryness as it enjoyed the handy boost from Agility.
"Shake it off, Grumpig! Keep the Trick Room up; otherwise, you're screwed. Hit it with a Zen Headbutt before it can get out of range!"
The now much faster Pokémon immediately lowered its head and coated it with a sheen of violet energy before gracefully closing the gap and crashing into the slowed Rapidash.
The pokemon attempted to dodge, but due to its proximity, it could not shift away in time.
Although it might be small, Grumpig's significant mass sent Rapidash reeling across the arena. Chips of igneous rocks flew off the edge in wide arcs. The arena was quite porous and was easily damaged by the blunt force. Rapidash stood up proudly a second later, but Sula could tell it had felt the damage, as evidenced by the slightest of limps as it warily awaited another command. It was more cautious now, she could tell.
"Use Fire Blast! Keep your distance, and don't let it get close," yelled Blaine. "Wait until the Trick Room wears off to move in and finish it. That species doesn't have much offensive capability. You should be able to wear it down from range."
"Fuck that! Get in close as quickly as you can and hit it with your head again," shouted Sula.
Before Grumpig could close the gap, Sula's ears popped painfully as all the oxygen in the immediate vicinity was consumed in an enormous wall of fire that flashed menacingly toward the charging pig.
"Grump-"the pokémon started calling out in alarm as he was consumed by the fire. A fleeting moment passed until the fire dropped out of existence like it was never there. In its wake stood a slightly worse-for-wear Grumpig. His already dark coat was just a touch darker, but other than that, the pokémon looked untouched.
Sula relaxed slightly in relief; Grumpig's layer of protective fat was working overtime to keep him protected from the intense heat she expected from all of Blaine's pokemon.
"Grumpig!" he cried triumphantly as he tore across the arena in search of his opponent. Grumpig had barely managed to maintain the Trick Room and used the speed to rapidly close, dropping his head into the evasive equine pokemon when he was close enough. Rapidash didn't have the breath to protest as she was unceremoniously slammed into the psychic barrier on the edge of the arena, falling unconscious in a spray of vibrant sparks as the arena crackled from the force of the blow.
After using two Zen Headbutts in a row, Grumpig could not maintain the passive Trick Room and slowly made his way toward Sula's end of the arena to await orders and recover.
Blaine recalled the downed pokémon and looked at Sula consideringly. "For all your bluster, it does appear as if you've improved since the last time I saw you," he admitted. "Let's see how you deal with this! Ninetales, I need you."
A beautiful kitsune flashed into existence dead in the center of the arena at Blaine's call for aid.
If Rapidash was fierce, then Ninetales could only be called terrifying, yet in a different way. If Sula were only going by appearances, then Blaine's Ninetales might be the most beautiful pokémon she had ever seen. Her golden coat shimmered with an otherworldly luster, and her luxurious tales fanned out hypnotically behind her in a dazzling array of reds, whites, and golds. There was only one problem.
Her eyes. Her creepy, Arceus damned eyes.
Ninetale's chilling red eyes shone with an intelligence beyond humankind's understanding entirely. Sure, all of Blaine's pokémon were killers, but Sula had heard horror stories about this one in particular.
Although there were some loosey-goosey ethical considerations in the War of Unification, they were officially codified in the latter half. Before that time, however, Sula knew that Blaine had made liberal use of this particular pokémon's ruthless psychic prowess to rip information out of the enemy soldiers' minds without consideration, leaving a line of broken men behind her.
Blaine had officially been pardoned by the League for his actions in the war, but not before Ninetales had earned one of the most downright menacing monikers Sula had ever heard.
The Reaver.
Sula's bedtime stories had consisted of listening to Kiriel tell tale after tale from the war, but this one had always stuck with her for some reason. There was something profoundly disconcerting about such a mystical pokémon brutally breaking people until they were drooling, slobbering messes on the floor, incapable of even eating or shitting without aid. Most of them had to be put down, and Blaine had been the one to do it. Sula reminded herself that although Blaine might be an annoying old man now, he had undoubtedly been imperative in Kanto's military success.
She wiped away the sweat pooling on her brow and calmly rolled up her thick sleeves as if that would magically calm her down. Her pulse was racing, but she couldn't tell if it was from fear or excitement. Or dehydration, she thought. Either way, she was coming out of this with a win, no matter what it took.
"Get ready, Grumpig, this might be a rough one."