"Don't worry, Froggy, your owner will return for you in a week. Until then, he's entrusted my partner and me to mold you into the best Frogadier you can be."
"Greetings, brown-haired human. Would you happen to know where the nearest food bowl is located? Alas, I am tardy for second breakfast!"
She chuckled, patting him on the head, not understanding a word he said. Typical ground-walker. It was just like with his blue-haired master. That bumbling fool never had any idea what Katagiri was trying to say. "Okay…" The female human brought him into a room at the end of the cave path. "I'm going to measure your specs, Katagiri. Please remain calm. It'll only take a second."
"I am a fancy boy, human. Fear not."
Inside the rocky little abode, a nice place for a nap he thought, were various contraptions, tables, boxes, lights, and so many new smells. The young Frogadier honed in on the several immured Pokémon. Their cages were hardly large enough to accomodate sprinting, he observed with trepidation.
She set him down gently on a metal square against one rocky wall and pointed a device at him that looked not unlike Ryan's Dex thing. A bright light flashed, and he tasted bubbles. Blinking in confusion, Katagiri felt himself being picked up again.
A ferocious-looking terror in the nearest cage, its eyes glinting gold, hissed, "Aw, look at the newbie. He's shaking. What a disgrace. I'll be coming for you, newbie. Just wait till she lets us out…"
The human did not detect that peevish lout's treason. She's a slow one, like all of them are. Someone was banging on his cage walls, begging for food. Katagiri's belly rumbled. It was cold, but still his heart was beating quick; he felt within him a rising sense of anxiety. Most of all, he missed the comfort of master's backpack. I just know she won't let me sleep whenever I want.
"Well, Katagiri, I'm impressed. You're already level 20."
He knew that, of course, having leveled up that very morning against some random feathery pleb who'd ambushed him from the bushes. "Thank you, thank you, now can I get my lunch?"
"And you're a Protean Frogadier to boot. Do you know what that means?"
"Of course I do, tall human female. Excellent observation indeed. I am my master's favorite, of course."
She patted him again. "Every move you ever use will get the same-type-attack-bonus, or STAB. This means that every single move you use during battle will be 50% more powerful than normal. You're lucky, Katagiri. Protean is a relatively rare ability for your species. You must have come from a Pokémon Breeder. Is that right?"
His first memory, a memory he cherished as much as mid-afternoon brunch, had been of his master waving around Dex, shouting, Open your eyes, you robotic dummy!, gleefully. It had been the morning of the final match of the Indigo League–a match Ryan went on to win somehow. A hipster dufus though he was, Katagiri's master had achieved a remarkable result that day, no doubt due to the good luck of him being born just then. He had gotten to watch the battle from the friends-and-family stands, and later, Ryan's Alakazam (who strangely, uniquely amongst all of Ryan's Pokémon companions, lacked a nickname) had told him all about the elimination rounds leading up to that battle, and the grand showdowns the boy and his loyal six had endured against the Elite 4 and reigning Indigo League Champion (which all took place in the bowels of a mansion Katagiri had not been allowed inside of).
He was the first Pokémon Ryan had raised not native to Kanto, though he was by no means the last. Still, he felt a sense of desire, a thirst that could never be quenched, so to speak, by the fact that he was the first of his master's companions to not aid him in his Indigo League championship. He much desired to help Ryan achieve another championship, but the teenager hardly seemed interested in such things anymore. After he'd won the Indigo League, they had spent a long vacation on the warm beaches of the Sevii Islands, which had been rather nice, and Katagiri had even evolved from his juvenile form into his adolescent one after defeating a wild Gligar for his master during that trip. That Gligar–whom his master had named Gothmog–was now a member of the active team, along with graceful Thurnax the Dragonite, Ammu the Mareanie (whom he had totally beaten too, when she'd been a wild one), Vorian, that vicious, yet technically-skilled Scizor, and the newest member, caught only earlier that day, Little Kramer, the Combusken.
Thurnax alone remained from Ryan's Indigo League team, and she was by far his strongest companion. He felt trickles of jealousy spread, but tried to ignore them. Ryan was good to his Pokémon, despite his oblivious nature. The boy had given him a Luxury Ball to live in, and yet had not forced him into it often. He especially enjoyed the company of Katagiri, and Katagiri especially enjoyed the company of Ryan. Life was good; the Pokémon was satisfied. He was yet young, new to the ways of fighting, but he was not the weakest link–not anymore. He knew for a fact that Gothmog and Little Kramer were weaker than him, and ever since he had evolved into his Frogadier form, he had known that he was stronger than Ammu too.
I'm a Protean Frogadier, he daydreamed. Next up, Vorian. And after him, Thurnax. Someday soon, I'll be number one!
Katagiri vaguely remembered that her name was Hilda. Remembering the various complicated names of humans had always been a tough task for this Bubble Frog Pokémon, so he was quite pleased with himself. "Uh… Katagiri, are you still with me, little guy?"
"Surely I am, lady!"
"We have merely a week to get this done, so I need to begin your training now. Are you ready?"
"Oh yes, yes, after second breakfast of course."
"Good, so we'll begin."
I keep forgetting she can't understand a word I say. Curses. A pox on all of humankind for not inventing Pokémon translators yet. "Can't I get a bite to eat before–"
"You have excellent moves for your level," she interrupted, carrying him out of that room, down the long, dank, cold-festering tunnel again, her voice echoing off the rocks.
Shadows danced along the outcrops and boulders, and Katagiri was enthralled. He loved the look of shadow monsters; ever since he'd been a wee lad (and he still was, to be fair), he'd encountered such creatures on the edges of dreams, as sleep paralysis had shaken his body (oftentimes in the cozy darkness of Ryan's backpack). He had never been afraid of them. Curiosity had always gotten the better of Katagiri. He liked to stare and look and he realized from an early age that for some reason, all of his monsters seemed to be Grass or Electric type.
"I have to assume Ryan gave you Ice Beam through a TM spray. Is that correct?"
"How'd you know that?! Were you reading my memories, human?" He didn't know if humans could do that, but certainly, neither Ryan nor that airhead who followed him around possessed such an ability.
"I see. You're a lucky Frogadier, Katagiri. Your owner takes good care of you. Toxic is a TM as well. Those are both excellent moves. And since you are a Protean Frogadier, your ability to use Toxic–which is otherwise a semi-unreliable move–will never be in doubt. You will never miss with that attack unless you aren't even trying. Poison-type Pokémon never do."
"Cool. So how about second breakfast?"
"From what I've gathered, your IVs are all in order. I haven't been able to get a reading on your nature yet, but that will come in time, after you've completed the entry-level tests. But anyways, what we really need to focus on is getting you comfortable in battle, help you develop synchronicity with your trainer, and build up your EVs. My tests indicated that you have very few EVs as of right now, so fixing that will be our number one priority going forward."
He had no clue what an EV was, but he knew how to stick to a wall like it was nothing. "What are you talking about, woman? What's that got to do with anything?"
Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light. Electric torches were placed along the path at wide intervals, leaving vast pools of darkness on all sides. Half of Hilda's face was covered in shadows, finally rousing Katagiri's interests. "I need to know what exactly you're good at. Is it Attack? Special Attack? Defense? Special Defense? Or Speed?"
"You gotta go faster if you want to keep up with me," the Frogadier remarked coolly. He really enjoyed being carried around like a king. She could have forced him to hop after her, so the VIP treatment was much appreciated. Katagiri pretty much loved nothing more than to be lazy and feel good, which he knew was odd and not a sentiment shared by more than 1% of the population.
"I won't know until I run some more tests. So, how about it? Are you ready?"
"I much desire second breakfast!" Katagiri croaked. "I'm utterly famished, human, can't you see?"
They had come to a stop outside of another door. She opened it, and at once, floodlights flared into existence. His eyes watering, he had to blink many times to adjust his perception. It's even colder in here. They must only live here because they're too lazy to find somewhere warmer. If they knew how blissfully warm the Sevii Islands are, I'm sure neither this human nor the Pokémon she's training would want to remain in this awful place.
Indeed, he too wanted to leave, and he'd hardly been here half an hour.
"First, I'm going to put this on you. I hope you don't mind. It shouldn't feel uncomfortable." Hilda reached into her pocket and brought out a little blue cylinder that was hollow in middle. "This is a Power Anklet. Wearing it will help you achieve Speed EVs at a faster rate. Speed is one of your most important traits as a Frogadier. You're going to be a quick fighter. Your role on Ryan's team will be to act as a sweeper–a speedy juggernaut who takes down numerous opponents after everything's been set up for you. So, regardless of if you specialize in Special Attack or physical Attack, you will need to max out your speed trait early on. Our first tests will deal with this. Do you understand, Katagiri?"
"That sounds wonderful, but when is feeding time? Ryan fed me breakfast on the train, but that was a late breakfast, and I wouldn't be surprised if it were dinnertime by now. I'm owed at least five meals. I would like them all served together, please and thank you."
"Very good boy. You seem eager. I like your energy!" She attached the anklet to his left ankle and placed him on the cold stone floor.
The Frogadier looked around sheepishly. This isn't the kitchen. "Mmmm… huh? Hold on, human, where are we?"
"I want you to run this obstacle course as fast as you can. It doesn't matter if you get tired, feel short of breath, or get hurt by an obstacle or two. I don't want you to slow down for anything. Understand me, Frogadier?" Her tone had become noticeably deeper, sharp as an icicle.
"Sure…"
"Use your intuition to react. You won't have time to think about how to dodge the obstacles or how best to move through them. You simply need to sprint through the course. Show me what you can do!"
He felt anxious again. Ahead, there were a series of platforms, ropes, ladders, spikes, potholes, barriers, walls, and so much other jive that Katagiri's mind started spinning. I can do this easy. Ryan didn't even need to teach me how to jump from his bed to the TV in the Sevii hotel. That was all instinct. His anxiety evaporated; confidence replaced the emptiness within Katagiri. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out, chewing on bubbles.
Pulling out a whistle from her pocket and blowing it, Hilda urged him onward. He didn't hesitate. Bounding down the path, Katagiri kept his eyes peeled, building his speed as fast as he could. He couldn't even feel the anklet; he felt light as air.
A pillar of flame erupted before him. Shocked, he hopped aside at the last moment, barely avoiding getting roasted up real good. Then, another pillar of flames shot up from the ground in front of him, and he had to hop out of the way again–this time to the left. This continued a few more times, but already he was getting the hang of it, and he had no trouble dodging out of the way of the fifth, sixth, and seventh fiery pillars.
Up ahead was a wall, but before he reached it, a wall of flames flexed from the ground, blocking his path forward. He couldn't dodge right and he couldn't dodge left–there were flames in all directions. He had to move; he had to keep going. There was no time to stop and warm his bubble scarf by the fire.
The ball of water quickly turned into a wave of sizzling foam as it quenched the fires like a blanket. He was through. Hilda continued to urge him on with her whistle. Suddenly, rocks began spinning at him like falling rain from the darkness, coming from above, behind, and on both sides. Keeping his vision as total as possible, the Frogadier jumped and dove and slid and spun, not letting a single pebble peg him. It wasn't as easy as he had hoped–already he felt his stamina draining–but it wasn't as hard as he had once feared.
There before him was a towering blue wall made of dyed wood. It was at least twenty feet tall, its upper corners just barely visible from the shrouds of darkness emanating from above. He jumped and stuck to it with both hands. Rocks bounced off the wooden face of it on all sides of him. Katagiri began to rise, ignoring the burning in his arms, wrists, and knees. When he slipped, his foot coming loose for a moment, he didn't panic. To panic would be to let go, and he wasn't about to make a fool of himself on his very first day here.
He was up and over the wall after seventeen more blows of the whistle. Landing softly on the other side, catching his breath, Katagiri noticed grimly that he'd have to be very precise with this next run across a rope bridge, for there was an ocean of spikes beneath it. If he fell, he'd be skewered, and that would be the end of this glorious trip, he knew.
Despising failure and pain were two things that drove Katagiri onwards. He also wasn't one to be paralyzed by fear. Letting go of his worries, he sprinted across the rope, pretending there was nothing below it, pretending it was the floor. His hands and feet clung tightly to the rope and he never even slipped.
Next up was a ladder leading up a wall even taller than that last one he'd scaled. Without pausing, Katagiri raced up it, feeling his muscles burn, wincing in pain, slowing ever so, but never giving into those poisonous thoughts urging him to give up. Nah, I'm good. He wanted to burn through this course like no one ever had before.
At the top of the wall, darkness hugging him, Katagiri noticed several floating platforms, each being held up by a mechanical propeller and engine, extending outwards ahead. They were rising even higher into the cave. How high up is the ceiling? He couldn't see it, and didn't have time to calculate such a pedantic thing. Psychically-floating rocks were still being flung at him, and if he wasn't careful, he'd get knocked off. It was a long ways back to the ground.
Leaping with his arms extended, Katagiri landed with a roll onto the first platform, using his momentum to carry him into another pristine jump to the second. Again, he rolled and used the momentum gained from that simple trick to slide across the hovering ice platform, slippery as gunk, to reach the third platform. He noticed with mild terror that each platform had been spread out farther from the previous one. His jumps needed to become more precise and more acrobatic with every platform.
The fourth one was not so hard, but the fifth was a bit of a strain, and the sixth was far enough away that even with all of the momentum he could muster, Katagiri wasn't sure he would make the landing until he did. Then, from the darkness above, a huge boulder dropped, nearly squashing him. Dodging to the side, the Frogadier slid to the edge of the platform, even as half of it was shattered by the giant rock's impact. He had, with a bit of luck, survived that. But now he was in deep trouble. His momentum was gone, and there wasn't enough platform left to get a running start and make the next jump. Heck, he could barely see the next platform from where he was.
Another boulder dropped from the ceiling, punching off another corner. Don't think… just go! Something Alakazam had told him once came to mind in that moment: Ryan knows how to use your talents. Once he's fought with you for a little while, he'll figure it out. He may look like a witless, clumsy fool, but he's got heart, and he's more aware than people give him credit for. I remember one battle during the tournament when it was still three-versus-three. Both NaVorro and Myrrah had been KO'd. It was down to one of us for his tournament life. He chose me, even though I was Abra at the time.
I had regrets–many of them–from my tournaments with Ryan's father. I performed poorly in those for the most part, and was personally responsible for two of his losses. It got to the point where his father would no longer trust me. I wouldn't evolve–I wouldn't help him. I had no chemistry with the man. He chose other Pokémon in my stead. The only thing worse than losing a battle is watching it slip away without getting the chance to make a difference. Ryan allowed me to have the final word, for better or worse. He believed in me, but he knew I could win. I was the perfect counter for Arbok. I defeated him without much of a struggle.
Then I was faced with a Gengar. An Abra is no match for a Gengar, even though I was a higher level than him. I felt an obligation towards Master in that moment. I could not lose–I could not do to him what I had done to his father. I could not fail again. I would not. He gave me the orders for the correct moves, and I evolved to defeat that Gengar. It was something I thought I would never be capable of. I had always been afraid to evolve, for I thought becoming Kadabra would make me entirely different, that the real me would slip away if I gave into that feeling. I wanted to be me, to stay me… but I had to let go to help him win. I had to overcome my own fears to defeat that ghost.
He put me in a situation to succeed. Was it luck? Possibly. But there was too much heart in that choice–I saw this same thing from Ryan over and over again. He never wanted to lose, but he wanted us to win as much as he wanted to win himself. He chose me not only because I was his first Pokémon and he thought I deserved one last go if this was to be it, but because he knew that I had a chance to really do something special. I think he believed more than me that I could evolve, that I could take that next step, and he proved it with the way he coached me in that battle. Don't doubt him. You have no reason to. You know which moves you should use, depending on your opponent's type. He will almost always tell you to perform the move you should–the move you think you should. It's as if he has a psychic bond with all of us. I've never seen anything like it. You have to trust him, have to believe that his intuition and your own are working in congruity.
Alakazam loved to ramble. He had talked Katagiri's ears off on more than thirteen occasions. That entire speech came back to him in that moment, like an inhalation of cold water, and before the third boulder dropped, he was running. The young Frogadier leapt into the air, did a front-flip, and, as hastily as he could manage, shot an Ice Beam into the platform. Ice cracked and tore and puffs of frost went spiraling into the air. The explosion carried him all the way to that last platform. He had to reach out and grip the edge of it to make it, had to flip himself up onto it with all his strength just to dodge another rock missile, but in the end, he'd done it.
Panting, he looked for the next platform when the one he was standing on shattered beneath his feet without warning. Suddenly, he was free-falling.
Icy shards shot up at him as Katagiri sailed down. That was unnatural. This is part of the test, the Water Pokémon realized.
His neck was no longer freezing. Katagiri swam through the air, feeling his movements before he enacted them, reacting to what was around him as if in a trance, his dexterity surprising even him. Rocks and energy chunks whizzed through the air, yet he cut around them like he was tracing a finger through sand, dodging all the snoozing Krabbys like a pro.
Spitting bubbles, their impact against the ground creating a sonic echo that slowed his descent, Katagiri landed softly. Looking around, he noticed the rocks had stopped pursuing him like angry Beedrill. His little lungs were expanding and contracting at record pace.
"Adequate," Hilda spoke, suddenly appearing from the darkness behind him. "That's the fastest any Pokémon has completed that course in months. And certainly no Frogadier has ever done it so quickly as far as I'm aware. Really, that wasn't bad at all. How are you feeling?"
"I'm so hungry I could eat a Horsea!"
"Well, don't get too confident. Your initiation isn't complete yet, Katagiri." She blew her whistle again, and from behind her came a Pokémon. Son of Heqet! This isn't fair! I'm all out of stamina, human. Why are you so cruel to me? I didn't think such injustice would be your style.
Its body was mostly green, although its face and beak were beige. The crown of its head was a mushroom, and its tail was long with a cluster of green spores on the tip. He had no clue what this species was called, as he had never encountered it before. Most of the species he was aware of were ones he had either battled or seen in Ryan's Dex. A Grass Type. Like out of my nightmares. Why me?
"Sup," Katagiri spoke naïvely, bowing to obscure how out-of-breath he truly was. "I'm Katagiri, what's your name?"
"Shut yo' mouth, frog! D'Adrianna ain't got no time for dat sass mouth, mhmm!"
"M-my… excuse me?"
"Katagiri, this is D'Adrianna. D'Adrianna, this is Katagiri. You are our two newest recruits. To complete your initiation, you will duel without your trainers telling you which moves to use. You're going to have to come up with that on your own, alright? Good. Now, let us begin. Good luck, and may the best Pokémon win!"
I'm a Protean Frogadier, I'm the best! "Good luck!" he chirped impulsively.
"Bow before your sensei!" D'Adrianna screamed, clicking her beak annoyingly. "Bow before your sensei!"
Perplexed, Katagiri nevertheless showed her some measure of respect. "So, what kind of Pokémon are you?" he asked.
"The kind who eats frogs for breakfast and digests them before lunch! Now, watch this, little kid. Ahh, yeah! It's time for my Mega Drain!"
She has to be a Grass Type. She really looks like one. That means she must be weak to… "Ice Beam!"
Katagiri had no idea why he was yelling the name of his attack, but he kind of wanted to know what it felt like to be Ryan for a moment. Needless to say, such a moment was a horrible moment, the worst moment, a moment he would forget before supper, and he was thankful that in the next moment, he was Katagiri again. He liked being Katagiri. Being the human in these battles always seemed so dreadfully dull.
His beam of ice formed at the tip of his fingers, radiating pale, murky light before forming into a slender bullet and whooshing off from his grasp like an errant bubble. D'Adrianne was taken in the belly by it, and went down grunting to an embarrassing degree.
"Ooh, that hurt! Ooh, you little coward! How dare you give my spores frostbite?! Y'all better watch me now, honey. Now I'm mad, mhmm. I'm real mad!"
Her energy attack was green and yellow and pulsing with sheer power. He could hear its buzz from where he stood. This is my test. I have to dodge… He was so tired. That last Ice Beam had taken a lot out of him, and to be honest, he was more than a little surprised to see his foe absorb a super effective attack, especially from a Protean Frogadier, and survive to tell the tale. Yes, she appeared wounded by it, but she wasn't going down that easily. It would take another Ice Beam or two at least, and he wasn't sure he had that much energy left.
D'Adrianne fired her Mega Drain. Katagiri feinted to the left, drawing the energy to him, then, with all his agility, hopped to the right, using the ground as his springboard, sailing through the air. It was with horror he realized that his opponent's energy beam was homing in on him still.
As soon as he landed, he tried to spin out of the oncoming attack, but it was too late. He was wrapped up in it, covered, burned, sapped of his strength, and thrown to the cold floor. A wispy trail of green energy floated up from his bruised and battered body and returned to D'Adrianne, replenishing her health.
"Thanks. It wasn't much, heh, but some's better than none, that's for sure."
That sneer was hideous. He couldn't look away. He couldn't move his body. This was like sleep paralysis, only his limbs ached and burned and felt heavy. I… failed…
"That'll do," Hilda said, blowing her whistle again for no good reason (as far as young Katagiri could tell). "D'Adrianne, return to your room. Qiang will meet you there shortly."
"As you wish, ma'am," the Grass Pokémon replied cordially, bowing before spinning on her heels, the corner of her eye gleaming with arrogance, and marching off, her chest out, her tail held high.
"Get up," she said coldly to him.
"I can't!"
The human measured him with her remote device again. Katagiri's body was covered in goosebumps. "You're at 3% health. You can get up. Follow me. I need to show you to your quarters."
"But it hurts all over!"
"Get up, or you'll have to run this course again before you get any rest!"
She was suddenly terrifying, and he was obeying her with swiftness he didn't know he still possessed. She was so friendly before. What happened? The Bubble Frog Pokémon wanted to blame her human nature on that one, but he knew, in the furthest reaches of his tiny, worn-out heart, that it was because he had shown himself to be a failure. He shivered, following her back to the tunnel, his head bowed. Nobody like losing, and nobody liked losers.
It was no surprise, really. Humans were no different than Pokémon in that regard. His master would be so disappointed in him. Katagiri blinked away the tears and was grateful at least that Hilda never once turned around to face him, lest she see how truly weak this Protean Frogadier was.
Kelly, Ryan, and Logan were told by the hotel owner, a portly, chinless man with sallow, oily skin, the next morning that a snowstorm had come to town and that they wouldn't be able to go outside again until it passed.
The snow had piled up so high that the windows of each room on the first floor were totally covered. No one could get in or out–not that there were many people checked in to the hotel at present. Indeed, aside from the teenagers, there was only a group of high-stakes poker players sitting around a table in the corner of the lobby, shuffling chips and wearing sunglasses despite being indoors (because they didn't trust their own eyes), and a single boy sitting at the bar on a stool watching television.
"I'm sorry… there's nothing I can do. Nobody controls the weather," the owner said apologetically to them.
"Not according to Jesse Ventura," Ryan replied.
"Who?"
Kelly rolled her eyes. "Exactly. Anyways, do you at least have an idea as to how long this storm will last?"
"Not a clue, Miss. I'm sorry. Look…" he said, pulling some slips of paper out of his back pocket, "have some complimentary meals on the house. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but there's nothing to be done."
"Do these come with free drinks?"
"Oh yes, of course. Free refills until midnight."
Kelly smirked. "Well alright then. Thanks."
Once the man had left, they found a table and sat down together. Ryan held his Combusken's Poké Ball between his hands, pondering what to do next. "Why don't I just have Little Kramer use his fire attacks to melt all the snow?"
"He'd run out of stamina long before that was possible. He's not even a Blaziken yet, Ryan."
"We could try at least. I have some potions that could help…"
Logan concurred with Kelly. "It's still snowing, bro. Kramer doesn't have a chance in HFIL to make a dent in it till the storm's passed."
Ryan shrugged. He hated boredom almost as much as he hated school. The prospect of being stuck in this hotel for the foreseeable future was not in the least bit appealing. "Well… I guess at least we know that Pagan's trapped in his mansion too, so he won't be able to go anywhere for a while."
"Nope. He's got a private helicopter. He's probably not even in Kyrai right now."
"What…? That's no fair!"
"Life isn't fair, Ryan," Logan said, sweet as poison.
"But where would he even go if he left?"
Kelly shrugged. "Probably somewhere in Kalos. You remember that Dendemille Town is just south of here, don't you?"
"Don't talk to me like I'm five, Kelly. You still haven't told us what he stole from your mom. Like, we came all this way to help you and we still don't know what the heck we're doing."
A Jynx came over to the table and took their orders. Ryan rarely liked to eat breakfast, as doing so usually just made him feel sick, so he only ordered a glass of pineapple juice. Logan ordered a vegetarian omelette, while Kelly bought herself a bowl of cereal and a tall glass of orange juice. They're such weirdos, he thought. Cereal and orange juice? That'd make me throw up. And why would anyone order a vegetarian omelette? That defeats the purpose!
The boy at the bar's bowl of franks and beans arrived, and instead of continuing to sit at the bar, he decided to make things interesting and take a seat at the table directly to Ryan's right. The boy ate noisily and stared at the three of them as he consumed his meal, but they ignored him nonetheless. From how they were sitting, only Ryan could see that he was staring at them anyways.
She waited until her orange juice was brought to her before answering. "It's nothing, Ryan."
"No it's not. We wouldn't be here if it was nothing."
"Look… can you just forget it? It's personal. That's all I'm going to say." She took a long gulp of orange juice. "Just think of this as a mission to deal with an evil ganglord. You like fighting bad guys, don't you?"
Now it was Ryan's turn to roll his eyes at Logan. "She's the worst, isn't she?"
"I'm just an innocent bystander, dude. I don't want to be a part of this argument!" the other boy whimpered.
"Well, since we have all this free time suddenly, we should come up with a strategy to take out Kim's Zapdos… that's assuming he wasn't bluffing last time."
Kelly's glass was already half empty. "He's not. Don't worry about that, either. I'll take care of Zapdos."
"Oh really? Who do you think you are, Alex?" Scoffing, Ryan continued, "Come on, Kelly. You're no League Champion. You can't take a Legendary Pokémon on by yourself!"
Her look was almost entirely fury. Uh oh. That's the look I always hate to see! Gripping her cup, she polished off the rest, stood up, and walked over to the bar, where she ordered a refill and immediately downed it. Soon, she was ordering a third.
"Wh-wha…? What did I say?"
"You don't hear yourself speak, do you Ryan? That was pretty mean."
"I didn't mean it like that… I was just trying to say we should work together."
Logan lowered his voice to a whisper, side-glancing at the girl as if he feared her overhearing him. "Yeah, well, looks like she's still's still raw about losing the Indigo League."
"We have to work together. If she doesn't want to, she deserves getting told off."
"Yeah maybe. I don't know, man."
"Whatever."
She didn't return to the table. After getting a fourth refill, Kelly walked briskly off back to their room, never glancing back at them. Crap. Well, looks like I'm going to have to deal with her drama again. The boy was not looking forward to that.
The Jynx returned with their food. Kelly's bowl looked so lonely before the empty seat. Logan immediately dug into his omelette like a starved Gliscor. Embarrassed, Ryan looked away and found that his gaze had locked again with that other boy.
"Mmmm, I love these Kalos Jynx, don't you?" the boy spoke up suddenly. He had forgotten to wipe the sauce from his lips. "They're so thick… so cute and tiny and squishy. Don't you just want to hug them?"
Oh here we go. "No sir, I've never had that desire in my life."
The other boy looked at Ryan like he was a Deoxys or something. "I'm Kyle, by the way. Nice to meet you."
"Uh, hello. I'm Ryan, and that's Logan."
Logan was busy eating, slapping the butt of a ketchup bottle with urgency, his head bowed over his plate. He didn't so much as acknowledge the conversation going on.
"Cool. By the way, in Chile, they used to throw communists out of helicopters, ha! And guess what, there aren't any commies there anymore. Pretty funny, right?"
Ryan looked at Kyle as if he were a Banette. "Yeah, sure. You know, if I had a younger brother, his name would be Kyle, but that's not to say that you're my brother or anything."
"I met this girl in Japanese 1A who wore sandals to school everyday," Kyle said, as if he hadn't heard anything Ryan had just said (he had, though, that little Primeape). "She painted her toes blue and purple. Ryan, you wouldn't believe it. Her feet were so sexy."
"That's really nice, dude. I'm glad for you. I think I'm just going to–"
"Hey, want to win a cool prize?"
Logan looked up hastily. "Yes of course he does!"
Kyle was a brown-haired boy with a few strands of browner hair for a goatee. But his goatee wasn't very thick, and it looked more like arm hair transplanted to his chin than a proper beard. He was probably older than Ryan for the sake of this to be true, but in no way did it seem like he was an intelligent boy, nor a particularly good person. The way in which he kept ignoring everything Ryan said while ranting about random things was a terrible, horrible personality trait, and yet Ryan was lazy–or perhaps lonely–enough to put up with it.
Nonetheless, Ryan elbowed Logan in the ribs. "Why'd you gotta say that?"
"C'mon dude, you're a winner. You won the Indigo League! Show this guy who's boss!"
He exhaled noisily. "Fine, whatever. What's the prize?"
"That's a secret," Kyle smiled. "Want to know what the competition is, Ryan? Hey, did you hear me?"
"What is the competition about?" the teal-haired boy asked slowly and spitefully.
"We each eat one of these ghost pepper chips." He held up two small red bags. "And then see who can go the longest without drinking any Moomoo Milk.
"You got a third bag?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Logan wants to play too."
"H-hey, whoa… what?"
That's right, Logan. You're gonna play this game too. "Don't be a coward, brah."
"Whatever." Logan burped, wiping his mouth and sitting back in his seat. "I finished my breakfast anyways."
Kyle tossed two bags over to them. "There's only a single chip in there. These are really hot, though. You just have to eat one and see how long you can last, alright? The winner gets a cool prize."
"It isn't a 'Don't Tread On Me' t-shirt, is it?" Ryan guessed.
Kyle was a bit slow, perhaps well-meaning, but not entirely. "No… but that's a great idea! I'll remember that for next time. Man, the Jynx waiters here sure are thicc, aren't they?"
"You already said that, dude."
"I just can't get them off my mind."
"That's great, and awkward, and let's stop talking about it, okay?"
Logan, innocent and empty-minded as he was, tore open his bag and held up a single triangular-shaped chip, well-seasoned and orange in color. "How hot is this going to be exactly?"
"It's made from the hottest pepper on Earth, so…"
"Oh my gosh! Ryan, this is going to be horrible! You know I can't handle even kinda spicy stuff. What's going to happen after I eat this?"
"I don't know, maybe you'll evolve."
He ripped open his own bag and waited for Kyle to follow through. Once everyone was ready, Kyle whooped and tried to whistle (he couldn't exactly do it). Ryan ate his chip whole, swallowing it in one gulp after a few crunches. He hadn't meant to chew it thoroughly, as doing so would probably leave more of the pepper in his mouth. Logan on the other hand had taken at first a nibble off the top of his triangle and then taken a more larger bite, and then finished it off with a third. By the time he swallowed, he was already wincing.
It was hot alright, but nothing Ryan couldn't handle. Indeed, he was surprised by how mild the spice was overall. This is a ghost pepper? Really? Mom used to make ramen ten times as hot as this. His eyes were watering and his nose was beginning to run, but so far, it was entirely tolerable. Kyle got up from his chair and came to sit down next to them, taking Kelly's old seat. There was something deeply dishonorable in that action that left Ryan nonplussed.
The other boy was sweating visibly, and his cheeks had gone red from the heat. He gave off no sense agony, however, simply smiling arrogantly at them, cool as a Cuber. The Jynx returned with three glasses of Moomoo milk not long after.
"Thanks, Jynx, you lookin' fresh as heck!" Kyle sang, tipping her a few Poké Dollars for the trouble. So kind of him. "Well, how about it, Ryan, Logan? You guys feelin' the heat yet? You want to take a drink?"
"Nah, I'm good."
Panting, Logan said, "Ryan won the Indigo League! He can't lose this easily! He'll win that prize for sure!"
"Yeah, well, I won plenty of leagues too." His goatee looked like a few strands of Meowth fur that he'd glued onto his chin. "Lets see… the Emerald League, the Crimson League, the Monochrome League… I won that one just a few weeks back. I'm pretty awesome, aren't I?"
"This isn't a bragging contest, dude. And statistically, that's so unlikely that I have no reason to believe you. You seem pretty desperate, trying to outdo my accomplishments."
"No man, you don't get it, I've won all sorts of leagues before. I'm not lying."
"I really don't care. So what if you have? What does that have to do with anything?"
"It shows I have prowess! Chicks dig a man who can win a league."
I have never met someone more desperate than him… like who does he think he's trying to fool? This is kindergarten-level pathetic behavior. Whatever. Once we're done here, I'll never see this guy again hopefully. That's as long as the snowstorm doesn't last very long…
A big if that was indeed.
Ten minutes passed, and finally, they were starting to feel it. Logan was sweating like a madman. Kyle was not looking so good either (though when had he ever?). Ryan too was feeling the heat growing now. It had not been so bad at first, and yet, somehow, the ghost pepper was only getting stronger with time. His mouth was on fire. It was so hard not to take that glass of Moomoo milk and pour it down his throat, and he didn't even like milk.
"You can quit whenever you like!"
"I eat spicy food all the time. I'm used to this."
"Oh Arceus, Ryan! You're so OP… it isn't fair! Why are you perfect in every single way?!" Logan screamed before downing his glass. "It's no fair, I tell ya. I want to be the protagonist sometimes too!"
"My mom makes really spicy food for me too, it's why I like thicc Jynx so much," Kyle retorted. "I'm going to w… oh… o-oh…!"
With that, Kyle fell to the ground, clutching at his throat. He was so red he should've been thrown from a helicopter. "Well, looks like you're done," Ryan said. Though outwardly, he showed few signs of succumbing to the heat, he was absolutely burning on the inside. His mouth was on fire. He had to end this as soon as possible. Now was the perfect time. He grabbed Kyle's glass of milk and poured it all over his face.
"Ryan wins!" Logan cheered. "I knew he'd do it! I knew it!"
Spitting milk everywhere, Kyle sat up, looking livid. "Hey, that doesn't count! I didn't drink it! You poured it on me."
"You gave up the moment you fell out of that chair. Now hand over the prize."
"Never!"
Now Ryan was incensed. Not only had he been made fun of by this worthless sack of meat, but he'd eaten that spicy chip for nothing.
"Vorian, go!"
Ryan's Scizor shot out of his ball in a flash.
"The heck…?" Kyle stood to his feet. "Oh… the milk barely helped… my mouth's burning, burning, burning!"
"Shut up!" Ryan snarled. "Give me that prize, or feel the wrath of my Scizor!"
The other boy was clearly a bit surprised, but he nonetheless unhooked one of his own Poké Balls from his belt and released a Blastoise without much fuss.
"Bullet Punch!"
"Aqua Tail!"
A claw struck a big fat bipedal turtle with cannons under his shell. Then, the Blastoise responded with a brutal, watery swipe of his own. When the dust cleared, they were, neither of them, injured very much.
"Hey, Dexy, what other moves does Scizor know?" Ryan asked, pulling out his favorite companion and pointing it at noble Vorian.
"Vorian the Scizor knows: Bullet Punch, Swords Dance, Roost, and Iron Head."
"Alright then. Iron Head this time, buddy!"
"Skull Bash him to dust, Blastoise!"
Scizor flew at his foe, his head glowing white. Before Blastoise could Skull Bash the Pincer Pokémon, Ryan's steadfast warrior hit his opponent and dropped him. Falling back, Scizor then performed a Roost as if to mock the unconscious Blastoise. Lucky that Alex wasn't there to witness a move being used outside of battle, lest he suffer an aneurysm.
"Now pay up!"
"I have more Pokémon. This isn't over…"
"Vorian, get 'em!"
Kyle reached for another Poké Ball, but Ryan's Scizor was too fast. His claws reached and grabbed and stole the boy's five remaining Pokémon before they could be used. Returning to Ryan's side, Poké Balls in hand, the Scizor cried out triumphantly,"Scizeeeeeh!"
"Now," Ryan said, panting, sipping the hideous milk slowly as he approached Kyle, "hand over the prize I won, or Scizor'll slice you up."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Vorian!"
Scizor lunged at Kyle, hitting him hard in the stomach with his free claw. The boy keeled over, spitting and coughing, trying to catch his breath again.
"Well?"
"I'm n-not…"
"Vorian!"
Again, Kyle was hit by the Scizor's swift-moving claw, and again he fell to his knees out of breath. This was compounded all the more by his burning mouth, Ryan knew.
"That's enough!" Logan cried. He was standing next to the Jynx, another glass of Moomoo milk in his hands, the milk smeared all over his face and lips as he had just hastily gulped down a second glass of it. "Stop it you two right now!"
He was unperturbed to say the least. "Hand over my prize, or Scizor'll hit you again."
"F-fine… just, just leave me alone, alright?!" Kyle yelled with the petulance of a small child. He flung a folded piece of paper from his pocket to Ryan's feet. This better be good.
Unraveling the paper, Ryan wanted to throw up. Maybe that was just the burning in his mouth and the milk in his belly speaking. "Th-this… this is a picture of Prima's feet!"
She was on a beach, posing seductively, her feet front-and-center, a lusty grin upon her face. I should have known. Dang, he trolled me good.
"She's so beautiful, isn't she?" Kyle spoke up, as if forgetting his anguish. "Look at her. She's perfect, Ryan! She's the one for me! I'd love to marry a woman like that. Wouldn't you?"
Disgusted, Ryan tore the paper to shreds, even as the boy cried out as if he were defacing a classical painting from a world-renowned artist. What a waste of time.
"Come on, Logan, let's go," Ryan said miserably, leading his friend out of the lobby and back to their room.
The brown-haired boy quickly grabbed two more glasses of Moomoo milk and ran off after him and Scizor. Why's it always gotta be like this?, Ryan thought to himself. As they left the lobby and silence returned (save for Logan's panting), Ryan's thoughts once again returned to Kelly, and he felt a sharp sense of embarrassment grow behind his eyes. I shouldn't have said that. That was so stupid of me. Why do I do things like that? Why do I gotta be so awkward? I'm going to have to apologize now. I hate apologizing. That's the worst. Gah… but what else can I do? She was right, Logan was right…
He glanced over his shoulder at the beet-red boy trailing him. Well, that's a first, I have to admit.
The storm had not abated by the morrow, and Kelly was still not speaking to Ryan. It was lucky the lobby was spacious; despite how weird things had gotten, they were not being forced to confront each other. He spent the day training his Pokémon and thinking over how he should approach her. It was a deep, driving anxiety within him, yet he could not bring it to a head. Kelly did not seek him out either, spending all of her time at the bar burning money on orange juice, or in their hotel room, away from prying eyes.
Logan, meanwhile, fell in with the crowd of poker players.
"Do you have any information about when it'll be over?" Ryan asked the hotel owner around lunchtime that next day. It was still the case that all of the windows were fully covered in snow.
"Not much, I'm afraid." His jowls quivered when he spoke. "The storm could last for several more hours… or days… maybe even a week."
"A week?!"
Now he really was going to lose his mind. It was good that Kyle wasn't anywhere to be found in the lobby, at least. But Ryan's patience was nonetheless running thin.
"That's right. It's a killer storm. A real barn-burner. Oh boy, I should hang some onions! We don't get storms like this very often."
That was just their luck. On the fourth day stuck inside the hotel (the fifth day overall since arriving), Ryan ran out of healing and reviving potions, so he could no longer have his Pokémon spar against one another. Now he was truly bored. There wasn't much to do except watch re-runs of old Pokémon League battles. He half-hoped to see some of his own matches on the replays, but all that played were Hoenn and Unova matches, and since Ryan hardly knew the merits and flaws of the Pokémon from those regions (other than the obvious fact that most of them were as ugly as their trainers), he too grew bored with that.
On the fifth day of the great snowstorm, Ryan learned from Logan that the boy had lost his watch playing poker with those hooligans who never left that table in the corner of the lobby.
"I didn't even know you wore a watch. Since when has that been a thing?"
"Aw, c'mon Ryan, don't be like that. Can't you do something about it? Maybe you could challenge them to a Pokémon battle for my watch!"
"Don't be ridiculous, dude."
"Pleeeeease?! This watch is super special! It was given to me by–"
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Another gift from Granddaddy Clefable."
"Nope. Falco gave it to me for teaching him how to rollerblade."
"What did you just say?!"
"Falco gave me that watch for me teaching him how to rollerblade for the first time. It's tricky, you know. He'd been trying to find his balance for years before I showed up."
"You know, he prolly stole that watch from some poor helpless old lady or something…"
"Yeah, so?"
"I mean… whatever, dude. I just thought… I mean, I didn't know you knew Falco really at all. I thought he randomly showed up that day I ran into you and tried to steal your Pokémon for the heck of it."
Laughing dryly, Logan waved him off, "Oh, no, no, no, Ryan, don't be silly. I'd run into that creep a few times before. He let me go the first time, when I gave him my strawberry sundae. But then he wanted more!"
"They always do. I just don't see why he had any reason to give you a watch."
"Hmmm… maybe because he's not as bad a guy as he seems?"
"No, that can't be it."
Ryan got out of there as fast as he could, promising to return Logan's most valuable possession to him by evening. But taking one look at the surly group of poker stars, one of whom was holding a rake, another of whom was dressed up as a big baby with a pacifier in his mouth, Ryan knew he had no chance of approaching them. They're so out of my league. Like, what did Logan think he was getting into? They're probably in the mob, or maybe the Painted Dragons!
He wasn't scared of no dragons, no sir, but Ryan was a lazy bugger. It was the core of his being, a wonderful and horrible personality flaw, and clear evidence that he could never ever be considered a Gary Stu, not even if he were four years younger. The boy could take comfort in that fact.
But what he really took comfort in was the fact that they were selling cheap watches in the gift shop at the corner of the lobby. He had to pay probably four times what the little bit of plastic was worth, but he didn't have to talk to those scary poker-playing dudes, so that was a win in his book.
Logan won't even notice the difference, he thought to himself as he handed the Jynx at the cash register his card. I bet he won't even remember what color his old watch was. He never wore it, so how could he? Ryan's logic was perfection incarnate. He had nothing to worry about. He had completed this quest with minimal effort, and now he was satiated… or so he thought.
Returning to the lobby, the teal-haired boy noticed Kelly at the bar counter, her head in her hands, three empty glasses of the citrus variety laid before her like translucent bones. He sighed, knowing what he had to do. Half of his brain begged for him to take the lazy way out, and the other half screamed at him (via anxiety pummeling him in the stomach until he felt sick) to be a man. But I'm not a man. I'm fourteen. He had a million ways to rationalize this.
So?, another voice spoke up within him. Ryan knew at once that his subconscious was trying to deter his laziness, and that just made him despise his subconscious more than for not letting him lucid dream these past few weeks for no apparent reason. You either have results or excuses, not both.
It's not an excuse, yo. I really am…
Silence. The rational part of him had said all it needed to, and he knew the anxiety he was feeling wasn't the least bit healthy. There was nothing for him to do but go over to her and talk.
"Hey."
"Oooohhhh, iss yooou, Rye-bread."
She was much farther gone than he would have hoped.
"Look, I, uh, I'm just going to say, I mean, I just want to say, I didn't mean to… I mean, I didn't intend for what I said a couple days ago to sound as harsh as it did. That wasn't my intention, Kelly. I was just trying to say that we all should stick together. We're in this together, aren't we? Logan and I came here with you because we want to help you. We… I mean I… care about you, I mean, not like that or anything, just we're friends, ya know? We gotta be friends. I want things to go back to how they were, so I-I'm sorry, okay? It was a stupid thing for me to say, and I didn't mean it."
"I… I can't believe yooou won the League, Rye-rye…!" she hiccuped, smiling innocently. "Thaaa was sooooooo… mmmm… cool."
She exhaled that last word, sending shivers down his spine. He thought a thousand thoughts and none at once, and as she turned to face him, Ryan wondered if this was truly it, if he had done it. His fingers were tingling, his mind was racing, and he couldn't see anything but her. There was Kelly and there was the world; Acapulco was just as far-off to his mind as the lobby.
She lurched towards him, and, like a good boy, a boy who would never make the first move, a pathetic boy, a weak boy, a sad example of the human race, he leaned in to meet her halfway. His movements unfolded on their own. Within his body was a sort of natural restraint that even now half-paralyzed him, but it wasn't enough to stop his excitement.
I don't care if the whole dang lot of Jynxs watch, he thought defiantly.
The girl fell against his shoulder. His neck twitched; he pulled back from the empty space awkwardly, as if he had meant to catch her. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he shuddered, for an instant forgetting his tactless behavior. Madly, that irrational part of him tried once again to sooth him, to remind him that it wasn't over, that he still had a chance, that this wasn't an excuse, but reality.
Kelly whispered something half-garbled, half-slurred in his ear. Perhaps this wasn't as romantic as in the movies, but he wasn't going to complain. Ryan's ears were growing hot with anticipation. He was beaming uncontrollably. And then the pink-haired girl tensed up, gripping him tight as a stuffed Snorlax, and vomited down the back of his shirt.