Note- Welp... a bit later than expected. My apologies for that. Spring is my favorite season, but also my busiest. Teaching and coaching doesn't give me really any time to write outside of spare Saturdays. I'm just happy I was still able to get this out within my self appointed two month window. Thank you for your patience!
As for the chapter itself, man, this one turned out a bit longer than expected. After his climactic victory, we'll get to see how Chris handles the fallout. And what about the rest of our crew? What are our eliminated trainers up to? How are Waz and Luke feeling as their quarterfinal battles loom? Let's see what our newest chapter reveals!
Please consider dropping a review and follow/favorite for notifications about future chapters! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 72
Chris nearly fell flat on his face as the barrier he'd been pressed against vanished. He tried to turn his stumble into a graceful skip, but nearly toppled over again as a wall of sound struck him. He'd read that the barriers at these high profile tournaments dulled the sound to help with communication between trainer and Pokémon, but this was the first time he'd really experienced it. Stars filled his vision as he looked up at the bright lights. When they didn't go away after looking down, he forced out a painful exhale, and they slowly vanished.
How long have I been holding that in?
An even louder roar rose up as he quickly shuffled over to Ampharos. The Electric-type Pokémon had begun to topple sideways, her planted arm giving out.
"Hey, take it easy."
Chris caught her and guided her down onto her side. He slung his backpack off his shoulder and dug out an antidote and potion. He sprayed down the ugly purple cuts on her legs, before mixing in the other healing ointment. She'd taken a beating from both entry hazards and super effective blows. She tensed up as he rubbed at a quickly forming bruise on her shoulder. That had to be from one of Stealth Rock's projectiles.
Ampharos carefully twisted around to face him. She managed a smile through gritted teeth.
"Yeah, that's right," Chris said, showing a grin. "You absolutely just saved our tournament run."
She nodded and let her head fall gently back to the ground. She closed her eyes as Chris went over her legs one more time. He'd just reached for her capture device when the judge called for him. Chris went to trigger the return button, but paused. His cheeks burned and he could feel tears filling both eyes.
"I knew you were tough. You showed that from day one. But this… thank you."
He sniffed back some snot that threatened to leak out, then shook his head. The judge called him again, the annoyance in his voice much less masked now. Chris kept his head down, but gave a quick wave. He rubbed away a streaking tear before finally returning his victorious teammate.
As he stood back up, the crowd noise seemed to rise with him. With all the intense emotions swirling inside him, he couldn't yet bring himself to soak it in. Especially with the judge's cold stare fixed squarely on him. His trip onto the battlefield meant the judge would have to wait a bit longer, as Chris needed to maneuver around the risen mounds of earth and over several large craters. When he did reach the judge, he noticed Sarah there for the first time. Though it didn't look like she had noticed him.
Thousands of faces stared down at Sarah, and she stared right back.
With rows upon rows circling her, she wasn't quite sure where to look, but she refused to blink as her gaze swept over the walls of faces. They had begun some kind of chant, but her ears either wouldn't or couldn't pick up on it.
Was she still numb?
Her sister sat somewhere up there. She had always been someone to stay and show support, no matter how bleak the situation or result. It was an admirable quality, though Candice made it seem so overbearing.
Was she angry?
A flash caught her eye and there she found a large television camera staring her down. Here her failure was being broadcast worldwide. Was Seth watching? Hopefully the earlier than expected start time meant he missed it. With all the stuff he had going on, the last thing he needed was her lost lumped in.
Sarah closed her eyes and took a slow breath. When she opened them, she finally brought herself to look at the judge. He didn't stare back, though his annoyed expression made her thankful that was the case. He shouted something toward the middle of the battlefield and gave several short waves with his hand. It felt strange to see him frustrated; he hadn't been the one to lose a potentially career altering battle. Then the subject of his annoyance came sprinting over, and suddenly Sarah realized this actually involved her career assassin.
"Alright. Congrats to you both for making it this far." The judge paused his typing to withdraw a round piece of metal from his pocket. "Sarah, here is a medal acknowledging your impressive run to the quarterfinals."
A sizable part of her wanted to slap that participation medal from his hands. All of these trainers were here to win. Nobody here would be happy coming in even second or third, and especially not fucking eighth. She leveled her glare on the medal, then the judge, and then Chris. When her eyes found the Johto native's, she felt a bit of that malice weakening. His face didn't hold that stupid smirk. His stare wasn't demeaning or arrogant—hell, he looked just as shocked as her.
She brought a hand up to hide her sigh, then used the other to slowly take the medal from the judge's hand.
"And congratulations Chris for advancing to the semifinals. You will receive information about a meeting before that round commences, as well as an official schedule as soon as the last battles in the quarterfinals wrap up."
"Thank you."
The judge finished his typing and put away the device. "We're going to be cleaning up the battlefield here shortly, so please make your way to your respective tunnels." And with that, he strode off to follow his own advice.
Chris's arm lifted a fraction, but stopped. He'd dropped his gaze to the ground and twisted his body so that it looked like he'd already begun leaving. "That was a great battle," he said.
"They always are when you win," she replied. That got his stare back up, an added heat rushing to his faint freckled cheeks. She thought he might actually fire off a smart ass line, but his pursed lips suddenly curved into a smirk. That fucking smirk.
"Very true," he said.
Sarah let out another exhale and dropped one hand to her hip. She tried to bring the other down but somehow found it extended toward Chris. "Best of luck in the next round," she heard herself saying. That sounded a little too genuine, so she added, "You're going to need it."
Chris gave a slow nod and shook her hand. His mouth looked half open like he might say something else, but nothing came immediately out.
"Well," Sarah said, pulling her hand back, "I'll catch you down the road."
And with that, she turned and made for the tunnel. She needed to collect her things from her locker, check out of her hotel room, and… figure out what the next phase of her life would look like.
Chris wasn't quite sure what had come over him. He had been waiting for the joy of victory to wash away all the anxiety and stress leading up to this moment. Instead, he found himself in some kind of daze.
As the judge ran through their next steps, Chris felt a strong desire to just make for the tunnel. It was such a strange inclination, especially with how much Chris had desired this rematch and this moment in particular. He'd come into this battle with a laser focus. Sure their ultimate goal was to win the Silver Conference, but this battle in particular had been one he'd needed for months. And he hadn't been alone. Scizor had put in the added preparation and withstood as much damage as Chris had ever seen him take. The Pincer Pokémon had played a major role in whittling down a sizable portion of Sarah's team. But as motivated as Chris and Scizor had been, their efforts paled in comparison to Typhlosion's. The Volcano Pokémon had pushed himself past points Chris hadn't thought they were ready for, all in service of a performance like this. His starter had damn near taken out half her team.
Chris couldn't leave. His team had worked too hard to pass what had happened off as something insignificant. All he could think in the moment to say was, 'That was a great battle.'
Sarah's snarky remark didn't carry the malice he had expected, which helped his lips ease into something resembling a smile. The real shock came when Sarah extended a hand. As he moved to shake it, he half expected her to pull it back.
"Good luck in the next round," she said, grabbing his hand and giving it a painful squeeze. Her stare didn't carry its usual iciness though, even as she added, "You're going to need it."
Chris tried to think back to all the coldest, most badass lines that had flashed through his mind as he dreamed about this moment. There had been nights when he couldn't sleep that he'd come up with one, two, and sometimes even three sick revenge lines. He couldn't recall a single one now.
Then Sarah had said her goodbye and left.
As he watched her head toward the tunnel, her hands stuffed into her front pockets, a disconcerting thought popped into his mind.
How would I have been if Mamoswine had knocked out Ampharos?
Something prickled Chris's ears, snapping him back to his surroundings. A wall of sound echoed across the battlefield, tapered off for a brief moment, then rolled back over. A chorus of voices, thousands of people in near unison. Chants weren't uncommon during these major battling events. Some were inspired by sports, while others had been developed around certain beloved Pokémon or their trainers. It wasn't until Chris had nearly reached his tunnel that he finally could make out this chant. It was much shorter than he had realized. Just one word, with two stretched out syllables.
Joh-to. Joh-to. Joh-to.
A chill ran up Chris's spine. He felt bumps rise to the surface of his arms as the hairs on his neck stood up. The cold blast scattered the clouds that had been swirling around his brain.
He found himself grinning. Then laughing.
"Thank you!" he shouted. As he reached the entrance to the tunnel, he spun and gave a wide wave to the crowd, drawing a thunderous response.
He and his team were really doing this. Not only were they making a name for themselves, but they were bringing respect back to Johto and its battling scene. They had been given this opportunity to make a statement and a platform where they could spread the message. And it seemed they'd already gotten the ball rolling.
The next few minutes seemed like a blur. His trip to the locker room, gathering his things—he didn't really remember doing any of it. It felt so different to the aftermath of his previous two battles in the Finals. He hadn't been able to ease up and enjoy that feeling of victory. He had always sensed who was on the horizon. Even now, he knew his next battle with Prinny would be even more difficult, regardless of whether it carried the same emotional weight. And that was to say nothing of the Championship round if he were fortunate enough to reach that. But dammit, they had gotten sweet revenge on someone who had waved superiority in their face for too long. Just this once, Chris allowed himself to bask in the euphoria of victory.
He changed out of his sweat soaked clothes and threw on his comfy pair of shoes. Even if there weren't any other battles, he felt like hanging out around the stadium. It might be nice to make some loops. Even if the concessions were now closed, he could use a bit of a cool-down walk to get out all this excitement. And hey, if he met a few fans along the way, maybe they'd treat him and his dad to some free food.
It wasn't until he took a moment to sit still, back and head resting against the cold metal of the lockers, that he realized his Pokégear had been buzzing non stop. He glanced down at the screen, expecting to see a caller ID, but instead found multiple names flashing across. These were messages, not a phone call. And a steady stream of them at that. He knew he didn't have the energy to try and read and respond to them now. Instead, he sent a quick message to his dad to come meet him on the south end of the stadium and closed the device.
He threw his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the door. He'd only made it a couple of steps into the hallway before he noticed a figure leaning against one of the walls.
"You had me worried there for a while."
Even though Kamon wasn't looking at Chris, the trainer could feel the Gym Leader sizing him up. Hopefully he had risen somewhat in the older trainer's standings since their time in Mahogany.
"That makes two of us," Chris said. "Though I can honestly say I never doubted my team's ability to pull this out."
"Just your own."
Chris flashed a smirk and started back down the tunnel. When he reached Kamon, the Gym Leader uncrossed his arms and pressed off the wall to join him stride for stride.
"Let's just say I may have been praying for a tie there at the end."
"It's good to see you still able to keep things light after something so intense."
"I wish I could have been more that way during the battle. By that final showdown with Ampharos and Mamoswine, I felt like I'd developed ulcers." Kamon didn't reply to that, but Chris thought he could see the Gym Leader watching him from the corner of an eye. "We pulled it out though. And thank Arceus we did. We could not lose to her a third time."
They continued down the hall in silence, eventually reaching a sectioned off area.
"They've blocked off the trainer tunnel now that the last battle is over," Kamon explained. He nodded toward a set of stairs. "We can take those up to the main concourse. It'll still keep us on the south end so you can get where you're going from there."
"So," Chris said as he took the first step, "I know I haven't gotten to talk with you since the tournament began. Has it been fun watching all the battles?"
"It's been…a lot." They took several more steps without Kamon elaborating, all while echoing voices drifted down from whatever lay above them.
"Has it been nice to get a break from running the Gym at least?" Chris asked.
"It would be if Kirk would just stick to what we had agreed upon. One end of the day check in. That's it. All I need is a call that the Gym is in good order and the Pokémon are taken care of." Kamon shook his head, but Chris thought he caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. "That damn fool tries to call me every two hours, pretending he has a question, but really just wanting some insider info on how the tourney is going."
"Can you really blame him? He wants to be here competing some day."
Kamon snorted. "Well, he damn sure wouldn't be blowing up my phone this much unless there was somebody he was still actively rooting for."
That sent a jolt through Chris's body, pulling him momentarily from his giddy euphoria. A heat rushed to his cheeks, with tears now suddenly threatening to materialize. "That… that means a lot. I really need to send him a message and catch up."
"Absolutely. Maybe then he'd leave me the hell alone."
The number and volume of the voices had grown substantially as they neared the top of the long stairwell. It sounded like they'd be mixing back in with the public very soon. That bummed Chris out as he'd hoped to spend more time with the Mahogany Gym Leader. Then again, the fact that Kamon had come down to congratulate him and escort him back from the biggest victory of his career was a gesture beyond what Chris could have expected.
As they reached the top of the stairs, a large foyer came into view. Stadium officials stood at a very clear choke point that separated the hallway to the steps from the rest of the wide room. Traffic on that other side looked minimal, which seemed strange after seeing the stadium packed for both battles. Had everybody left that quick or had Chris taken longer than he realized getting changed and decompressing in the locker room. Either way, he knew he wouldn't have to worry about his dad having already left. Whether at a sporting event, concert, or battle, Ben Aedan loved being the last person out of a crowded stadium.
Security waved them though as they reached the checkpoint and suddenly Chris's nose was swimming in a sea of delicious smells. He glanced around, but just as he'd feared, all the concessions looked closed.
"Man, I think my appetite just came back in full force. You want to hit up a restaraunt and grab some food?"
"Thanks for the invite, but I've already eaten."
Chris shook his head and chuckled. "I bet the catering in that Gym Leader lounge is top notch."
"It is one of the perks I actually like." Kamon peered down the rapidly emptying hall. "You may have some trouble getting into one of those restaurants outside. I'd say that's where everyone is headed.
"Shoot, you're probably right."
"I know it's not much," a voice called from a passing crowd of people, "but I have a leftover pizza slice in this box if you'd like it." Chris turned and found a man in a bright yellow shirt holding out the aforementioned box.
"Are you sure, man?" Chris asked.
"Hell yeah. You deserve it after the show you put on out there!"
"Thank you!"
Chris grabbed the container with one hand and gave the man's arm an appreciative squeeze with his other. When he'd turned back around and opened the box to study the pizza slice inside, he found the color had drained from Kamon's face.
"You're not really gonna eat that, are you?"
"I was so nervous this morning, I couldn't stomach anything past a breakfast bar. I'm starving, Kamon."
"Starving is preferable to sick."
"True, but counterpoint: have you ever won a ginormous battle and then realized you are completely famished?"
Kamon shook his head, but let a grin show. "I'm going to get out of here before you start eating that. I might throw up."
"Hey," Chris said, raising the slice, "if you stay a bit longer I might be able to get a fan to give us another."
"I don't have pizza," a very familiar voice called out, "but I do have some nachos with cheese that could pass as warm."
Chris turned and found his dad stepping out from behind a small line of people just to his left. As much as the father and son loved stadium nachos and cheese, Chris knew the giant smile on Ben's face was about something else.
"I'm glad you found us, dad. I was worried we might have a harder time with them apparently blocking off the trainer tunnel."
"Us?" his dad asked, before his eyes registered Kamon, who looked to have been mid-turn leaving. "Well, hello there, sir."
"This is Mr. Kamon, dad. He's—"
"Oh, I know Mr. Kamon."
"Oh… right." The memories came flooding back. Sitting in the stadium with his parents, watching the battle unfold below. The yelling match between his dad and brother after. The latter memory had dwarfed so much of the former that sometimes he still forgot who his brother had battled. Chris glanced over at his dad and found him looking at the Mahogany Gym Leader with a strange expression.
"Hello, sir," the younger man said, slicking his red hair back. He extended a hand toward Chris's father.
Ben smiled and handed the bin of nachos to Chris. "I appreciate you working with my son," he said, shaking Kamon's hand. "And he's mentioned in passing that you've helped him out of a couple different jams in the past. That's very kind of you."
"He helped me a ton at the Gym. And he's a really good kid to boot. You're two for two on great sons."
"Well, their mother is mostly to thank for that," Ben said, showing a smile. "I think Matt especially took all her best battling traits."
"I still remember our battle; it's one of the best I've ever been in. And Chris has already given me a great battle as well."
The mentioned party's head whipped back and forth with each comment. This entire conversation felt so surreal. It seemed these two men, even when they mentioned him, had forgotten Chris was actually there with them.
"I'm glad to hear it," Ben said.
Kamon glanced back over his left shoulder. "I'm going to be heading back to the hotel now." He gave Chris a quick nod. "Great battle today. I'll be looking forward to your next one." Then he gave Ben a full nod. "Great to meet you, Mr. Aedan."
"Funnily enough," Ben still had a smile on his face, only now it looked like it had lingered long enough to sour, "we've actually met before."
Lines filled Kamon's forehead. "Oh? Was it at that Silver Conference?"
"It was actually before then."
Kamon's perplexed expression could have doubled for Chris's own. "Before?"
"Oh yes," Ben said, his grin now completely gone. "It wasn't until months after you and Matt battled that I even remembered seeing you, so I don't blame you at all for forgetting. I believe you visited the Goldenrod Tower once while I was working."
Kamon's eyes narrowed, but the rest of his face remained motionless. "Oh yeah? I think I have been to the tower once. Chris says you still work there."
"Indeed. It's still stressful, but not nearly as stressful as the week you visited." His father let a small smile show, but the warmth never got close to his eyes. His stare didn't waver from Kamon. It had Chris feeling beyond uncomfortable. He'd never seen his father like this. "We unfortunately were in the midst of a hostile takeover and terrorist attack."
Chris turned to hear Kamon's response and nearly stumbled backward. The Gym Leader's pale face had flushed crimson and his eyes had become slits. One of his cheeks began to twitch, but his voice stayed calm as he muttered, "Yes, I do remember when that happened."
"But enough about bad times and bad people." Ben had that wide grin on his face again. This one had those familiar smile lines back around his eyes. "We'll let you get going. I'm sure with all the festivities, you Gym Leaders stay busy. Go get you some well deserved rest."
Kamon did a half turn, paused to mumble a quick goodbye, and then quickly took off toward the nearest exit. Chris watched him for a couple seconds before turning back to his father, who still had his eyes on the distant trainer.
"What was that about, dad?" Chris asked.
"Seeing him just had me reminiscing."
"That was your reminiscing face? I thought you were going to punch him!"
Ben scoffed. "Son, come on. You know I wouldn't do that." Chris's father placed a hand on his shoulder. "I just wanted to see how he's changed over these last several years. Arceus knows we've all been changing. It seems like he's in a good place now."
"Was he not back then?" Chris asked.
"Well," Ben paused, his mouth working as it waited for more words to come, "things were more complicated. I'm just glad all of us are doing better."
"Alright." Chris still had more questions, but his father looked and sounded ready to drop the conversation. In fact, he was already starting down the tunnel toward the main exit.
"You better eat that pizza and nachos quick," he called back to Chris. "That's some expensive cheese!"
Through the tiny window, the blue sky stretched out to the west without spot or blemish. Seth had to look below the plane wing, to the white, fluffy blanket of clouds below, to find any evidence they weren't heading straight for the ocean. Things went from confusing to near nauseating as the plane veered to the right. Through gritted teeth and squinted eyes, Seth made out a black sky far above, with tiny twinkling stars dotting the darkness. He could only manage a quick glance before his eyes went shut again. One of his hands went down to join his other in clasping his stomach.
Arceus, he hated planes.
He could fly on the uncomfortable back of his Aerodactyl—fully exposed to the elements and the jerking motion of creature flight—with no issue. And yet, commercial travel gave him a bizarre and unfortunate combination of motion sickness and sinus headaches.
If his schedule hadn't been as rushed, and the distance not so damn far, he would have made the trip on the back of Aerodactyl. Sure it would have taken four times as long, but the cramping in his stomach and pounding against his skull felt like they'd been going for days at this point. The double dosage of medicine he'd taken before boarding either hadn't kicked in yet or was powerless to keep his body from doing what it always did in this situation. He should have bought those sleeping pills back at that Celadon drug store.
A light ding from the overhead speakers managed to cut through the sucking pressure in his ears. Then came the pilot's voice. Seth strained to listen, but it sounded like he was speaking down a wind tunnel.
"We're… descent… Oreburgh… thirty…"
Seth leaned back in his seat, trying both to listen closer and alleviate the pressure on his stomach. It accomplished neither.
"Fucking planes," he mumbled.
Seth pried his eyes open and found the man beside him looking at him. Seth really didn't care. He just wanted the pain to end. And that couldn't begin until he got off this hellish ride. Although, a different kind of pain had already set in well before this torturous vehicle arrived.
He had managed to catch Sarah's entire battle at the airport bar. His confidence had wavered somewhat at the beginning, but she'd quickly won it back in setting up her Toxic Spikes strategy. After layering Stealth Rocks with it and knocking out Typhlosion, he had truly believed Sarah would win. The shock that set in after watching Mamoswine sink to the ground had lingered well into his boarding, and hadn't really vanished until this tsunami of bodily discomfort had washed every other thought away.
Now, even the painful memory of that loss felt like a needed distraction from his present misery. For Sarah though, her loss probably cut even deeper than the stabbing pain in his stomach. Even back in primary school, the girl had never been a gracious loser. She had taken every defeat personally, whether in the classroom or on the battlefield. Teachers became mortal enemies she slayed with top tier academic success. Opposing inexperienced trainers were pawns to be exploited and benefited from. It had taken years of friendship before she'd let her guard down and he could see what drove her mindset. Even now, he knew there were things she still kept to herself, about her family and her own insecurities, that she would never let anyone be privy to. In a way, that was true of many of the people in Sinnoh. It was a rugged land that had attracted rugged people. It was still in their blood, no matter how modern and convenient Sinnoh's cities and routes became.
Blue became white, and then darkness swallowed up the outside view. The cabin rocked side to side, sending Seth's stomach into a tizzy. Then the plane gave a sudden jolt. Seth's hand went to his throat, and it took every ounce of his strength to keep the rising bile there. He grabbed his water bottle and tipped what few drops remained through his pursed lips. He grabbed hold of the thin armrest and squeezed it till his knuckles hurt. His stare never wavered from the back of the chair in front of him. He needed something—anything—to remain steady in his vision.
Darkness gave way to a grey sky as the plane made it below the thick cloud layer. Seth eased his head around and thankfully could take in the view without amplifying his queasiness. A distant shadow immediately grabbed his gaze. The dark mass in the distance stood so tall that the top of it resided somewhere in the cloud layer they'd just left. The distant spire, with its horizon spanning base was unmistakable.
Mt. Coronet.
He'd made it home.
\/
Whether thanks to the medicine or getting out of his own personal pressurized hell, Seth's ailments lifted almost immediately upon stepping into the boarding bridge. The positive feelings continued with each shuffling step, culminating in absolute elation as he reached the Oreburgh airport terminal. Even though he was still indoors, he decided to give credit to the fresh Sinnoh air.
As he made his way down to the baggage claim, his wrist began to buzz. He glanced down at his lit up Pokétch screen and saw two missed call notifications. With his parents scheduled to pick him up, he expected to see his mother's name there, but the two call attempts had come from the same unknown number. He shrugged it off as a misdial and stepped onto the packed escalator, but before he could even reach the bottom floor, the device came alive again. Seth went to answer, but realized this notification was for a voicemail. He swiped over to it and found it had come from the same number.
"This is Anthony Everton with Continental Freight. I was calling to discuss details for your first job. Please call me back at your earliest convenience."
Seth threw his backpack over his other shoulder as he stepped off the escalator and tapped the call back button. The dial tone didn't even get through its first ring before the call was answered.
"Hello?" a deep voice asked.
"Hello, sir," Seth said.
"Is this Seth?"
"It is, yes sir. I'm sorry for missing your first two calls. I just got off a flight."
"That's alright, Seth. I appreciate you getting back with us so quickly. And I'm glad you made it back to Sinnoh safely."
Seth made it to the baggage claim, where a beautiful painting of the southwestern section of the region resided above the looping carousel. Buildings and routes brushed in such beautifully simplistic detail, from the skyscrapers in Jubilife down to the two room homes of Twinleaf. And on the right side, nestled among the foothills of Mt. Coronet lay the mines and buildings of Oreburgh.
"It does feel good to be back home."
"Well," the man paused and took a long inhale, "then I'm extra sorry to have to make this call."
"Did something come up?"
"Unfortunately. We'll be needing you back in Johto sooner than expected."
Seth stared down at the conveyor belt as luggage began to drift past. He had hoped for at least a few weeks with his folks. Long enough to rest up and get some quality family time. He knew he couldn't expect or even wait too long to get to work, but…
"I'm sorry, Seth. I just found out today about this adjustment, otherwise I would have gotten in touch before your flight."
"It's alright," Seth said, fighting back a sigh. He scooped up his travel bag as the conveyor brought it within reach and made for the exit. As he went to speak, his Pokétch screen flashed an 'incoming call' message. Mom. His parents must have been pulling up to the terminal arrival just outside. He reached the sliding doors and was greeted by a blast of cool, spring mountain air. Arceus, he had missed it.
"When would you need me back?" Seth asked.
"Let's see." There was the rustling of papers and clicking of a keyboard. The faint squawk of what sounded like a Honchkrow echoed just over the static. While Seth waited, that nauseous feeling began to seep back into his stomach. He tried to distract himself by looking for his parent's old, beat up van, but the game was short lived. They had parked just a couple spots away from where he stood. They must have already seen him, as evidenced by his mom already being halfway down the sidewalk. He gave her a warm smile, then tilted his head to look over her. There, leaning against the car door, stood his old man. His face didn't hold his mom's smile, not that it really ever had. And neither of his hands held the cane he was supposed to be using during this stage of his recovery. Even a near death experience couldn't shake his father's stubbornness.
"Sorry about that wait," the man said, clearing his throat. "I wanted to see if I could give you an extra day up there but it looks like we're locked into this date. With it being your first project, you'll want to be at the meeting that prior afternoon."
"Understood. When and where will that be?"
"It'll be the afternoon of May 7th. And we'll have you at our site down on Route 32."
Well I'll be an Infernape's uncle!" David shouted, loud enough that even the echoes could be heard over the busy crowd. "Is that Christoper Aedan?"
Chris waited until he'd gotten close enough to not have to shout back his reply. "Who's Christopher?"
"You're telling me that's not your full first name?"
"Nope," Chris's father chimed in.
"Well shoot. My apologies." David scratched the back of his head and glanced over at Luke. "I guess I got bad intel."
"I'm surprised you were able to corral Luke for this." Chris nodded to the Tohjo Falls native. "I thought you'd be getting prepared for your battle in the morning."
"We put in some work this afternoon after your battle. I'm definitely still feeling anxious about it."
"Which is exactly why you need a good drink," David said, waving them toward the entrance.
"I've had a hard time relaxing even after wins," Chris said.
"That's because you're Chris Aedan, Johto legend."
"You keep saying my name and pretty soon you'll be trampled by all my adoring fans."
"You joke, but don't think I didn't hear the crowd today after your win," David said as they reached the front desk. He gave the hostess his name and then turned back to the boys. "I'm glad you boys decided to show. I was a bit worried after we booked this room that I would be the only one sitting in it."
"I can't believe you booked it the night before my battle," Luke said, shaking his head. "Do you want me to lose?"
"This was the only day and time they had this room available. And there was no way to know a week ago when I got this reservation who would be battling when. Hell, there was no guarantee any of us would even still be battling! If anything, you should be thanking me for having enough faith to believe you'd still be here battling. Arceus knows at least one of you would have left if you'd gotten beat."
"You could have counted on me being here," Ben said with a laugh. "I never miss out on good food and company."
David grinned. "I appreciate that, Mr. Aedan."
The hostess ushered them through the busy restaurant, bringing them around a bend and to a private party room. A clearly inebriated Mitch sat at the middle of the table, a bottle in each hand.
"It's about damn time the rest of the party showed up!" he roared, waving one of the containers and sending a stream of alcohol splashing down onto the table. "I thought I was going to have to drink all this by myself."
"Shit," Luke said, plopping down next to his friend, "it looks like you're halfway there."
David glanced down at his Pokégear. "I thought we agreed on eight o'clock. How long have you been here, Mitch?"
"Well," Mitch tilted his head and his bottle back, "maybe about thirty minutes. Don't worry though; I already paid for the extra time and drinks."
"Well then all is forgiven!" David snatched one of the bottles from his hand and dropped into the seat opposite him.
As Chris and his dad took their seats beside the Violet City native, the former glanced around at the four remaining seats. "Are you expecting a full house?" he asked David.
"I was hoping so when I booked this, but now I doubt it. I'm hoping we can get at least two more."
"Shit, I'm amazed we got you," Mitch shouted, reaching an arm across the table to slap Chris's shoulder. "I didn't think I'd ever see you in person again."
Chris shook his head. "I'm starting to pick up on a common theme here."
David jumped up from his seat. "There's a nice surprise!"
Chris turned his head and found Waz standing in the doorway.
David was already guiding the Sevii Islander over to the chair beside Luke. "We gotta sit the battling boys together. That'll keep the good luck going. Just remember, no discussing anything battled related!"
Chris sank back into his chair and felt his shoulders relax. Something about Waz being here had him feeling more at ease about his decision to come. Perhaps because the Sevii Islander had also isolated himself to train when not at the stadium. He'd damn near missed their quarterfinal press conference because of it. If he was here, with his battle in just over twelve hours, Chris could finally stop beating himself up about not using this time to prepare for his next battle.
As he took his seat, Waz's eyes went wide as he caught sight of Chris. "Looks like we can be social," Waz said, showing a smile.
"Just wait," Chris said, chugging the glass of water the waiter sat down in front of him. "You'll hear that same sentiment about twenty more times before you leave tonight."
"Leaving?" Mitch was looking over at them incredulously. He grabbed two half full cups and slid them down to Chris and Waz. "Ain't nobody leaving till we get our money's worth!"
"I hope you didn't spend too much," Ben said, taking a sip from the cup in front of Chris. "My bedtime is in about an hour."
"You, sir, are the exception." Mitch paused, his eyes squinting as if taking Chris's father into focus for the first time. "Oh, and Mr. Aedan, I would love to talk to you about working at the tower. I'll be there as a paid intern here soon."
"Down on the entry floors?" Ben asked.
"Yessir!"
He may not have meant to show it, but Chris caught a very clear look of relief from his father. Mitch was too busy downing his third glass to notice. "Well, congratulations. And welcome to the team."
"I might not be out much later than Mr. Aedan," Luke said through bites of his appetizer.
"Have you ever had a battle here that started earlier than ten?" Chris asked.
"I've gotten lucky."
"Forget battling," David said with a laugh, "I can't even remember the last time I saw you up before ten o'clock."
Ben shook his head. "Not a morning person, I take it."
"Not if I can help it," Luke replied as he tried and failed to keep away the bottle David was pushing toward him. "Shit David, do you think a hangover is going to help me become a morning person?"
"It can't make you less of one. Might as well enjoy the time of day you actually thrive in."
The appetizers continued to roll in, but David pleaded that nobody order their meal yet. He argued it was because he wanted to wait for any late arrivals, but seeing the inebriated states of Mitch, himself, and now Luke, Chris doubted David could even keep track of time.
At around forty-five minutes past the hour, Chris finally convinced David to allow them to order their entrees. At that point, it felt like he might have been the only one there really advocating for it. He'd lost his father to a buzz that had him chatting Mitch's ear off about some kind of electrical engineering jargon. Mitch, for his part, stared back unblinkingly, seemingly absorbing every word as if they were the secrets to true happiness. Waz was the only other person in the room not inebriated, but he didn't look far from it. And based on the amount of sushi he'd already eaten, he probably wasn't clamoring for even more food straight away.
"We've got to get the big plates going, broski."
All the men in the room turned their heads to see Dobbs marching toward the table.
"See!" David shouted and threw his hands up, nearly knocking the waitress's device from her hand. "This is why I wanted to wait!"
Dobbs dropped into the seat farthest from Chris and grabbed a menu.
"You picked a good time to show up," Chris said.
"Of course," was all Dobbs gave back, though Chris thought he heard the trainer repeat himself under his breath.
After all the orders had been placed, Chris sat back in his chair and took a deep breath. He tried to clear his mind of anything battle related. Arceus knew he needed some kind of distraction. Maybe a drink and a conversation about life would be a good place to start. He grabbed a glass and poured the nearest drink into it. Glancing around, it took a few seconds, but he eventually locked eyes with Waz.
"How's life?" Chris asked, taking a swig of his drink.
"It's been very battle focused."
Chris choked. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth as he turned away. His nose began to burn as the alcohol threatened to reroute through it. His dad turned to check on him and Chris quickly gave him a thumbs up.
"We got us a light weight!" Mitch howled, before passing Chris another nearly full glass of dark brown liquid. Chris did his best to ignore the comment and especially the drink.
"Focused on battles, huh?" Chris croaked. He grabbed a glass of water and downed it, all while massaging his throat. "Anything non-tournament specific to share?"
Waz couldn't hide the curiosity in his normally neutral stare. He let a small grin show as he asked, "Should there be?"
"I don't know, man. I've just felt so squeezed since getting here. All I've been able to think about are these battles, both past and future. I was really just hoping you could give me another topic."
"Would Torkoal's breakthrough on his Lava Plume count?"
Chris tried to sigh, but could only laugh. That got Waz laughing too. "Sure, man."
"That's more like it," David said, pounding Chris's back. "It's about time you boys loosened up."
The entrees began arriving not long after. Or at least, the first couple waves did. David and Mitch had apparently not only booked the room, but also ordered extra food and drink. Plate after plate, drink after drink. The only hypothesis Chris could muster involved a signing bonus or early paycheck one of the two boys had received. Chris had eaten light over the last two weeks; his meals had consisted mostly of concession food, with maybe one actual meal tucked in after a battle or training session. Only a few bites into his meal he found his stomach ready to burst. He picked up a glass, saw it had color to it, and immediately sat it back down. He needed water to wash all this food down. Alcohol would have it heading in the opposite direction.
Chris spied a pitcher of water down at the end of the table. He went to ask someone to grab it for him but paused. Standing and moving might be best for his onsetting bloatedness. And at this point, none of the boys between him and that full pitcher were sober enough to move it without spilling most of its contents.
As he slid around David, Chris had to catch his friend's chair as it began to topple backward. "May not want to add to that hangover headache," Chris said, pushing the chair back onto its front legs.
"You're not leaving, are ya?" David asked.
Chris took a moment to look over the debauchery and excess going around the table. "If I begin to feel like my life is at risk, I might. But for now, I think I'll just grab some water."
As Chris scooped up the pitcher, he realized he had forgotten his cup back at his seat. Before he could turn to retrieve it, an empty cup appeared in front of him. He looked up and found Dobbs sitting silently in his seat. Maybe silent wasn't quite the right word. He was throwing back food and alcohol at a pace that normally would have been quite audible, but the bullhorn emergency siren combo of drunk Mitch and David made it hard to hear anything else.
"It's good to see you, Dobbs."
"I bet it is," Dobbs said. He adjusted his glasses and looked up at Chris with ambivalence. "Does our battle still have you waking up in cold sweats?"
"It is crazy to think what could have happened if you had won. Who knows? You may have wound up where I am now."
"Yeah, definitely could have."
"Forreal though man, how have you been?"
"I've been doing a bit better recently," Dobbs said. "Those first couple days were pretty tough though, broski."
Chris nodded, but had to fight to keep his shock from showing. This had to be the first admission of vulnerability he'd heard from the trainer. The Cherrygrove native had often wondered if Dobbs's brain lacked the emotion entirely.
"But I know one battle and one tournament can't define me," he continued. "My team still showed out. Sponsorships have started rolling in. And now with some powerful allies, I feel like the future is wide open."
"Luke had mentioned seeing you and Prinny hanging out more," Chris said. "That's a good partnership right there."
"We've been sharing some trainer tips," Dobbs said with a shrug. He paused to chew a large piece of food he'd apparently tucked behind his right cheek. Then washed it down with a shot of something that was definitely not water. "With my team all being rookies, it's been good to hear from somebody with that extra year or two of experience. He's gotten to see what does and doesn't work in previous tournaments. It would have been nice to link up with him sooner. I think it definitely would have helped me get past you."
"Really?" Chris let his eyebrows raise. "So he's got the game plan to take me out?"
"He's got a few actually."
"Hm." Chris smiled, but he could feel a heat rising around his collar.
"Hey now, fellas," David's attempt to step over turned into a stagger, then a stumble. He grabbed onto the table to keep from falling and Chris waited for the long piece of furniture to topple over. The wooden table shook, but miraculously stayed upright, with only a couple empty glasses toppling over. The miraculous became mundane once Chris caught sight of Mitch's massive upper body plopped onto the opposite side of the table.
David popped back up like nothing had happened. "I just want to remind you two gentlemen this is a no-battle-mentioning zone." David made sure to carefully enunciate those last few words.
Chris placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, both to comfort and to make sure he didn't fall back over. "Don't worry. I was just asking Dobbs about his dates with Prinny."
"Heck naw. Now you've gone too far."
"I knew it!" David said, pounding the table with a fist, and sending a couple more empty glasses toppling over.
"That's not what we were talking about."
"What? You said you two were sharing tips."
Dobbs crossed his arms and leveled a hard stare at Chris, his lips pressing together like he'd just eaten something sour. "Don't go there, broski. We're building a battling coalition."
"There's that b-word again," David said, shaking his head. "I'm going to have to break this convo up. Back to your seat, Mr. Johto."
Chris threw up his hands but did as he was told. Despite his annoyance at having to watch what he said throughout the evening, he appreciated his friend's sentiment. They had been completely inundated with battling for the last couple of weeks. For Chris, it felt like he'd been swept up in this for at least a month. Even if it meant shutting off a big part of his brain, for both his mind and his tense shoulders' sake, it would be a nice respite. And in a more present sense, David deserved thanks anyways for ending that conversation. The direction it had been going would have only served to either agitate Chris or leave him feeling uneasy.
As he made it back to his seat, he found Waz and his dad in the middle of a conversation. It was hard to make out what they were saying with Luke and Mitch screaming their dialogue beside Waz. Once he'd sat down, Chris leaned forward to try and listen in, but a metallic clang to his left overpowered even Mitch's booming voice. David had made it back to his seat, though he still stood, glass and knife in hand.
"Ladies and…" David paused to look around. "Well, actually, I guess we don't have any of those."
"Are those who the two seats were for?" Ben asked, drawing some laughs.
"Mr. Aedan, I appreciate your faith." David lifted his glass. "I want to propose a toast."
Chris went to reach for his water, but found nothing but a two-thirds full glass of alcohol. He looked down the table and found the glass Dobbs had offered him still sitting empty where he'd placed it.
Shit.
"To the boys who are still competing, and to those of you who, like me, have fallen victim to unfortunate circumstances."
"You mean stronger opponents!" Luke called out.
"Fuck you," David said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. With the way he'd begun to slur his words, it wouldn't have fooled anyone if he had. "Anyway… we all deserve a break from training. I mean," he paused to wave a hand toward a windowless wall, "it's fucking dark out there. Only thing you boys would be doing outside of getting in your own heads is playing some long games of chess."
Laughter rolled down both sides of the table. Chris's dad looked around with a confused smile. He finally spoke up as the chuckles subsided. "Our generations may differ on humor, but it's good to hear you younger folks still appreciate the old games."
A loud crack echoed out as Mitch toppled out of his chair in a fit of unrestrained laughter. It wasn't long before the rest of the room had joined him.
My head feels like it's going to pop.
Luke had plenty of sources to blame for that. Maybe it was a hangover from the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed the night before. Or perhaps the lack of sleep that came with partying with David, Mitch, and Dobbs till nearly three in the morning. The latter of that trio he would have never guessed to be such a party animal. It could very well be from the roaring crowd noise that had pierced the barrier to pound his sensitive eardrums for twenty minutes plus. The stress of potentially falling behind four-to-three in this battle could definitely be playing apart. Ultimately though, he knew the real blame lay with himself.
Before his brain had been filled with drunken thoughts, he'd come up with a gameplan with his team he really liked. Of course it leaned into his priority of type matchups—his six teammates could hit every type for super effective damage—and he wanted to rely heavily on some of his veteran teammates now that they were this deep into the tournament. But having seen their opponent battle in the prior round, and in talking with Waz, he had felt confident going with a lineup that prioritized power.
And to Luke's credit, he still felt he'd made the right decision. Both trainers had lost two Pokémon in this glacially paced battle. He hadn't risked looking down at his watch, but Luke would have bet the contest had already surpassed the fifteen minute mark. Switches upon switches. Defensive adjustments galore. His opponent had tried and succeeded several times in using the move Substitute—a tactic that prolonged his teammate's health and the length of the battle. If not for Luke's decision to go with his heavy hitters, they probably wouldn't have even broken through the second substitute by now. He'd lost track of exactly how many of those damn dolls they'd blasted through. What he did know is this most recent substitute had given his opponent's Wigglytuff the chance to burn Electabuzz. And that could have dire consequences for the battle going forward.
Electabuzz's flurry of fists blasted holes in the protective object Wigglytuff had been hiding behind—a truly remarkable feat considering the burns that limited his strength. But the Normal/Fairy-type had vanished, and in his place now stood a tall bird, his long wings and feathered skull hiding much of his appearance. Despite that, Luke still recognized the creature as the Alolan Grass/Ghost-type, Decidueye.
I can't think of a worst matchup for Electabuzz, Luke thought, reaching for his teammate's capture device. Before he could even grab it, the Arrow Quill Pokémon had whipped back one of his massive wings to reveal a chord running from one shoulder to his waist. As the creature drew back his natural quiver, three black arrows materialized and notched themselves there.
"Jump back!" Luke managed to shout as Decidueye loosed the projectiles.
Electabuzz hopped away from the fading substitute as the first arrow arced down and planted itself into the ground. He backpedaled upon landing to avoid the second, but the third arrow lanced down to pierce the Electric-type's shoulder, drawing a bellowing howl from him.
Luke finally pulled Electabuzz's capture device from his jacket and triggered the return mechanism. He stared for a moment, stupefied, as his teammate continued to stagger, with no red light emerging from the Poké Ball or surrounding Electabuzz. Luke squinted and noticed there was an aura around the Electric-type, but this one took the form of a black shroud. That last attack must have been some kind of trapping maneuver, Luke deduced. He glanced back at Decidueye who, with just a couple flaps of his wings, now closed in on Electabuzz.
Luke took a deep breath.
If Electabuzz was going to be trapped, they might as well dish out as much damage as possible. Even with his burns, the Electric-type packed enough raw strength to stagger any opponent. They just needed to land good shots. "Meet him with Thunder Punch!"
As sparks burst from Electabuzz's fists, he lifted one furry paw up to the energized arrow still lodged in his shoulder. With a guttural roar that rose three octaves in his action, he ripped the dark projectile from his body and crushed it in his electrified grip.
Decidueye was upon him now. The creature's other wing had lifted to reveal an arm that now resembled a green blade. As Electabuzz met his swing with a jab, Luke gave a slow nod. The Electric-type then pivoted and snapped his other arm over to swat away the next slice from their opponent's Leaf Blade. That brought a smile to Luke's face. He had no illusions they could outlast a fresher, more resistant opponent, but he damn sure knew one of his oldest teammates would not go down quietly. He would make this bird earn a victory, and he would make it as painful as possible.
Decidueye looked to mitigate that when he stepped back and unleashed Feather Dance. Electabuzz spun through the barrage of whirling feathers meant to lower his attack strength and threw his biggest haymaker yet. On top of the burn he'd already sustained, it would now be impossible for his resisted attacks to land with much impact. That proved to be true as the Grass/Ghost-type shrugged off the blow that struck his chest and drew back his arm to strike.
"Bring the uppercut!" Luke roared.
The opposing trainer, whose soft spoken voice had made it difficult to hear any of his commands, shouted a very clear warning. Decidueye had already committed to his swing though. Luke rose to his tiptoes as both creatures landed their shots simultaneously.
You're going to fucking feel that.
Amidst levity and rest, anxiety and dread still lurk. They can come from a Pokémon battle or from unforeseen circumstances in life. Several stories now drip with this tension. What awaits Seth? Will Luke's run end here? How about Waz's? And how goes Sarah's quest for justice? Let's find out in our next chapter of Heart and Soul!
Now that summer is here, I'm so excited to get back in a normal writing routine. I hope to see you guys again soon!
Please drop a review and follow/favorite if you are enjoying. I'll see you in the next installment. Take care!