The Traveler, Part Two
The walking pass cut high across Mt Moon. Below him, Wataru could sometimes make out the curve of the transport road. Out of sight, but not out of hearing, conveyors ran their shipments. The air was still warm when the path at last turned downwards, but a chilly breeze was beginning to blow in from the east. As he came around a bend, Wataru caught his first sight of Cerulean City—a vast expanse of blue sea blanketed by fluffy white clouds.
It was another day, though, before they could continue. Toku's shedding had come, her second that year. The sparse, rocky path wasn't the best place, but they made do, huddling in a small alcove while Toku twisted back and forth, inching slowly out of her old skin. When the shedding was complete, there was no stream nearby for her to soak in, and Wataru couldn't spare water from his bottle to soothe her newly exposed scales. So Toku spent the evening with her eyes closed in concentration, drawing condensation over her body. They left the shed skin pushed behind a boulder—a dry, leathery husk, still a vibrant blue, though Wataru knew the color would fade with time, especially in the dry mountain air.
One day and another, and the mountains softened into rolling hills, speckled with green. The cool breeze was more constant now, bringing the taste of brine to Wataru's lips. He found himself hiking faster, eager to eat something other than dried berries and protein bars. In the leafy route that connected the mountain pass to the city, Toku stopped to nibble at the base of a patch of bright yellow flowers. If it suited Toku, Wataru decided it could suit him too. The roots of the flowers were sour, but the tang was pleasant and the grassy taste refreshing.
Catching the tell-tale white of artificial lights in the distance, Wataru hurried on. Cerulean City was huge. Its streets were paved with cobblestones—not that the streets were too visible beneath the crush of people streaming through. The Pokemon Center wasn't any less packed.
"There's at least another month left in the season," the on-duty nurse told Wataru when he checked in. "People won't abandon the beaches until the water freezes their toes."
Due to the abundance of guests, Wataru was placed in a shared room, lined with four sets of doubly-stacked cots. There was enough space to maneuver between them, but no more than that, and certainly not enough for his usual morning stretches. Wataru wasn't a stranger to sleeping tightly packed, but these roommates were louder than the ones back home had been. There was no group curfew, and so the door slid open and shut what seemed to be every five minutes, washing the room in blinding light each time. Wataru stuck his pillow over his head, but even that couldn't drown out the constant whispering and giggles that rose from the other beds.
The close quarters also left Wataru worried about Toku. People were constantly noticing her, saying, "Hey, that's an unusual pokemon you've got there? What's it called?" He'd snapped loudly at the first person to ask and glared long and hard at the second; now Wataru's roommates kept their distance and didn't bother inviting him to join them in the cafeteria. That wasn't a problem, though. Wataru was used to keeping his own company and preventing Kana from picking fights with the other trainers' pokemon was a full-time job anyway.
It was a relief to escape the city, staking out turf on the grassy route that ran to the beach and battling any passing trainers willing to delay their dipping. Wataru didn't spend much time at the beach himself: Kana hated all the water and the salt irritated Toku's still fresh scales. Besides, the noise was worst at the beach, high-pitched hooting and even screaming that had Wataru flinching around to see who was in distress.
The nights the constant open-and-shut of the door made sleep impossible, Wataru began to study the professor's book. On one such night, he flipped a page and found a sketch of a pokemon very much like Toku staring up at him.
Dratini, he read. Folk Typing: Dragon. Scientific Typing: Unknown. Lives in proximity to water. First stage of the Dragonite line. (See Dragonite.) Rarity: Mythic.
Wataru turned the page, but there was nothing more written about miniryu.
One afternoon, Wataru noticed a large crowd gathered by the edge of a stream. He pushed his way through to find himself staring at a large koiking, swimming determinedly up-stream against the current. It was making progress, but the miniaturized waterfall created by the rising cliffs was too steep for it to climb. A few chuckles rose from the watching crowd as the koiking flung itself forward and was once again buffeted back.
"How long do you think it'll try?"
"I've read they don't have any sense of time. Their mental clock resets like every five minutes. So it could keep on trying forever without realizing."
"Well I've read every koiking has a golden coin inside. Should we check?"
But this suggestion was booed down. When the koiking did nothing more exciting than persist in its frantic swim, the crowd slowly dispersed, until only Wataru was left. He wondered if it was true about the mental clock. Somehow, Wataru didn't think so. The koiking's eyes were narrowed in concentration and its leaps were becoming more wild, as if frustrated by its lack of success.
Pride, Wataru thought. That was probably all that was keeping it going.
Wataru felt bad for the small water-ryu. Especially after being watched by all those people, how could it just give up and let the current carry it away?
"Hey," he called out to it, "Let's battle."
Nestled inside Wataru's shirt, Toku let out a yawn, but Kana was game, chiming in with a taunting yip. One of the koiking's large eyes flecked over to them.
Wataru pointed down-river, where the current slowed and the water pooled. "We can fight there. And after we're done you can finish your climb."
For a moment, he thought the koiking would refuse. But its tail ceased its frantic beating and the koiking let itself be pushed down-stream.
When Kana reached the pooling water, the koiking attacked in a flurry, using its fins to strike up bands of water. Kana let out an irritated hiss as she was hit. The terrain was in the small water-ryu's favor: each time Kana struck out with a gleaming claw, the koiking vanished under the water, only to send another wave against Kana's exposed side. Toku peeked her nose out of Wataru's shirt to take in the spectacle of Kana, a fire-ryu half-grown, her tail flame blazing and crested head proudly raised, snorting and stamping as she tried to pin down the insistent fish. As Kana lunged forward yet again only to receive a splash of water to the face, Toku let out an amused trill.
The koiking froze at the sound, its eyes craning upwards until they landed on the miniryu. Taking advantage of the water-ryu's distraction, Kana swiped out her claws. Her attack knocked the koiking from the water to the grassy bank, where it flopped from side to side, gaze still fixed on Toku. The miniryu let out a questioning trill and the koiking gasped out a strained response.
"Put it back in the water, Kana," Wataru told the charmeleon, who complied with a small snort, her pride clearly still smarting from the one-sided battle. Wataru set Toku down by the stream side, where she listened to the koiking's glubbing with her ear fins angled forward.
"What is it, Toku?" Wataru asked afterwards, but the miniryu didn't seem inclined to share. She tended to stay moody in the weeks after a shedding. "I'll get you some ice cream," he decided. That frozen treat had definitely been the highlight of the new city.
Fifteen minutes later, Toku was licking away at an enormous vanilla swirl. Kana had turned her nose up at the ice cream and was sprawled out on the beach sand, her sulk gradually mellowing into a sunning session. It was another bright afternoon.
"Oh my."
Wataru lifted his head to see an elderly woman staring down at them. Her cheeks were sunken and her nose sharp; stringy hair dyed a bright blue fell down her back. She was wrapped in a light shawl patterned with waves and an open sky and her gaze was fixed on Toku.
"I haven't seen one of those since I was a gel," she said softly, dropping unceremoniously onto the sand by Wataru. She kicked off her sandals and dug her bare feet into the warm sand with a pleased sigh.
Wataru watched her warily. He'd been stopped by enough beach-goers with disposable yellow cameras that he'd learn how to shut these interactions down quickly. But—
"Seen one?" he echoed.
The old woman nodded. She waved one veined hand at the coast-side. "Fifty years ago—merciful Mew, I've gotten old—fifty years ago, if you can even imagine, this beach was a quiet place, frequented by fishers and no one else. No light-house, either. The fishing boats returned before sunset, or sometimes, when the moon shone full, they'd tempt fate and stay out a little longer.
"Of course, that wasn't always wise. A storm might creep up, quite suddenly, creating trouble for even the most experienced sailors. The waves turn choppy, the moon covers over, and a woman is forced to realize how lonely we are, poor finless, wingless creatures, caught far from our home shores. It happened to my mother and her small crew—a calm, silver night that turned nasty in an instant. A wave broke over the decks and a vicious wind tore through the sail. All would have been lost then, if not for the dragonite."
"Dragonite?" Wataru said with a start. That was the name from the book . . .
The old woman smiled. Her eyes had fallen closed as she spoke, as if seeing the sequence play out behind her eyelids. "Yes, a dragonite. The sailors told tales of them, of course. You'd catch a glimpse on full moon nights, a shadowed shape coasting above the waves with impossible ease. The dragonite were known to be deadly powerful, but kind. My mother found that out for herself. Just when all hope seemed lost and she'd resigned herself to the gaping maw of the sea, the ship tugged into motion. She looked up to the sound of beating wings and found a dragonite aloft over her, one enormous claw gripping the broken sail. It towed them in silence as the storm continued to crash, betraying no sign of exertion despite the ship's weight. At last, they were back in shallow waters. The dragonite took off as silently as it had come, and the current washed my mother and her crew safe to shore . . ."
The woman let out a long sigh. "Our quiet guardians, we called them. We built no shrines, but we sang to them on full moon nights, and I like to think they understood our gratitude. Of course, that was long ago. The light-house rose and shortly after, the dragonite sightings began to slow, until even during the brightest harvest moon, the skies stayed empty. Just us sailors and the beacon light of the tower to guide us home. Progress, to be sure. Fewer lives lost to the sea. But we lost the dragonite and we gained all this—" Her hand rose in a dismissive sweep of the crowded beach-side. "It can make an old woman melancholy, it really can."
"Kairyu—dragonite once lived here?" Wataru said, his head spinning. Toku made a small sound from his shoulder. "Is that why the koiking was looking at you so funny, Toku? Is that what it said?"
"A koiking, you say?" the old woman interjected, speaking over Toku's quiet trill of confirmation. "Little guides, we've always called them here. They swim upstream, always, as if seeking something. Gold, idiots speculate, but I've always wondered—" She fell silent for a moment. "Perhaps it's a foolish fantasy, but I've always liked to think the dragonite never completely left us. Perhaps they just hid themselves away, far from the lights and noise, in the immeasurable nooks and crannies of Cerulean Cave. The cave's never been fully explored, you know. Not profitable. Too many cliffs and watery rises, and no trace of ore to mine."
"You think the ryu are still here?" Wataru said. "Toku, do you think that's possible?"
He realized he was holding in his breath, waiting for the miniryu's answer.
"Riiii," Toku trilled at last. Yes. It could be possible.
"If you find that koiking," the old woman said, "it might be able to show you the way."
Wataru leaped to his feet like a fire had been lit under him. "Then what are we waiting for?"
He took off, ignoring Kana's indignant yelp, up the sandy beach, onto the leafy path, until he'd reached the same stream as before, with its small waterfall. But there was no sign of the koiking there.
"Riii ii!" Toku trilled suddenly. Wataru followed her gaze up above the waterfall, where he caught an orange flash.
"It made it up!" Wataru exclaimed, impressed by the water-ryu's tenacity. Scrambling up the steep incline, Wataru found the koiking resting near the bank. It had latched one fin around a deeply rooted reed to keep itself from being pushed back downstream.
"Hi again," Wataru said breathlessly. "We're trying to find the ryu. Do you know them? Miniryu, like Toku." He set the miniryu down by the stream side, belatedly realizing that she should probably do the talking. His foot tapped impatiently as the two spoke, exchanging trills and gulps. Finally, Toku nodded, her eyes sparkling.
"It does? And can show us?"
The miniryu's tail twitched uncertainly. Then she pointed it towards the pool of water the koiking was resting in.
Wataru thought for a moment, trying to make out Toku's meaning. "Like this pool? Oh! It knows, but it hasn't been before. Is that right?"
This time Toku's trill was satisfied. Wataru fell back on the grassy shore, his mind buzzing. Could it be possible? A ryu colony, all the way out here? And he'd be the one to discover them!
"Tomorrow!" The shout made Wataru and Toku both jump. The old woman had caught up with them and was standing beneath the waterfall, Kana at her side. "If you're going to traipse around in Cerulean Cave, you'll need supplies. And you'll need a guide." It was obvious she meant herself. "Can you tell that koiking to meet us here tomorrow, at dawn?
Wataru and Toku exchanged a glance. He'd seen enough of Mt Moon to know that the caves in these parts could be labyrinths, full of precarious passages and sudden dead-ends. And the old woman seemed to know what she was doing. Wataru wouldn't have known about the kairyu at all without her story.
"Do you think it's okay, Toku?" Wataru whispered.
The miniryu looked down on the old woman with a hard, evaluative gaze. "Rii-a," she trilled back softly. Okay for now.
"Excellent," said the old woman, before Wataru could answer her. "I'll see you at dawn."
Wataru woke to a cold, rasping tongue dragging against his cheek.
"Toku," he groaned in protest, pulling his blanket up over his head. When Toku whined again, he sat up blearily. The sleeping room was silent except for the occasional snore, and the sky outside was dark, though a red glint suggested that soon it would be dawn—
Dawn!
The memory of yesterday lit through Wataru like an electric jolt. He flung aside the blanket and fumbled for his clothes in the dark. The air was freezing when he stepped outside. Knotting a scarf around his neck, Wataru set out at a run for the stream. He passed a few joggers and several fishers, but other than that, the cobblestone streets were empty. The stillness of early morning transformed Cerulean; for the first time, Wataru could imagine it as the quiet fishing town from the old woman's story.
The old woman was waiting for him by the stream. She'd managed to clamber up the cliff-side and was tickling the koiking on its stomach. The water-ryu's eyes were closed in pleasure.
"Finally!" the old woman exclaimed when she caught sight of them. Wataru noticed an overladen pack set down at her side.
"Sorry," Wataru panted. "We're ready now," he told the koiking. But the water-ryu didn't move until Toku let out a short trill.
Before Wataru could blink, it shot upstream, leaving them scrambling to follow. The stream continued straight upwards for several yards more, then twisted sharply left as the ground leveled. After twenty minutes walking, they found themselves at the mouth of a cave. The opening was small enough that Wataru had to duck and the old woman practically had to crawl inside. They had entered a narrow tunnel, lit a gloomy gray. Wataru shivered as a rush of cold air met them.
"So," the old woman began as they trailed after the koiking. "In all this excitement, I don't believe I caught your name."
"Wataru. And this is Toku."
"Mine's Hamako." After a pause, she added, "I can't entirely place your accent. But you're from Johto, aren't you?"
Wataru nodded slowly. "And you grew up here?" he asked politely in return.
"That I did. Though I traveled many years. Ship after ship, some of 'em big and some of 'em small. I saw Cinnabar and all the Sevi Islands. Even made a trip to Cianwood."
The small stream they were following joined with another tributary and then split again. At each crossroads, the koiking didn't hesitate before picking its direction. Water dripped loudly from the stalactites that lined the roof of the cave. After an hour of walking, Wataru's stomach began to rumble loudly.
"Hold on," Hamako said. Her pack fell to the ground with a thunk and she began to root around. "Ah, here they are."
The onigiri she held out to Wataru were loosely wrapped in seaweed and still warm. "Made them at 4am this morning. I couldn't seem to catch any sleep. Kept thinking about the dratini and dragonite. This little one sure seems confident, doesn't she?" Hamako said, nodding at the koiking. Toku and Wataru shared a rice ball, while Hamako fed the koiking with something else from her pack.
"I can take that," Wataru blurted out, when she made to heave the giant rucksack onto her back again.
Hamako laughed. "I'm old, not enfeebled. But I appreciate the offer."
She took off after the koiking, humming a cheery tune. His stomach full, and more awake than he had been, Wataru followed.
At first, Wataru thought he was imagining it. But the rushing sound in his ears grew louder and more insistent as he walked, until it was hard to hear his own foot-falls. They rounded the bend and found themselves in a high cavern. The stream they had followed met with four others of equal size, all flowing out from a gigantic waterfall, taller than a tree and wider than a kairyu at full wingspan.
The crashing water was mesmerizing as it flowed down in its intricate, rippling whites. But Wataru's heart sank as he gaped upwards. Just how were they supposed to make their way up?
"Do you have rope?" he asked Hamako, shouting to make his voice heard over the din.
"Rope? I do. But rope won't be much help unless it's firmly staked up top."
She was right. Wataru eyed the sheer cliffs that edged the waterfall speculatively. He'd spent hours and hours climbing back in Dragon's Den—
"Don't even think about it. Those cliffs are slippery as seaweed. You wouldn't get more than a few feet." Hamako's gaze fell to the koiking, who was staring at the falling water as if stuck in a trance. "Well, little guide?" she called out. "It seems we're stuck."
The koiking blinked at the words and then started forward, towards the crashing whites. But this wasn't the miniature waterfall it had climbed before, Wataru thought. There was no way the small water-ryu could make it up.
Sure enough, the koiking fell back a moment later, carried by the swift current. She had to clench her teeth around a jagged stone to avoid being swept back further.
"She can't do it—" Wataru began, but Hamako shushed him with a gesture.
"Just watch," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the koiking, who was gazing up at the waterfall with narrowed eyes.
The koiking started forward again, her golden crest angled straight. Her tail worked furiously, churning up the water. When the small ryu hit the crashing spray, something changed. At first, Wataru thought he was just dazzled by the way the cavern light caught off the white water. But the white gleam was expanding—here extending into a long tail, here an enormous head that spiked into a tall crest—until at last a gyarados towered over them. The water glinted off her dark blue scales and the creamy white of her underbelly. Her large, fanged mouth was curved into a self-satisfied grin.
The expression put Wataru so in mind of Ibuki that for a moment he couldn't speak.
"Fantastic," Hamako breathed beside him. "Simply fantastic."
Toku's loud trill sounded through the cavern. Recovering from his daze, Wataru joined his voice to hers, making the walls ring with cheers. The gyarados basked in the attention, flicking her tail through the water to create rippling waves, reveling in her new weight and power.
"Yes, yes," Hamako said after a few minutes of this. "Very well done, but my blood's congealing into pudding, so let's be on our way." She strode over to the gyarados and hoisted herself up as easily as a dragon master would mount a kairyu. Wataru scrambled to climb behind her. To his embarrassment, he found himself clinging tightly to Hamako's woolen shawl as the gyarados started forward.
Seated on the back of a gyarados, the frantic rush of the waterfall seemed no more troublesome than a mild creek's current. Their guide—not so little now, Wataru thought—plunged up through the water. Cold spray slapped at Wataru's legs, but in less than a minute it was over.
They'd scaled the waterfall.
At the crest, the gyarados craned her head around. The ceiling was lower here, and the river wider. Wataru realized this place must be as new to the gyarados as it was to them, but there was only one direction to go. No tributaries split off that Wataru could see.
As they continued up the river, sunlight slipped in through cracks in the ceiling. Moss covered the rocks now and creepers wound their way up the walls, chasing the fragments of sunlight. Wataru noticed small streams winding off from the main river, forming into cascading pools. It was all beginning to remind him of the Dragon's Den.
"I think we're close," he whispered to Hamako, who nodded silently. Toku had snaked her way up the gyarados' back and was curled around its crest, her eyes fixed forward and her body tense with anticipation.
Another bend, and—Wataru raised a hand against the sudden outpouring of light. When the sun-spots faded from his eyes, he was looking up at the open blue sky, only partially obscured by the arcing rocks above. A wide lake stretched out before them, glistening in the morning light. Rivulets spread out from the lake like the veins of a leaf, depositing into puddles and pools. Creepers with small white blossoms lined the walls, and ice plant shot up from the rocky ground, reaching for the sky with silver-blue fingers. The air was wet and pleasantly cool.
Silently, Wataru slid from gyarados' back. His foot-falls echoed loudly against the rocks as he came to the edge of the lake and dipped his fingers in the cool water. Casting his eyes around the wide cavern, his gaze caught on a trace of sinuous blue. Wataru stood and began to walk towards a shallow pool, overhung by a smooth rock slab. There was something—
Wataru inhaled jerkily when he saw what was behind the rock. On his shoulder, Toku let out a low whine.
"Did you find something?" Hamako called out from behind him, but Wataru didn't answer.
Now that he knew what to look for, he saw them everywhere, a rainbow of dimmed blue, purple, and gray. The leathery husks lay strewn about the cavern, one behind almost every rock. Some of the husks stretched more than three meters—the shed skins of hakuryu.
"What is all this? What does it mean?"
Hamako's voice seemed to reach him from very far away. Wataru needed a moment before he could speak. His throat was tight when he answered.
"It means that miniryu and hakuryu lived here once, but now they don't."
The shed skins would dry out more slowly in a cool, damp cave like this one, Wataru thought distantly. It could be another half century before the husks crumbled to unrecognizable dust. Probably the miniryu had made the migration safely, clinging tightly to the backs of the hakuryu and kairyu. Probably none of them had perished in the journey, protected from wind and storm by their elders. But as Wataru looked from husk to husk in the silent, too still cavern, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was standing in nothing more or less than a graveyard.
Blinking the wetness from his eyes, Wataru finally turned to look at his companions. Hamako was crouched by the lakeside, her expression solemn. And the gyarados—swinging her head from side to side, she craned frantically into the pools and puddles, a lost look on her fierce new face.
The koiking must not have known, Wataru realized. How could they, unable to scale the waterfall? Were stories passed from mother to daughter of their cousins the ryu, who slept in shallow waters and lit the sky lightning? Had the water-ryu dreamed of one day scaling the waterfall, being welcomed as an equal into this secret place?
As if finally admitting to the evidence of her eyes, the gyarados let out an anguished wail. She rammed her head hard against one rocky wall, tearing through the white-blossomed creepers growing there. Her tail began to beat wildly, churning up quick-moving waves in the lake. Her eyes gleamed a frenzied red.
"She's going out of control!" Hamako called from the lake side. "She's new to this, doesn't know how to deal with the power!"
Wataru stared up at the thrashing gyarados, his breath rising and falling with strange steadiness. Perhaps it was because the gyarados was acting the way he wanted to act himself. Shout until he made himself hoarse, stamp his feet and throw rocks into the lake. But Wataru couldn't do that, because he had an obligation. He'd known it as soon as he'd known the husks of shed skin.
Stepping squarely in front of the raging gyarados, Wataru wished he had a long horn, the kind used to call the community together for celebrations or funerals. But all he had was himself. He put his fingers to his lips and let out a whistle that ricocheted from wall to wall. The gyarados ceased its screaming, turning its blood-red eyes on Wataru. Froth had collected on its wide-lipped mouth.
"Enough," Wataru said. His voice sounded so quiet after the piercing whistle. "Enough. We have rites to complete. The kairyu have passed from this place, the hakuryu and the miniryu too. We have to honor their passing." Sucking in a breath, Wataru turned back to Hamako, who was standing motionless, one hand hovering awkwardly at her hip. "If you could clap," he said, "a steady beat. That would help."
The old woman nodded. The gyarados' fury didn't seem to have rattled her. "Whatever's needed."
Her claps were loud and surprisingly powerful, the tempo slow.
"Toku," Wataru said, shutting his eyes for a moment. "Dance with me."
At the miniryu's soft trill, Wataru began the routine. Leg over leg, clap and turn, touch the sky and fall and spin. He'd never felt so heavy before performing these familiar motions. His steps echoed eerily through the cavern; this wasn't a dance meant for one. Then again, he wasn't alone, because Toku was dancing too, her small body twisting and somersaulting. The morning sun glittered off her scales, fresh from shedding and so vibrant in contrast to the husks surrounding them that it pained Wataru to look at her.
When the circular movement of the dance brought Wataru past the gyarados, he risked a glance up and saw that the water-ryu had closed its eyes and was swaying gently in time to Hamako's claps. The old woman was moving too, in an awkward shuffle as she kept up the beat. Her shawl flapped as she jumped, landing lightly on sandaled feet.
Toku trilled suddenly. She snaked over to Wataru's pack and came up gripping Ibuki's hakuryu cloak in her mouth. Wataru wrapped the well-worked fabric around him, breathing in its smoky scent.
"Faster, please," he told Hamako. He wouldn't have chosen these circumstances for his very first hakuryu dance. But Toku was right. It wasn't enough to honor only the miniryu.
The routine came to him as he began, the steps familiar from all the times he had practiced the dance in secret. He ducked and spun through the cavern, the hakuryu cloak flaring out behind him. His movements weren't as polished as Ibuki's had been at the Ryu Odori. But they were enough. Wataru was breathing heavily as he completed the final twist.
The kairyu dance should come next. Here, though, Wataru hesitated. It was one thing to take up Ibuki's cloak and dance, another thing altogether to attempt the sacred dance of the kairyu, which he had no right to. He'd have to find some other way.
"A battle would honor the kairyu," he said, thinking out loud. If he called out Kana, maybe she and Toku could . . .
Hamako's voice made him start. He'd almost forgotten the old woman's presence.
"A battle, you say? I'm not much of a dancer, but I think I can help you out there." She'd pushed back her heavy wool shawl to reveal four pokeballs clipped to her belt. "And I think our guide would like to participate," she added. "I think she'd like to do her part, wouldn't you?"
The gyarados' roar of agreement rang through the cavern. Hamako smiled and flicked a pokeball into the air. A second gyarados materialized in the lake, almost twice the size of the first.
Wataru's mouth fell open. "You had a gyarados? This whole time? But then why didn't you . . ."
Hamako shrugged one shoulder. "I could see this little one was close to evolution. She just needed a good enough reason to make the final push."
The 'little one' bared its teeth at the larger gyarados, who snapped back with something like a grin on its massive face.
"Shall we begin?" Hamako said mildly. With her woolen shawl drawn back over her body, she hardly cut an imposing figure, but her gaze was steady and intent as she looked out across the lake.
"Just a moment," Wtaru said. He drew in a breath. "Once the ryu fought with fire and ash." His voice echoed through the cavern. When he finished, "Ryu, bless this battle before you," his voice shook.
Hamako had closed her eyes while he spoke. Now she opened them and spoke in a clear voice, "Crunch."
A blur of blue and white, her gyarados shot through the water and closed its fangs around the smaller gyarados before Wataru could blink. The bitten gyarados let out a howl and slammed her tail up hastily into her opponent's side. An aqua tail attack, but not a proper one. It hardly fazed the larger gyarados, who hit back at once with its own tail, this time glowing with hard, silvery light.
Watching the gyarados thrash back and forth across the lake, with Hamako uttering only a sparse word here and there, Wataru realized this wasn't really a battle—it was a demonstration. The larger gyarados was teaching the smaller one how to fight—where to bite, how to twist, when to make use of the water. Maybe the smaller gyarados couldn't appreciate it, caught up in their frenzied back and forth. But Wataru could. Every bite, every hit was a lesson.
At last, the smaller gyarados slumped down into the lake. She flipped so that her creamy underside was visible, an admission of defeat. Hamako smiled.
"You're a good fighter, little one!" she called out to the fallen gyarados. "Keep in mind, mastery is like a waterfall, and you're just now starting at the base." To her own gyarados she said, "Well done, Katashi."
The high screech that rang suddenly through the cavern made all of them start. Toku had slithered to the edge of the lake, where her gaze was locked onto Hamako's gyarados. The miniryu had arched herself up so high that only the very tip of her tail still touched the ground, the challenge unmistakable.
"You want to battle, Toku?" Wataru asked, surprised. Toku turned her dark eyes back on him for a moment, something unreadable swirling in their depths.
"Well," said Hamako from the other end of the lake. "I've always wanted to fight a dragon."
The lake was still turbulent from the gyarados' battle. Small waves rippled outwards, breaking gently against the rocks. Toku and Hamako's gyarados squared off, as the smaller gyarados watched from the shore. Something about Toku struck Wataru as different. Was it the morning light that was making her scales gleam so brightly? Strength and health seemed to radiate from her body.
Before a battle, dragon masters and their kairyu would always perform a brief dance. Wataru had taken that as a ceremonial gesture, a sign of the fighters' mutual respect. But had it been something more? Did the dance unlock some inner power in the ryu?
Hamako's gyarados was circling the lake silently. They seemed to be leaving the first move to Wataru.
"Thunder wave!" he called out.
"Block it," came the calm command from across the lake. Almost casually, the gyarados flicked its tail, sending up a wall of water that broke the electric beam into nothing but fizzling sparks. "Surf."
Again the gyarados brought down its tail, but this time the gesture carried more force. The wave that surged forward was ten-feet tall and rapid, bearing down on Toku and Wataru both.
"Twister!" Wataru shouted. He smiled at the whirling vortex that erupted from Toku's tail. The twister cut the wave down its middle, leaving the water to slosh harmlessly back into the lake. Since her shedding, Toku hadn't had a problem whipping her tail speedily enough to pull off the move that had baffled them back in Pewter.
"Waterfall."
The gyarados drew ribbons of water around itself and dove straight forwards. There was no time to move; it slammed Toku hard against the cave wall. Wataru sucked in a breath at the impact.
But Toku was already moving, her eyes lit a furious red. Wataru took it for a leer attack at first, until three swirling vortices erupted from the lake, each one wreathed in the same angry green light. The vortices closed in on the gyarados.
"Dragon rage," Hamako murmured. "Must be." Raising her voice, she called out, "Iron tail to break through and then crunch, Katashi!"
The gyarados' gleaming tail tore through one vortex and then the other, but the third was already upon it, a twisting mass of bubbling water.
"Twister, while it's stuck!" Wataru shouted. The cyclone lifted the gyarados out of the lake and slammed it back against the wall. We can do that too! Wataru thought, his mouth curving into a triumphant grin.
But the triumph was short-lived. The gyarados' tail slammed down, sending another wall of water hurtling towards Toku. She split the wave with a twister attack, but was unprepared for the fangs that followed, digging mercilessly into her newly-shed skin.
Thunder wave, Wataru wanted to shout, but Toku was far from the ground: there was nowhere to gather the static charge. He flinched violently as she let out a pained cry. Think, think. Anything that would make the gyarados let go—
"Twister, as big as you can make it!"
Toku's tail was still free to move, whipping the air into a whirlwind with force enough to push herself from the gyarados' grip. She landed in the pool and resurfaced a moment later, gasping.
Wataru wondered if he should call an end to the fight. Despite the earlier battle and Toku's attacks, Hamako's gyarados had only just begun to breath hard. Toku's tongue was flicking rapidly in and out, a sign of deep exhaustion, but when Wataru caught her eye, he knew he couldn't call a retreat. Toku was fighting for more than just herself; she was fighting for the honor of every single miniryu that had once dwelled here.
No, they couldn't back down now.
At Hamako's command, the gyarados once again brought down its tail. Tricks don't work twice, Wataru remembered Muno saying, but this trick had worked twice. The wave, Wataru realized now, was just a distraction for the direct attack that would follow. Breaking the wave would just be playing Hamako's game.
"Dive under it!"
Toku shot into the water just before the wave hit. Wataru had to jump back to avoid the leaping spray. When he caught sight of Toku's head breaking the surface, Wataru shouted, "Now use twister!"
Half air, half water, the twister made an impressive sight. But Wataru only intended the attack to serve as cover for their next move. When the gyarados broke through with its iron tail, Toku was ready. Her thunder wave struck head on, amplified by the water that still drenched the gyarados. The static leapt from scale to scale, making the gyarados wince and whine.
"Clever," Hamako said. The cavern had fallen silent, the only sound the fizz of static charge and the panting of the two ryu as they faced each other. The difference in size between them was almost comical; Toku could have fit easily into the gyarados' maw.
Wataru tried to take advantage of the sudden lull to form a plan. The gyarados might have lost some of its mobility, but it was still nowhere near defeated. He could see that Toku was dangerously tired. The earlier gleam had all but vanished from her scales. Hold on . . .
Toku needed more power. Perhaps what had worked once could work again.
"Dance, Toku," Wataru said quietly.
But when the miniryu began to twist through the air, it was not to the slow rhythm of the miniryu odori. Her movements were too elongated, too soaring. As she moved, the gleam returned to her scales, but stronger now, a powerful white light that spread up from her tail to her snout. When Toku threw herself into the air for a final leap, she hung there suspended, the white line of her body lengthening.
Wataru blinked heavily against the unbearably bright light. A musical trill echoed through the cavern, the sound high and pure, like the sky after the storm has broken.
When the light cleared, Wataru looked up into the solemn eyes of a gorgeous hakuryu. She flew through the air, over three meters long fully uncurled. The sun caught off her silver horn and the dark blue orb that adorned her neck and the tip of her tail. Her scales had darkened to a lustrous blue and her ear fins extended into gleaming wings.
"My word," breathed Hamako.
Wataru couldn't speak, overwhelmed by the graceful way Toku glided through the air. The gyarados were watching too; something bright and covetous sparked in the smaller one's eyes. Toku flitted down in front of Wataru, so they were face to face. A long tongue darted out and rasped against his cheek. The touch was cold enough to make Wataru flinch.
An instant later, he laughed, from exhilaration and relief.
Toku was still Toku, cold licks and all. As if coming out of a trance, he drew in another breath and looked across the lake to Hamako's gyarados. The water-ryu watched them warily.
"Dragon rage," Wataru whispered.
Toku shot up towards the open sky. At her trill, four seething columns of water erupted under her, pulsing with greenish light. The columns converged on the gyarados before it could muster any response, combining into a great, swirling tower.
Wataru watched the vortex, his heart pounding. Hamako was calling commands to her gyarados, but they were swallowed by the roar of the water. In the sky, Toku waited, her expression serene.
At last, the water subsided, splashing back into the lake. The gyarados floated on the surface of the water, its tail fins twitching weakly as if it were a koiking once more.
Wataru took a deep breath. Then he planted his feet and shouted, in a voice that rang through the cavern, "I dedicate this battle to the miniryu, hakuryu, and kairyu of the Cerulean Cave! Wherever they are now, let them thrive!"
As the echoes died down, Toku flew down to his side, and Wataru clasped her into an awkward hug.
"You can fly!" he whispered, his voice once again unsteady. Toku huffed out a laugh and dug her snout into his shoulder. "Oof! Watch the horn, Toku!"
He still couldn't believe it, even with her lustrous blue scales only inches from his face.
"Congratulations." Hamako's voice made him and Toku look up. The old woman had drawn closer and was watching them with a smile in her eyes. "Hold out your hand," she said. When Wataru did, she dropped something small and gleaming onto his open palm. "The Wave Badge. I think it's safe to say you've earned it."
"You're—" Wataru clamped his mouth shut before it could fall open again.
"Cerulean's Gym Leader?" Hamako gave a warm chuckle. "You really didn't know, then? I'd wondered if you were humoring an old woman."
Mutely, Wataru shook his head.
"Ah, then it seems today's been a day of surprises, for you as well as for me. I'm very grateful you let an old woman tag along. What I've seen today I'll hold to a special place in my heart. Your dragonair's a real beauty, whatever shore she hails from. I wish both of you the best of luck."
Wataru bowed, somewhat awkwardly with Toku still wrapped around him. "Thank you, Master Hamako. Without your wisdom, we'd have never gotten up that waterfall. And thanks to your powerful ryu, Toku evolved."
Hamako smiled. "Now don't flatter me. I did what any right-thinking gyarados specialist would have done in my place." She glanced around the cavern and let out a sigh. "Much as I'd like to stay here, they'll be missing me at the gym soon. I imagine you'll want to take some time to gather your thoughts. I can make my own way back, even if Katashi's too winded for the journey. You know, that lug—" She jerked a finger towards the stirring gyarados "—never dropped one hint about this place, even with all those long evenings I bored him telling my dragonite stories. Gyarados are deep waters, no doubting it. You'll find that out soon enough for yourself, I suppose."
Before Wataru could ask what she meant, the old woman had recalled her gyarados and released an enormous seaking.
"If you fancy a cup of tea and a longer chat, just stop by my gym," she said, seating herself comfortably on the fish's broad back.
The seaking cut silently down the river, and after a moment, Hamako passed out of sight.
The rocks had grown warm from the sunlight when Wataru came over to the gyarados still resting on the lake-side. Above them, Toku soared through the air, exploring her new agility and power.
"Toku and I come from a place a lot like this one," Wataru said quietly. "Small pools, running streams, and a valley full of sunshine. That's where the kairyu live. Toku and I will go back one day. If you'd like, you can come along."
The gyarados huffed gently in Wataru's face, her breath warm and salty. A low rumble rose in her throat. Wataru didn't need Toku's nod to interpret the answer.
"I can't call you 'little guide,' anymore," he said. "May I address you as Ibuki? It's my cousin's name. For some reason, you remind me of her."
Overhead, Toku snorted. The gyarados lifted her head, her whiskers curling in satisfaction.
"Good," Wataru said softly. "That's good."
They lingered another hour more. The gyarados needed to regain her strength for the ride back, and Toku was content to spiral through the air, trilling her pleasure. Wataru wandered from rock to rock, running his hands absently over the old husks.
With Toku's evolution, he was closer to home than he'd been since he first stepped aboard Mr. Inushi's wagon. But as Wataru gazed down at the dried-out miniryu husks, home felt impossibly far away.