Hey Guys, back with another chapter after a long weekend! As always, thanks be to everyone for stopping by and giving my writing a chance!
So, the next few chapters might be a little slower getting out! I had a really busy week and weekend, so my usual reservoir of chapters is running a little low. It'll all depend on how much writing time I end up having during this week.
Otherwise, please enjoy the next chapter!
Malic's eyes narrowed as he spotted the tan satchel hanging from a low branch, three Pokeballs glinting on the strap. "That bag belongs to Professor Birch. Something's wrong. Even if he's familiar with these woods, I doubt he would go anywhere without at least a Pokemon."
Malic glanced at Regulus, who remained slumped on Malic's shoulder. Regulus had been quite perceptive thus far, and if he wasn't reacting, Malic would assume that their surroundings were safe for the time being. He turned to a slightly paler May and motioned with his hand. "Come on, we need to get closer, see if we can figure out where Birch went."
May whimpered but followed, and as they drew closer, Regulus tensed. Malic froze, May nearly bumping into him. After listening for a few seconds, Malic heard a faint sound—low, guttural growls from somewhere ahead. He slowed his pace, May nearly clinging to his back as they crept forward.
"What is that?" she asked, her voice wavering.
Malic didn't answer, slowly advancing, tracking the sound. It didn't seem like it was focused on them, but it did get louder as he got closer to the hanging bag. Only once he had come within a few feet could Malic see a slope off to the side. He cautiously approached the edge, the ground sharply dipping into a small ravine.
There, sitting on a tree limb like a particularly large Skwovet, was Professor Birch. His lab coat was dirt-streaked and torn in places, and twigs poked out of his beard and hair, but he looked relatively unharmed. The real issue was what lay below him: three Poochyena circling the tree's base, their eyes locked on the professor as they prowled about. Occasionally one would jump up, teeth clicking onto empty air.
Malic retreated from the edge. The Poochyena below were a problem. Malic had seen Slakoth easily handle two, but three would probably be pushing it. He turned to May, who looked more than a little rattled as the growls and snarls continued. "W-well, what's going on?"
"The professor is down there. He's safe for now, but he's been treed by a group of Poochyena."
"Well, can't you take care of them? I mean, they're only Poochyena."
Malic shook his head. "If it was only one or two, maybe I'd feel more confident. But there are at least three, maybe more if the rest of their pack is nearby. I can't risk sending Regulus in by himself."
May nodded, swallowing hard. "O-Okay, but what do we do? It's not like I have a Pokémon to help!"
Malic's gaze flicked back to the bag hanging from the branch. Three Pokéballs were strapped to its side, their surfaces glinting faintly in the dappled light filtering through the trees. "You're going to have one in a moment," Malic said. "That bag has Professor Birch's starter Pokémon, the same ones you were supposed to choose from back at the lab. You'll pick one and use it to help me fight off the Poochyena."
May's eyes widened. "You mean… I have to choose my first Pokémon right now?"
"This isn't exactly the time to get picky," Malic replied, his tone flat but urgent. "Just grab one and be ready."
He didn't give her time to overthink it. While May hesitated, clearly torn between excitement and fear, Malic slipped closer to the bag and unhooked it from the branch. He handed it to her and walked back to the ridge, peeking over to monitor the situation.
May fumbled with the bag for a moment, her fingers hovering over the Pokeballs. Eventually, she grabbed the middle one, holding it in a white-knuckle grip. "I… I think this one will do," she stammered as she joined Malic near the edge.
"Good," Malic said, his mind already forming a plan. "Have you battled before?"
"Yeah, a bit. More like training battles. How about you?" May looked hopeful for some reason. Didn't he say he was a new trainer?
"Technically, this will be my second battle, though Regulus took care of things on his own in the first one.
"Wait a second! We're complete rookies with almost no battle experience, and you want us to take on a group of angry wild Pokemon by ourselves?" May squeaked out, and almost in unison, the three Poochyena swerved to look up directly at them.
Malic sighed, sliding Regulus down off his shoulders. "Well, I had a plan, but we'll have to improvise now. Call out your Pokemon. Hopefully, they have some sort of ranged attack. Otherwise, either we'll have to go to them, or wait for them to work their way up here."
The Poochyena had shrunk into crouches, barking and snarling at Malic and May. They seemed content to stay where they were for the time being.
May opened the Pokeball, white light shooting out to form a tiny, round, orange chick Pokémon with bright, flame-colored feathers, beady black eyes, and a tuft of downy yellow fluff atop its head. The easily recognizable Torchic radiated warmth from its body like a living flame and looked up at May with big black eyes.
May's eyes sparkled with delight the moment she laid eyes on Torchic. The little orange chick stood proudly before her, feathered crest bouncing enthusiastically as it chirped a cheerful greeting. May couldn't help but smile as she knelt down, holding out her hand. Torchic nuzzled against her fingers, its warmth radiating through her palm.
"Hello there, aren't you just adorable! My name's May, and I could really use your help Torchic. Think you're up for that?"
The Torchic cheeped and nodded so hard it almost knocked itself over. Malic sent a quick prayer of thanks up to Arceus that the starter May had chosen was cooperating, especially now. The Poochyena, seeing the appearance of another Pokemon, decided on the more proactive approach and were making their way up the slope.
"May, I hope you know how to handle that Torchic. They'll be up here any second. Regulus, when I give the signal, flood the area in front of you with Yawn." Regulus nodded, the Slakoth relaxed but ready.
As May talked with the Torchic, Malic kept an eye on the Poochyena. Their stubby legs were surprisingly adept at propelling them up the rocky slope. Malic waited until he could almost feel their breath before jumping back. "Now, Regulus!"
At Malic's command, Regulus released a stream of pink-tinted bubbles that drifted a foot or so off the ground. The Yawn bubbles swayed above the edge just as the Poochyena charged up. They caught the first two; their snarls faltered, eyes blinking sluggishly as the effects began to take hold, but the third one had been trailing behind just enough to react and sidestep the Yawn.
The first two pushed through the haze, moving with noticeably less coordination.
"Now's your chance, May," Malic shouted, stepping back even more. He needed to get a good view and be far back enough that he wouldn't get pulled into the fight. This was a battle between Pokemon, and he could only help Regulus navigate it.
May snapped her focus to the Poochyena, Torchic hopping eagerly in front of her. "Torchic, let's show them what we've got! Use Ember on the closest one!"
A burst of tiny flames erupted from Torchic's mouth, shooting toward the Poochyena. Already disoriented from the Yawn, the lead Poochyena was unable to dodge the Ember as it popped against its side like firecrackers. The force of the attack sent it tumbling back, its paws catching the lip of the ravine for a moment before it continued tumbling down.
The remaining two Poochyena locked onto Torchic with renewed aggression. They lunged forward, one faster than the other, teeth bared. They approached from either side, aiming to overwhelm the little Fire-type. Fortunately, Torchic wasn't alone in this fight.
"Regulus, Scratch!"
Slakoth's claw-tipped arm swiped out deceptively fast, slicing against the flank of one of the Poochyena and sending it to a stumbling tumble. The remaining Poochyena continued its charge towards Torchic, lunging forward with jaws agape.
"Torchic, jump!" May called out, her voice shaking as the Dark-type's fangs shone in the sunlight.
Torchic obeyed instantly, springing upward a surprising height, clearing the attempted Bite and landing behind the Poochyena.
Malic couldn't afford to pay much attention to May's fight; he had to focus. Regulus was being circled. Poochyena, slightly limping, growled low in its throat. It was cautious now, fainting over and over, testing the reactions of Regulus. Normally this would have worked, several of the fake charges real enough that, against anything but a Slakoth, they would have provoked at least a flinch or a shift in positioning. But Regulus just stood in place, lightly swaying and following the circling Poochyena with his eyes. He would slowly turn, making sure to keep the Poochyena somewhat in front of him.
"No Torchic!" May's scream was impossible to ignore. Malic turned, and his heart sank.
Poochyena loomed over Torchic, jaw tightly wrapped around it as Poochyena flung it around like a chew toy. May was pale, hands over her mouth and trembling, but Malic could still hear Torchic's cheeps. It was still in the fight. "May, snap out of it! You need to help Torchic!" Malic's words didn't seem to reach her, and May continued to stand there, almost catatonic.
"Regulus, we have to finish this quickly—"
Malic watched in disbelief as a Poochyena clambered up the cliff again, fur singed and dusty. It stalked towards Regulus, circling him opposite the other. Now, when one would charge in front of Regulus, the other would charge from behind. Regulus did well fending them off, the range of his flexible arms letting him keep up, but glancing blows snuck in. A fang here, a shoulder charge there, the two Poochyena worked together seamlessly, primal cruelty glinting in their eyes.
Malic had to do something. He couldn't throw himself into the mix, that was just asking for trouble, and he wasn't an idiot. But he had no other Pokemon, and Torchic was barely hanging on. May's tear-stained face overlapped for a second with the terrified visage of Cherie he had seen in the forest. This was just like when he had been facing the Copperajah. He might not have been close to May, but anyone with half a brain and eyes could see she was scared, overwhelmed, and needed help. Maybe it was the big brother in him but seeing her like that brought his blood to a boil.
Turning his attention back to Regulus, Malic forced his mind to focus. How could he even out this fight? There were two Poochyena. One was injured by Slakoth's Scratch, but the other was more so from the tumble down the cliff and Torchic's Ember. So, it should be easier to take out. But how could he give Regulus the breathing room to go one-on-one with it?
Malic coughed as dust once again flew into his face, the scrabbling feet of Poochyena kicking up the loose soil coating the top of the cliff. The air was thick with it, enough to give a slight tint to the air. Malic had to squint to see, and Regulus seemed similarly impaired, arms moving slower as time passed. But the Poochyena were still dead on every time, bravely bolting full speed and ignoring the thickening cloud forming around Regulus. Slowly, an idea began piecing itself together.
Poochyena were definitely aggressive, and with a pair of them, they seemed more confident. And that would be their undoing, "Regulus, I want you to use Scratch on the ground!" Malic's call was met with a head tilt by Slakoth. "I know it sounds weird, but do you remember our strategy for the Copperajah?" A look of understanding slowly dawned on Regulus's face, his eyes opening fully for a moment before returning to their half-lidded state and nodding. "Kick up as much dust as you can, and when I say so, let loose in a circle around you."
Regulus immediately went to work, sharp claws digging into the ground and throwing clawfuls of dirt and dust into the air. The area around him grew increasingly obscured until all that could be seen was a hazy outline of him through the floating debris. The Poochyena had shied back from the sudden burst of movement but quickly regained their nerve. They charged, their raspy barks growing muted as they ran into the dust cloud. "Now Regulus! As many as you can!"
The Poochyena had kicked up even more dust in their rush, so much so that Malic couldn't make heads or tails of the situation unfolding in the dust. All he could do was wait for the dust to settle.
May was drowning.
Her doubts had broken through the veneer of self-conscience and flooded her brain, confirming what she knew to be true; she wasn't cut out for this. From the moment she decided to become a trainer, those nagging thoughts had always been there. She could never be as skilled as her dad, the revered Gym Leader of Petalburg. She couldn't be as brilliant as Max, who always won their mock battles. She couldn't be as confident as her mom, who juggled managing the gym with being a fantastic parent. Compared to them, what did she have to offer? A girl who liked daydreaming more than studying, who faltered when things got rough, who liked the idea of a journey more than actually doing it.
She had tried to be brave like her dad said. But here, in the heat of an actual battle, she wasn't strong enough. She wasn't decisive enough. She was nothing more than a pretender, a fake, and others were paying the price.
Her heart pounded in her chest, each thud condemning her. Tears blurred the world around her, the snarling Poochyena and the clashing Pokémon fading into a haze as her vision tunneled. Her hands trembled, clenching and unclenching, fingers twitching with a mind of their own. She couldn't breathe. Air wouldn't flow.
What am I doing here? I'm just getting in the way… Torchic doesn't deserve this. Malic doesn't deserve to be stuck with me. I'm useless.
Then, cutting through the storm of self-doubt, she heard a pained but determined cry. Again and again, it rang out, pulling at her heart until she had to look.
Torchic. It stood between her and the advancing Poochyena, its small, battered body trembling but still holding its ground. The little Fire-type was covered in dirt and blood, feathers ruffled and missing in large patches. But its eyes blazed with a fierce resolve that May hadn't seen before. Torchic was hurt, badly hurt, but it refused to back down. Even as the Poochyena circled closer, growling menacingly, Torchic stayed firm.
"T-Torchic…" May's voice wavered, thick with emotion. Why was it protecting her? How could this little Pokémon, who barely knew her, be so brave? Torchic should be afraid, should be cowering just like she was, but instead, it was fighting—fighting for her.
The Poochyena lunged, teeth bared, aiming to finish the weakened Torchic off. But Torchic, despite its injuries, dodged with a desperate burst of energy and countered with a feeble Scratch, swiping at the Poochyena's nose. The attack barely did any damage, but it was enough to force the wild Pokémon back a step. Torchic staggered, nearly collapsing from the effort, but it stabilized, breathing heavily as it locked eyes with the Poochyena.
Something snapped inside May. Watching Torchic struggle, putting everything on the line to protect her, evaporated the flood of self-pity. Torchic wasn't giving up—not on her or this fight. How could she sit there, frozen and useless, when this Pokémon was doing so much?
No. May was done wallowing. Just because it wasn't easy for her doesn't mean she couldn't do it. She couldn't let her own fear keep her from doing what needed to be done. Torchic trusted her, even when she didn't trust herself. She didn't deserve it, not now. But that only meant she would make it up to the little Pokemon and prove she was worthy of it someday.
With a newfound determination, May wiped away her tears, her grip tightening on the Pokéball in her hand. "Torchic, I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice trembling but growing stronger with each word. "You've been giving it your all, and I just sat here watching you get hurt. But I'm done with that. You protected me, you helped me, and it's time I returned the favor."
May took a deep breath, pushing aside the lingering fear. It was still there, and she could feel her hands still shaking slightly. But, for the first time, May didn't feel overwhelmed. Because Torchic needed her, she wouldn't let it down.
"Let's do this, Torchic!" May shouted.
Professor Birch watched the Poochyena scatter up the cliff, ears pricked, and tails fluffed. The sight of them leaving brought a wave of relief, but it was quickly replaced by the sharp throb of soreness in his arms and legs. Birch winced as he carefully eased himself down from the tree, a dull ache protesting every move he made. His hands were scraped, his coat was a mess, and his pride had taken a beating, but at least he was in one piece.
He took a deep breath and glanced up at the cliff above him, his bag swaying in the breeze, taunting him. He was just about to start seeing if he could take a less direct way up the slope when he heard faint but urgent voices echoing down. Birch's eyes widened as he recognized the sounds of battle, the distinct commands of trainers directing their Pokémon. A Poochyena tumbled down the cliff, claws digging in and stopping it about halfway down. It growled and began to slowly make its way back up, a scorch mark on its side.
Considering there were no trainers stationed in Littleroot aside from himself and the occasional Ranger squad, there were a select few people who could be battling up there. Against a few Poochyena, the Rangers would have already sent them running off. Which left traveling trainers, probably from Oldale or Petalburg, or…
Without wasting another moment, Birch began scrambling up the slope, gripping onto exposed roots and rocks to pull himself higher. He knew it probably was fine, but if it wasn't, that it wasn't somewhat experienced trainers up there, he needed to help. His body protested, every slip of his feet sending loose pebbles tumbling below, but he kept going, his worry spurring him on faster with each passing second.
As he reached the top, breathless and covered in dirt, Birch's gaze immediately locked onto the scene before him. Malic stared at a pair of circling Poochyena, his Slakoth in the center, while a brown-haired girl had fallen to her knees, eyes glossy and distant as a slightly larger Poochyena continued to bully a dishevled Torchic.
Birch pulled himself up, snatching the remaining two Pokéballs from the bag strap. Mudkip and Treecko, two extra Pokemon could make the difference. He could step in now, end the fight decisively, and save these stupid kids from further danger. His finger hovered over the release buttons for the Pokeballs.
"Regulus, I want you to use Scratch on the ground!" Birch froze. Despite the odds, it seems that Malic hadn't given up. "I know it sounds weird, but do you remember our strategy for the Copperajah?"
Birch watched as Malic had Slakoth create a Smokescreen of sand. He tensed again when the Poochyena raced into the cloud of dust, but Malic seemed unconcerned, keeping his gaze on the slowly thinning cloud of dirt.
Birch turned to the girl, Mudkip's ball nearly leaving his hand, but stopped again as he saw the girl, who had been frozen in fear moments ago, standing tall with Torchic at her side. There was a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there before.
"Torchic, use Ember!"
The little chick Pokemon spewed an impressive amount, the small flecks of fire brighter than Birch had seen before. The Poochyena yelped as a few popped against its snout and chest, sending the Dark type tumbling back.
"Great job, Torchic! We must keep him at a distance, so use Ember whenever he gets too close." Torchic cheeped in agreement, and as the Poochyena was pulling itself back to its feet, Torchic let out a war cry–too cute to be intimidating–and sent another volley of EmberEmber, which sent the Poochyena tumbling away once more.
Turning back to Malic's battle, the dust had cleared. Slakoth was still in the middle of circling Poochyena, but they were off. Their heads kept dipping, their steps clumsy. Out of the corner of his eye, Birch spotted a small pink bubble right before it popped against a nearby tree. Malic must have used the dust to disguise the Yawn bubbles, and the Poochyena ran right into them. Malic had turned the battle into a war of attrition on both sides, putting the Poochyena on a time limit.
Birch felt a strange sensation in his chest, a mix of pride and something else, something he hadn't felt since he was a trainer himself. It was telling him that this moment was critical, not just for the kids but for the bond they were forging with their Pokémon. Intervening now would rob them of that. It would be easier, yes, but it wouldn't give them the chance to overcome this challenge on their own, to prove to themselves that they had what it took to be real trainers. So, he would wait and let them succeed or fail on their own. Of course, the second it went wrong, he was stepping in regardless.
"Come on, you can do this," Birch whispered under his breath, watching Torchic's Ember falter, pain lancing across its face. The Poochyena broke into a half-run, but Torchic rallied with the biggest Ember spray yet and sent the Poochyena tumbling nose over tail before it slumped to the ground.
Regulus moved efficiently, wasting little energy, but every move was precise. Each charge of the Poochyena was rebuffed with a Scratch, Slakoth's arms moving like whips. Malic didn't say much, something quite odd in new trainers. Usually, they tried to micromanage their Pokemon battles. Still, Malic had already figured out one of the biggest hurdles a starting trainer faces: trust your Pokemon and guide them, not order them.
Eventually, one side had to give. One Poochyena, still groggy from the Yawn, hesitated for just a moment too long—long enough for Regulus to land a decisive Scratch, the force lifting the Poochyena off the ground for a moment before gravity sent it crashing back down.
The other Poochyena tried to capitalize as Regulus showed his back to it, but Malic was a step ahead.
"Lean back and Scratch again!"
The Slakoth leaned backward, body contorting until its head touched the ground, belly to the sky. The Poochyena flew over where it had been, and Slakoth whipped up a Scratch that seemed more like a Sky Uppercut into the Poochyena's stomach. It, too, flew for a short bit before slamming down and staying down.
It was finally over. They had won.